Sword of the Crown

by Paul J Bennett

  “How will we tell the Fitzwilliams apart?” asked Revi in a very serious tone.

  Gerald looked daggers at him, “You’re kidding, right?”

  Revi returned the stare with a blank expression.

  “That,” said Gerald, pointing at the baron, “is Fitz the Elder, and that,” he pointed at Beverly, “is Fitz the Younger. Plus, I don’t know if you've noticed, but Beverly is a woman.”

  “A woman? Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

  Revi was far too amused at having baited Gerald.

  “That’s enough, you two,” said Beverly, “Revi, you can be such an arse at times.”

  “Alas, it is in my nature Dame Beverly, or should I say Fitz the Younger,” Revi made an exaggerated bow.

  “If you are done,” said Anna, “I think I’ve reached a decision. The army will rest for one day only. That should give Master Bloom here, time to finish healing the injured. We'll march the morning after tomorrow with what stores we can muster. Beverly, you will command the knights in addition to the light cavalry. Unless anyone has anything else to say, I will leave you to your duties.”

  The commanders were filing out of the room when Lord Greycloak chose to speak up. “Your Highness, might I offer the services of my troops to gather food? They can scout ahead and hunt for you.” He turned to Lady Albreda who had just been leaving, “We will, of course, not hunt in the Whitewood.”

  “Thank you, Lord Greycloak, I accept your offer of help gratefully, and will inform the king of your assistance,” a thankful Anna replied.

  The tall Elf bowed deeply, then turned and left with the rest, leaving Anna in the room with Beverly and the baron.

  “You had a message you wanted me to send to Uxley?” reminded the baron.

  “Yes,” Anna responded. “I find myself missing my maid, Sophie. I’d like to send a message for her to meet us in Uxley when we march through. I’ll have her bring the carriage with her.”

  “An excellent idea, Your Highness,” the baron agreed, “It will also present well when we enter the city.”

  “Present well?” said Beverly.

  “Why yes, the princess must make an entrance. She is, after all, the victor of two important battles.”

  “Come now, Baron,” said Anna, “don’t you think that’s overselling it a bit?”

  “The truth is, Your Highness, your father, the king, will likely still be dealing with a rebellious earl. Anything you can do to give the impression of your importance will help sway him to include you in his plans.”

  “You’re devious, Father,” said Beverly, with a smile.

  “Devious and clever,” agreed Anna. “All right, Baron, I’ll arrive in Wincaster in a Royal Carriage. You’ve spent more time at court than me; I’ll require you to fill me in on what I can expect when we get there.”

  “I should be delighted, Your Highness. As I once told you in Uxley, I am at your disposal.”

  The princess wrote out a quick note to Sophie and sealed it with wax. “There you are baron; I shall leave it in your hands.”

  “Your Highness,” he said, bowing. He turned and left the room, calling for the dispatch rider as he did so.

  “Your father is a valuable ally,” Anna said as she watched him leave.

  “Yes, Highness. He only has your best interests at heart.”

  “Tell me, Beverly, and be honest. What do you make of Albreda’s prophesy?”

  Beverly thought for a few moments before speaking. “I have to believe it only portends what might happen if we do nothing. If everything in life is pre-ordained, what’s the purpose of living?”

  “I suppose I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Anna responded. “We shall have to be especially careful when we’re in the capital. The prophecy could relate to the rebellion, but it might also mean someone at court is plotting against the crown.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” said Beverly. “I shall be certain to mention it to Arnim. He’ll want to make doubly sure that the guards are aware of the situation.”

  “Good, now get some rest. We’re going to need your skills in the next few weeks as we march the army back to Wincaster.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” she said, bowing.

  * * *

  The sounds of celebration echoed through the halls of Bodden Keep as Beverly made her way to the smithy. She had stopped off to gather her damaged armour, and she now found herself thinking of the smith. It had been almost two years since she last saw Aldwin in Hawksburg, and she wondered if her heart would still flutter when she looked into his eyes.

  She entered the smithy to observe Aldwin poring over some sketches.

  “What are you looking at?” she interrupted him.

  He looked up from his work, a smile breaking over his face as he recognized her.

  “Going over some plans,” he said, “for something special I’m working on.”

  Her heart felt like it skipped a beat as she gazed into those steely grey eyes, and she couldn’t help but return the smile; there was still an unbreakable bond between them.

  She walked over to stand beside him, looking down at the sketches.

  “What’s all this?” she asked.

  “It’s a plan for a new forge,” he answered. “I need to produce more heat.”

  “What for?” she asked.

  “Last year, one of the patrols came across a scar on the ground. A rock had fallen from the sky and smashed through the top of a hill, leaving a furrow in the field below. At first, they thought it was some type of magic.”

  She moved her eyes from the sketch, to look at his face, seeing if he was joking. His intense stare gazed back, and she felt herself falling once more into those eyes.

  “Was it? Magic, I mean?” she tried to keep the conversation going.

  “No, it was a stone from the sky. I’ve heard of this before. I asked your father if it might be possible to investigate it. We rode out, and I took some samples.”

  “Samples? Of rock?”

  “Yes, I think it was a large rock that shattered when it hit, for there were small fragments all over the place. Come, and I'll show you.”

  He rose from his seat and took her hand, leading her over to a box on the floor. The touch of their hands sent a tingle through her. He knelt down at the chest, releasing her hand. “I gathered up several fragments. When we got back here, I washed them off. They appear to some kind of unknown metal.”

  He opened the chest to what looked like small chunks of melted steel. Beverly knelt down beside him. “What do you intend to do with this?” she asked, laying her finger on one.

  “I plan to forge it into a weapon,” he said, “but I haven’t been able to melt it. I think I need a higher temperature in my forge.”

  “How do you do that?” she asked, once again being drawn into his world.

  He turned from the rock to gaze at her. “I talked to your father about it, and he gave me the name of a Dwarven smith in Wincaster. I wrote to him about my discovery and his reply was most useful.”

  “He sent you these plans?” she asked

  “More or less,” he explained. “He sent me some plans, but I’ve made a few modifications to them. We’ve a bit more room to work here in Bodden, so I’m making some adjustments.”

  “And if you manage to smelt this rock, what then?”

  “I’ll make it into a weapon, for you of course.”

  They were crouched by the open box, their faces not more than hands width from each other. Beverly was staring at the rock as Aldwin spoke, and then looked at him, to see his face so close to hers. She leaned forward, and he did likewise, and a moment later their lips met. As they kissed, at that moment, nothing else mattered; there was no war, no invaders, no anything, just the two of them, here in the smithy, together.

  Not wanting to, but knowing it had to happen, they separated slightly, but stayed crouched on the floor, neither one wanting it to end.

  It was Aldwin who broke the spell. “Did you come here for something
in particular?”

  “Yes,” she said, “I actually came here to get you to fix my armour.”

  He stood up and held out his hand to help her to her feet. From anyone else, she would have been insulted that they thought she needed help, but from Aldwin, it was purely his kind and caring nature. She took his hand, and they walked back to his workbench.

  “Where is it?” he asked.

  “Where’s what?” she said.

  “The armour you need repaired?”

  “Oh, it’s right here in this sack. It’s just the shin guard; it was damaged at Kingsford.” She produced the piece of armour from the bag and placed it on the table. She was no longer able wear it for the metal had been so severely damaged it was bent.

  He held it up to the light and whistled. “You’re lucky you still have a leg to wear this.”

  “Revi says my shin was broken; I didn’t even realize it till my leg gave way after the battle. So, you can fix it?”

  “Of course, but I’ll have to take some new measurements. I think your legs have muscled up a bit since I made this. Have a seat in the chair over there.”

  She sat down, and he came over, kneeling in front of her. Gently, he raised her foot and removed her shoe, causing a pleasant warmth to spread over her. Next, he lifted her skirts to reveal her shin, placing his hands tenderly beneath her calf. Her heartbeat quickened, and she strained to control her breathing. Aldwin gently felt her leg, using a leather strip to take measurements.

  The touch of his fingertips lightly brushing across her shin made her jump. “That tickles,” she clarified.

  Aldwin laughed, “Sorry, my lady, I shall try not to tickle you.”

  “It’s fine,” she said, perhaps too quickly. “I liked it,” she blushed as she made her admission.

  “I’m all done with the measuring,” he said, gently placing her shoe back on her foot.”

  She didn’t want him to stop. “Perhaps you should measure the other leg; I might need you to adjust the other side.”

  He looked up at her, grinning. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he gently lifted the other foot. Soon, his strong hands were tenderly feeling her calf, measuring its girth.

  She let out an involuntary groan and then caught herself. She looked at Aldwin in surprise, and they both laughed. He placed her shoe back on her foot and stood up, holding out his hand.

  “I’m afraid I’ve some work to do if you want this done by the time you leave.”

  “You’re right,” she said, “I think I’m a distraction.”

  “You’re more than welcome to stay while I work,” he invited.

  “I’d like that,” she replied. “I tell you what, you start working, and I’ll go get us some food.”

  “Good idea,” he agreed, “and you need to get the other shin guard if I’m going to adjust it.”

  She smiled again, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

  * * *

  The army was formed up on the road outside the town for the march to Wincaster, the men carrying as much food as they were able without completely depleting Bodden. It would be long, likely two weeks or more, and they must rely on the provisions that the baron's messenger had hopefully procured along the way.

  The princess was with the baron, on the road, overseeing the coordination of the army. Beverly made her way out of the Keep, stopping by the smithy to retrieve her finished pieces of armour. Aldwin insisted on putting them on her himself, and they fit perfectly, as she knew they would.

  “Your armour has quite a few dents and scratches,” he said, “but it’ll keep you safe.”

  They locked gazes for a moment, face to face, neither speaking. Beverly felt she knew Aldwin better than she ever had before, after spending the last two nights talking well into the wee hours of the morning.

  “Be safe,” he said quietly.

  “I will,” she replied.

  He leaned toward her, and she raised her hands, his arms encircling her waist. They stood, chest to chest for a moment, and despite the breastplate, she felt his heart beating in tandem with hers.

  This time, they both moved to kiss, lingering to savour the experience. Neither one knew how long it would be before they saw each other again, but both believed that one day they would find a way to be together. Until then, they silently agreed they would make do with stolen moments.

  Once they had separated, Beverly took a breath to calm her nerves. She didn’t want to look flustered when she entered the courtyard. She left the smithy without another word, but couldn’t help but smile. She was a far cry from the young woman that had departed Bodden all those years ago. The courtyard was filled with Bodden Knights already mounted, and Lightning was waiting for her.

  Seated upon her steed, she looked around; it would likely be a long time before she returned to Bodden, for she was sworn to the service of the princess now. She took it all in, re-committing it to memory, though it was hardly necessary. She had grown up here, spent her entire early life behind these walls; she knew every nook and cranny it held. The sound of the light cavalry as they trotted out the gate interrupted her silent farewell, and she gave the order for the knights to advance. Out the gate they rode, to form up behind the rest of the horsemen.

  The plan was for the cavalry to bring up the rear while they were close to Bodden. Once they were a day out, they would take the lead, providing a screening force for the rest. They rode by the Great Elm were the princess was sitting upon her horse. Beverly raised her sword in salute as they passed and the princess nodded. The army began to move forward like a giant snake, the Elves taking the lead and quickly disappearing from view. The cavalry advanced, following the footmen in front of them. They had gone no more than a hundred yards when she saw Albreda riding toward them, mounted on a white horse with no saddle, a fact which would have been startling with anyone else, but was somehow fitting for the Earth Mage.

  “Lady Beverly,” she said as she approached.

  “Lady Albreda,” Beverly nodded, “this is a surprise. Are you coming with us?”

  “I’m afraid not,” she replied, “but I come to warn you. You must guard the princess carefully; I fear she’s in great danger.”

  “So you said in the map room,” Beverly reminded her.

  “It’s more than that,” Albreda insisted. “She has a part yet to play in the grand scheme of things. You must take extra care in the capital; a shadow is there.”

  “You have my attention,” said Beverly. “Can you tell me more?”

  “I’ve told you all I know. I can see visions, but I cannot always interpret them. Look after her, Beverly, and yourself.”

  With that, she moved her horse off the road and galloped to the north.

  Beverly turned her attention back to the troops marching in front of her. A couple of the foot soldiers had seen her taking up position behind them and began talking among themselves. A moment later the footmen broke out into a marching song, meant to help pass the time and keep the rhythm of the march.

  “T'was the mistress of Bodden, a knight of renown, she fought two great battles and rescued the town. She fought with great bravery which set her apart, who dare marry this lady and tame her wild heart.”

  It was a catchy tune, and she smiled at the men as she hummed along. If only they knew the truth of it, she thought, they might be surprised.

  Thirty-Five

  Return to Wincaster

  Spring 960 MC

  The march was long; it took over two weeks to reach Wincaster, leaving the men exhausted. Even so, they took pride in the fact that they had made three long marches and defeated two armies, a feat unheard of in the history of Merceria. The men straightened their backs with pride as the walls of the city loomed over the horizon. They marched back triumphantly, a sudden spring in their step, harnessing a newfound reserve of energy.

  Princess Anna was travelling in her carriage, along with her maid, escorted by the Bodden Knights. As the walls came into view, Anna asked Beverly to
ride ahead and take a look, lest the city be in the hands of the rebels.

  She spurred Lightning forward, quickly passing the Elves who were leading the advance on the capital. Riding past Lord Greycloak, she called out to him, inviting him to accompany her. The Elven Lord urged his horse onward to match her pace.

  As they approached, Beverly saw activity on the walls, though she was not able to discern the details. The closer they drew, the clearer the picture became, and with a sinking feeling in her stomach, she recognized what it was. From the walls of the city were hung cages full of people. Even from this distance she could make out their limbs poking through the bars, flailing about in the air.

  Lord Greycloak turned to face her. “Is this the way Merceria typically treats its prisoners?” he asked.

  Beverly was disgusted at the punishment, remembering well the same cruel fate dealt out to Olivia. “It’s not how I would punish traitors, nor my father, but it is the king’s will.”

  “Surely it would be better to simply execute them,” he said. “To punish them in this fashion seems to be of little purpose.”

  “He’s sending a warning to anyone who might go against his rule,” she tried to explain. “The message is simple, whoever betrays the crown will suffer this same fate.”

  “And you condone this?” he asked, looking straight at her.

  “I understand it,” she said. “I don’t condone it, but it is the king’s realm, and we must follow his orders. Is it not so in the Elven realms?”

  “If I were to give such a command,” he stated, “I would be removed from my position.”

  “Here, that would amount to treason,” she said, “and that’s the death sentence, usually in an excruciating manner.”

  “Curious the customs of men,” the Elf reflected. “I also notice that the flag on the Palace is at half-mast, has that some significance?”

  Beverly, surprised by the Elf’s keen eyesight, took a moment before answering, “Are you sure?”

  “Indeed, I can make it out plainly, even from here.”