Heart of the Crown

by Paul J Bennett

  "Your Majesty," he proclaimed when he felt he was close enough, "allow me to introduce myself."

  King Andred nodded, and Lord Weldridge continued, "I am Lord Edwin Weldridge, the Earl of Faltingham, and I have come from Westland bearing greetings from King Leofric." He took a breath. He had remembered to call it Westland as was the custom here, but now he must touch on a stickier subject.

  "He apologizes for the troops that entered your kingdom from our borders," he continued, "and hastens to assure you that he had no part in the attack. The troops were sent without his knowledge and the man responsible has been punished." He held his breath, waiting for the king's response.

  The Mercerian King scrutinized his visitor before finally replying, "And what does King Leofric offer in recompense?"

  The earl drew a silent breath of relief; King Andred was willing to talk, and that was a major victory.

  "King Leofric wishes to make amends and gifts you this," he said, waving his hand to beckon two of his men forward to drop a large chest before the warrior sovereign. The Earl of Faltingham waited as the lid was opened to reveal a king's ransom in gold and jewels. The immediate look of desire in the Mercerian ruler's eyes told him all he needed to know; the gift was acceptable.

  Lord Edwin continued, "He invites you to send a delegation to our kingdom that we might better understand the bonds between our two realms. We, in turn, shall send an ambassador of our own."

  Without warning, King Andred stepped forward. Faltingham resisted the urge to flinch as the king's hand shot out.

  "I accept your hand as the hand of friendship," King Andred said unexpectedly, "let it be thus between our two kingdoms."

  Lord Weldridge took the king's hand and shook it. King Andred had a firm grip and locked eyes with the earl. He waved his hand, and the music resumed.

  "Come now," said the king, "we should speak, there are matters to discuss."

  He guided the earl to the side of the room while servants brought food and drink. The dark-haired woman followed them, though she wasn't introduced.

  "Tell me," said the king, "how are things in Westland."

  "We are doing well, Majesty, though King Leofric is eager to establish relations with Merceria. For too long we have been at odds with one another. Surely it is time for us to reconcile?"

  "I think that a wonderful idea," the king replied. "Tell me more about this proposal."

  "It is King Leofric's desire that we send delegates to each other's court, the better to represent our causes. I'm sure our kingdoms have much in common."

  "No doubt," the king agreed. "I suppose it would have to be someone important, I can't just send anyone." He scanned the room, his eyes surveying his nobles.

  The earl watched him, observing his disapproving scowl as his eyes fell on his courtiers. No doubt, he was considering much, for a noble had just been executed for treason. He would likely balk at sending his closest allies as he would need their support. His eyes finally rested on a young, expensively dressed woman amongst the throng of people. She was obviously enjoying herself, surrounded by many young knights.

  "What about a member of my family?" he asked, indicating the young lady with his goblet of wine. "Would she be suitable?"

  "Sending a member of the Royal Family would indeed be an honour. I'm sure King Leofric would be most pleased with your choice, Majesty."

  "I think it's a wonderful opportunity," Andred said. "I can have my daughter, Margaret, ready to travel by the month's end. Would that suit your king?"

  "Most certainly," replied the Earl of Faltingham. "I think he will be delighted to host her. I shall send word immediately so that arrangements can be made. He will wish to show her every courtesy. Of course, you will send an honour guard?"

  "Naturally, some Knights of the Sword to protect her, along with a suitable amount of servants. I should send an advisor as well."

  The earl was elated, "I should think that would be perfect," he agreed.

  "Now," continued the king, "let me show you some of our finest wines."

  He led them toward a long table where servants were generous with the drinks. The dark-haired woman remained where she was, but he recognized that she was upset about something. He put it from his mind to concentrate on the king.

  In the end, they agreed that the princess would leave for Westland in the early summer. The visit would last a year, during which a representative from the Weldwyn court would remain in Merceria. The Earl of Faltingham could now return home to deliver the good news to King Leofric.

  Six

  Plans

  Summer 960 MC

  King Andred sat at his desk, staring down at the list before him. The names of the nobles of the realm were there; all sworn to his service and yet he knew that some of them must have been complicit in the rebellion. The Earl of Eastwood had raised an army in an effort to take the throne, but he wouldn't have attempted the task without the tacit approval of at least some of the nobles. The fighting was now over, the earl dead and buried, but still, the question lingered; who could he trust?

  There was a knock at the door, and he called out absently, "Enter."

  Lady Penelope Cromwell, the king's mistress, peered in to see what he was up to. He stared blankly at her, upset by the interruption but a smile from her softened his mood.

  "Come in, my love. I need a distraction."

  She glided into the room, "Why, whatever vexes you so, Andred. Surely the affairs of the kingdom can be handled by lesser men."

  "If only," he groused, "but since the recent uprising, who can I trust? The earl couldn't have acted alone, he must have had help, but who?"

  "A valid question," she agreed. "But he is defeated now, surely it is no longer an issue?"

  "Ah, I wish it were so. I have to send Margaret to Westland to keep them occupied while I root out the rot in my court."

  "And why is that a problem, Andred? Do you think her unsuitable for the task?"

  "It is not the sending that has me so worked up, it is the guarding."

  "Please explain, I'm afraid such matters are beyond me."

  "I must send knights to protect her, she is a royal, after all."

  "Then send knights, where is the problem?"

  "I need all my knights here, Penelope, don't you see? There's bound to be more to this rebellion than just one earl. We must root out those responsible. I need men I trust to carry out my will and yet I cannot send untrustworthy men to guard my daughter."

  "Perhaps there is another solution," she offered.

  "You have me intrigued," he said. "What are you suggesting?"

  "Tell me, is it imperative that Margaret, herself, be the one who visits?"

  "I have committed to a royal, I see no other choice."

  "What about Princess Anna?" she suggested.

  "She is too young," he replied. "They would see it as an insult."

  "Was she too young to lead the defense of the realm? She did win two battles, did she not?"

  King Andred sat for a moment, absorbing her words. "I suppose she did," he admitted at last.

  "So she is more than capable of looking after herself."

  "Still, she would be representing the kingdom to our enemy," he persisted, "and she has little experience in such things."

  "Send advisors," she countered. "She's already gathered a few of her own. We can make sure we have agents in their midst to report back on her progress if you're worried about it."

  "And if they take offense?" he asked.

  "Then let them. She is a Royal of the House of Merceria. Surely that is enough to guarantee her safety."

  "And if they don't?"

  "Tell me, my love. If such a thing were to come to pass, who would you rather lose, the daughter of your own blood or Princess Anna?"

  Andred smiled, "A perfectly valid point."

  "So there you have it," said Penelope, "you have come to your own conclusion."

  "I still have the same problem," he growled. "Who do I send to gu
ard her."

  "Didn't you let her raise some knights?" she asked.

  "I did," he admitted.

  "Then she is already guarded. You must insist that she fills out her roster of knights before she leaves."

  She walked closer to him, placing her hands upon his shoulders as he sat. "All the arrangements can be made by her people, freeing you up for more pleasurable pursuits."

  "And if she is placed in danger?"

  "For goodness sake, Andred. Send the Life Mage if you must, he certainly would be small loss around here."

  "The Life Mage? Surely not!"

  "Your Majesty," she purred, "he has shown himself to be quite lacking in skill. You, yourself, have said as much. With the rebellion crushed you are quite safe. When was the last time you needed healing?"

  "Many years ago," he replied.

  "You see? He is quite unnecessary. Do what you know is right and send young Anna to Westland."

  She moved to his side and held out her hand. He took it, rising from his seat. She pressed her body close to his, bringing their faces together in an intimate embrace. "Now," she cooed, "let us concentrate on more pleasurable pursuits."

  Gerald's armour jingled as he walked through the Palace, the sound echoing down the long halls.

  "Are you sure about this?" he asked.

  "Absolutely," replied Anna. "I've made up my mind. Just think about it, a chance to see a foreign country."

  "I don't think he'll send you. He seems to have made up his mind to send Margaret."

  "Nonsense, Gerald. I intend to convince him that I am the better candidate."

  "But it could be dangerous, Anna," he said.

  "You mean like the battles we fought in?" she reminded him. "I doubt it would get more dangerous than twisting an ankle dancing. We have a chance to make history; bring about a lasting peace between our kingdoms."

  "We don't know much about Westland and its people."

  "Precisely," she retorted. "I can't do this without you, Gerald."

  "Well," he said, "if you can convince the king to send you, I'll be by your side. Just how, exactly, do you intend to do that?"

  "Simple, I'll draw on my recent success in the rebellion and remind him how we saved the kingdom. He knows I've assembled an outstanding group of friends."

  "You should refer to us as followers, Anna."

  "But you're my friends," she objected.

  "Yes, however, your father would be more impressed if you refer to us as followers. He's a king, remember?"

  "I could hardly forget, now, could I?"

  "What if he says no?"

  "Then we're no worse off than we are now."

  "You want this badly, don't you?" he asked.

  "Of course," she replied, "it's the chance of a lifetime."

  They arrived at their destination; a blue door that led into the king's private chambers. Two knights stood guard, their breastplates bright and unblemished.

  "I'm here to see the king," announced Anna.

  The guards looked down, towering over her small frame. Gerald was about to say something when the door suddenly opened, revealing Lady Penelope Cromwell.

  "Princess Anna!" she exclaimed. "What a pleasant surprise. Is there something I can help you with?"

  "I've come to talk to the king," the princess replied.

  "A happy coincidence," said Penelope. "I was just talking to him, myself. Come along, Highness, I'll take you to him. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

  Gerald took a step forward to be met by Penelope's palm, held in front of him. "You can leave your bodyguard here," she said, "you won't be needing him."

  "I'll wait here, Highness," he mumbled, bowing his head slightly.

  Anna stepped through the doorway with the king's mistress, while Gerald watched as the door snapped shut.

  He paced back and forth in the hallway, trying to kill time, but his mind was whirling with worry. What would the king say? Would he let them go to Westland? Would her arguments convince him? He heard the shuffling of feet and turned to see the two knights watching him as he paced. He arrested his movement, turning to face them. Distracted by their attention, he wondered if they had fought at Eastwood. Of course, he could just ask them, but he sensed an air of contempt for him and felt slighted. He wanted to lash out, but realized they had done nothing; he was simply imagining things.

  The door opened unexpectedly, and Anna reappeared.

  "That was quick," he said, surprised.

  Anna marched back down the hallway and Gerald struggled to keep up with her pace. He was beginning to wonder what had upset her so. Had the king refused her offer? They exited the Palace by the back, into the elegant gardens, and then Anna finally slowed.

  "Anna," he begged, "what happened?"

  She turned to him, breaking out into a big grin. "We're going to Westland!" she yelled.

  "What?" he responded. "You were only in there for a moment. I thought he'd refused you."

  "On the contrary," she replied, "he quite agreed with my reasoning."

  "That quickly?"

  "Yes, it took me completely by surprise."

  "When do we leave?" he asked.

  "Soon," she said. "We have a few things to see to first. We need to get everyone together and start making plans."

  "You've already been making plans, Anna. I know you."

  "Of course, Gerald, but now we need to start moving forward on them."

  "Who should I gather?"

  "Let's start with Beverly, Arnim, Revi, and, of course, Lily. I would also like Baron Fitzwilliam to be present."

  "What about Lord Greycloak?" he asked. "The Elves were quite helpful to us."

  "I know they were," said Anna, "but I'm sure the king would not want Elves going on the trip with us. He's never been comfortable with them, but I will send a letter thanking Lord Greycloak for their help."

  "And Dame Hayley?" he asked. "She is a Knight of the Hound, after all."

  "I don't really know her yet. I think it best I stick to those I'm more familiar with."

  "And where would you like them to gather? No doubt you've got somewhere in mind already?"

  She smiled, "Why Sergeant Matheson, you know me all too well. I thought we might impose on the baron. He has a house in the city, does he not?"

  "He does, though he doesn't use it much. I'm sure he'd be more than willing to host a get-together."

  "Find Beverly first and have her arrange things. I'll want you to escort me there when you're done."

  "What will you be doing in the meantime?" he asked.

  "Changing out of this very stiff and formal dress," she said, tugging at her waist bindings.

  "All right," he agreed. "I won't be long.

  "You'll have to find Beverly first; it's a large Palace."

  "It's just after mid-day," he remarked, "she'll be in the practice yard."

  "I should have known," said Anna.

  "That's what I'm here for," replied Gerald.

  * * *

  The food was cleared away from the table, leaving the baron with a glass of wine. He waited as servants brought forth drinks for his guests and smiled as he saw Gerald marvel at the tankard of ale placed before him.

  "You see," he said, "I remembered. You don't like wine."

  Gerald blushed, "It's not that I don't like wine, my lord, it's just that I prefer ale."

  "After all these years, surely you can call me Fitz."

  "Of course, my lord," replied Gerald to the amusement of all around him.

  "Perhaps, Father, we should get to the business at hand?" suggested Beverly.

  "Of course," agreed the baron. "If you would be so kind, Highness?"

  "Thank you, Baron," said Anna. "As you know, the king has selected me to travel to Westland on a diplomatic mission."

  "What type of diplomatic mission?" asked Arnim. "Are we to become permanent ambassadors?"

  "No," she replied. "We are to visit their kingdom, learn more about them, and show them we're not the
ruthless mercenaries they think we are."

  "I thought," offered Beverly, "that your sister, Princess Margaret was supposed to go?"

  "And so she was," said Anna, "but I managed to convince the king to send me instead."

  "And he agreed to that?" asked Fitz. "I find that surprising."

  "He did," she responded. "In fact, he thought it was an excellent idea. I was quite surprised at how easy he was to convince. Not only that, but he insisted that I take Master Bloom with us."

  The mage, who had been picking at some leftover food on a small plate, looked up in surprise. "He did? I find that quite strange. I would have thought he'd want the Royal Life Mage kept close."

  "He was quite adamant about it. He said he didn't trust the physicians in Westland to look after me."

  "Much as I am flattered by the opportunity," said Revi, "I am on the cusp of understanding a matter of great import." He looked around the room; save for the baron, they all knew he was referring to the Saurian Temple they had found at Uxley. "I should like to return to Uxley to study it in more detail. Perhaps, with Lily's help, I might be able to decipher the rest of the writings."

  Lily chirped something in the Saurian tongue.

  "What did she say?" asked Beverly.

  "She said she'd be happy to," remarked Anna.

  The entire room looked at her in surprise.

  "I don't remember the mage casting the spell of tongues," said Arnim.

  "He didn't," said Anna. "I've started learning some of her words."

  Gerald cleared his throat to get their attention. "What if Revi and Lily were to go to Uxley and then catch up to us in Westland?"

  "Good idea," said Anna, turning back to the mage. "How long would you need?"

  "I would hope no more than a month or two," he replied.

  "Could you join us in the Westland capital in the autumn?" she asked.

  "Definitely," he agreed, "and I shall be sure to bring Lily with me."