by Sigrid Kraft
Ravenor pushed his half-brother’s hand away. “Don’t touch me!” he hissed angrily and stomped off to his bed.
The coronation dominated the following day, with the first official ceremony beginning in the morning and continuing until late afternoon. Each ritual was followed by another.
The procession started at the Place of Kings and moved slowly on to the graves of the old Kings, then further on to the House of Swords, and from there to the Great Hall, where the coronation took place. The new King appeared to the cheering crowds before the procession of public officers and dignitaries continued solemnly to the palace.
Having arrived at the palace King Danian was seated on the throne to receive oaths of allegiance from the nobles, masters of the guilds and other dignitaries. Each knelt before the new King in turn. Prince Raiden was the only one who did not kneel. He also swore no oath of allegiance to the King, but found words which were more impressive than that. He promised to protect Ardeen and the new king – his brother – now and forever. And with the power of magic as well as with a drawn sword. Then he took up position behind the throne and stood there as a fearsome guard for the rest of the time, while the endless line of faithful subjects filed past.
No one doubted that day that King Danian could always rely on his brother’s help.
After what seemed like a never-ending succession of oaths, the newly-crowned King could finally retire for two hours before he had to attend the great banquet in honor of the day.
Danian carefully put his crown down on a table and sighed in relief: “The crown is very nearly a burden already, Raiden.”
The Prince slouched in a most unprincelike manner on a sofa, with his boots on an antique table, making sure though that the iron parts of his armor would not scratch the exquisitely-crafted inlays.
“Yes, I am truly thankful that you have sacrificed yourself to royal dignity. It is your birthright anyway. It means nothing to me. All those endless ceremonies, the official receptions, thousands of boring administrative decisions and an unhappy life without any privacy... not to mention the intrigues of nobility and guilds.”
“Thanks for the well-meaning words, dear brother. My court is full of plotters. Today they may speak honey-sweet words and pledge their loyalty, but behind my back they sound completely different and are sharpening their knives even. As they bowed their heads and knelt before me, I should have taken the opportunity to shorten some of the worst of them by a head’s length. Unfortunately, for every head you chop off, two new ones take its place. Therefore I praise your honesty. You don’t swear an insincere oath or bend the knee to me. Moreover, I know that I can always rely on you.”
Now Danian had also collapsed onto a sofa, and Raiden joked to cheer him up:
“If that endless ceremony had lasted much longer, I would gladly have fallen on my knees, just to avoid standing any more. Even my spells aren’t helping any more. I’ll be really glad to get back to Naganor, where I can wear more comfortable clothes again.”
“When will you leave?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
A tray with drinks hovered near Raiden’s hand, and he poured Danian some wine. All without lifting a finger.
The King plucked his glass out of the air. “So soon? But Lady Chrystell only arrived yesterday.”
His legal wife was the only woman Raiden did not want to be around.
“Another reason to leave quickly.”
They both took a long drink, and Danian put his glass down.
“She troubles you because of your special activities?”
“She does not trouble me at all as long as she is far away. Then I don’t care.”
Danian frowned: “You are harsh with her. She does not deserve such treatment.”
Raiden’s voice became a little angry. “She knew full well whom she was going to marry. My reputation then was the same as it is now. The Princess of Gelderon and the Prince of Ardeen. Our connection is a political means of ensuring peace, nothing else!”
For a while they both thought silently, then Danian broke the silence and changed the subject: “Tyren told me about the guardsman of the Guard who looks just like you.”
The Black Prince did not answer, and Danian went on: “And Ysil says that the young ladies at court romanticize about the Black Prince’s son and how handsome he is.”
Raiden was shocked: “What? Does he say that?”
“Isn’t it true?” countered Danian, and Raiden grimaced.
“I have two legitimate daughters by my charming wife Lady Chrystell and no other children – to the benefit of Ardeen. This man is the son of a blacksmith, that is all. And it is not the first time he has vexed me. He is unrestrained, impatient, stubborn and arrogant. I will deal with him myself tomorrow. It would seem that my officers are unable to knock the nonsense out of his head and to teach him a proper lesson as to how to behave and know his proper place.” I cannot believe that Ravenor has gone this far! Should I have him whipped for that? But whipping hasn’t had much effect so far. He endures the lashes and forgets it as soon as it is done, starting to misbehave all over again.
I could throw him out of the Guard, and the problem would be solved... or grow even worse. If he tells everyone that he is my son… Unthinkable! Although I promised the bastards they may serve in the Guard. My only promise to them. But I keep my word.
“Was she pretty?” asked Danian, tearing Raiden from his thoughts.
“Who?”
“Well, the blacksmith’s wife, of course!”
“That’s enough!”
The Black Prince did not want to lie to his brother, particularly as the new King had realized the obvious truth already. Nonetheless, Raiden hoped the subject was done with now, but Danian could not leave it be.
“He is skilled with the sword. He defeated Tyren’s bodyguard with great speed and I always thought Kain was a good fighter. From what else Tyren told me, I would say that the man is proud and my son provoked him.” Danian watched Raiden intensely, then added: “I must pay more attention to my son’s education. Traits are appearing which I do not like at all. He even humiliates a brave man.”
Raiden was thinking more about his own wayward brat and he struck a mocking tone. “Are you really defending this brave man now? What advice does the wise King give me then? What punishment is adequate? And let me remind you that he unsheathed his sword right here in the palace, and it is only thanks to the Gods that no one was harmed.”
Danian smothered a smile. “We were all young and hot-tempered once. Don’t be too strict with him. The blacksmith probably didn’t have time to educate the boy properly. He is not a bad man, I think. It’s just that he seems to be like you in many things.”
The words made Raiden even angrier, although Danian had intended the opposite.
“Am I now to correct the blacksmith’s mistakes? The lad will be taught a lesson. You can be sure of that!”
His thoughts were fierce: Just you wait, brat! If pride is your problem, Ravenor, then I’ll break you and teach you humility, until you know your proper place in the world.
Eventually all the unpleasant talk was done and they both had to get ready for the evening’s banquet.
The morning sun warmed the yard where the Guard was waiting, ready to march. Sir Haerkin’s eagerness, combined with Prince Raiden’s tendency to be late, meant that the men had been waiting for the Prince for quite a while already. Finally the palace door swept open and the Prince came out, crossing the yard.
Eryn held the reins of Braeven’s Brood, and the demon steed glared at him constantly. Eryn did not take his eyes off the black devil either. He was ready to create a fire-shield, if need be. Close contact with the hated beast meant that Eryn in particular thought they had been waiting for far too long.
The Prince strode straight towards his horse. As he approached, Eryn offered him the reins. But the Prince made no attempt to take them. Instead he turned to the troop.
“Soldier Ravenor, come forward!
”
Oh-oh, that’s not a good sign, thought Eryn, while Ravenor gave the reins of his horse to the soldier next to him and obeyed the command.
“My Prince?” Ravenor was also worried, and the sense of foreboding proved true.
“It was not my nephew’s place to ask what he demanded of you. But it is mine. Down in the dirt with you!”
Eryn was standing close by and could see every single movement on the faces of the two men. As he had known both of them for a while now, he could read their facial expression quite well.
The Prince is really furious and Ravenor is stubborn. Let it go, you fool. You will only make things worse!
But Ravenor made the mistake of opening his mouth: “My Prince, I...”
He did not get any further, as the Lord of Naganor cut him short: “It was not a question, soldier! Do not all soldiers swear oaths to me? And they are oaths of… what? Loyalty and... yes, it’s coming back to me now...”
The words dripped with irony. “... obedience. Yes, exactly, obedience. That’s it. Means acting under orders, I imagine...” Then the tone became a deadly threat: “...and without having to repeat myself!”
He will kill him now! Ravenor, come to your senses. Swallow your damned pride. You have no idea what the Lord of the Black Tower is capable of.
The muscles in Ravenor’s face trembled. He clenched his jaw so that the muscles in his chin bulged.
He stared at the Prince defiantly, while His Highness’s eyes were burning with fire.
A dangerous tension filled the air, and all the men had frozen in uncomfortable silence. Eryn feared he was about to see his friend burned to ashes. But then Ravenor lowered his gaze and slowly got down on his knees so that he could be stepped upon to mount the horse.
A cloud of dirt flew up by magic and struck Ravenor in the face. This made him cough.
“A bit dusty today,” the Prince drawled.
Then he suddenly kicked Ravenor in the side with all his might. The loud clanging noise frightened Brood who jumped sideways, his fire-breath targeting Eryn. Luckily, and with wise foresight, Eryn was protected by his fire-shield.
“Can you not even control a horse properly, Nurin?” bawled the Prince, and Eryn quickly brought Brood back into position beside Ravenor, who was still writhing in pain on the ground. The armor should have absorbed the kick in fact, because Eryn and Harkon had bewitched all the breastplates to make them stronger. The blow must have been increased by magic, then. Eventually the Prince put his foot on Ravenor’s back and leapt with agility into the saddle.
“Enough time wasted! Everybody up! Off we go!”
Ravenor got up painfully and even more painfully hauled himself onto his saddle. Eryn went to help his friend, but the Prince held him back.
"Don’t you dare! And woe betide you, if you heal him!"
Eryn responded aloud: “Yes, my Prince!”
The other soldiers looked perplexed, because the Prince had turned his back on them and sat silently in his saddle some way ahead.
Then the whole escort rode off at a brisk pace. They rested but seldom and then only to water the horses. It was late in the evening before they finally set up camp.
After Eryn had cooked for His Highness, he went over to the tent he shared with Ravenor and his friend’s half-brothers. Hartwig and Lysander were sitting on their bedrolls cleaning their equipment, while Ravenor stood in the middle of the tent with his shirt off, examining the big swollen bruises on his side.
That doesn’t look good.
“Is anything broken?” asked Eryn, and Ravenor shook his head.
“I don’t think so, but it hurts like hell. Can you do something about it, Eryn?”
Eryn refused sadly. “Forbidden by the Prince himself. No healing magic.”
Ravenor glanced up and tried again with his flattering, persuasive voice:
“Come on! Just a little pain cast away. No one will ever know.”
Eryn took the leftovers of the food ration the others had saved for him. They were cold, but he was too hungry to heat them up again. After he had eaten the first spoonful, he answered Ravenor:
“You have no idea. The Prince is not the Lord of Naganor, the Black Tower’s High Mage, for nothing. He notices even the faintest use of magic, besides reading thoughts and looking into one’s past. Not forgetting the soulban, which binds us tightly together. Do you honestly think I could keep something secret in those circumstances? Sorry, but you have made your bed and will have to lie in it.”
Instead of seeing reason or showing remorse or being stoic, Ravenor got upset again: “He treats me like filth! His own flesh and blood - does that mean nothing to him? Today was so humiliating and... unjust. Why does he treat us like this?”
“Keep me out of it. I don’t complain about the Prince and won’t do so in future either,” said Hartwig as he continued polishing his boots.
“So you think that every scrubby little nobleman is worth more than we are?” Ravenor spat out provocatively.
Hartwig looked up from his work. “Little brother, I will tell you something about noblemen, so that you finally understand what all this is about. My mother told me this story and not just once either. She had a brother and a half-brother. Her father was lord of a small castle and two shoddy villages. He was just lowly landed gentry – nothing special. When he died, my mother’s brother inherited the property. But his half-brother envied him and challenged him to a duel. And the half-brother killed the brother just so that he could rule this rotten castle. Not long after that, he also poisoned his brother’s wife and little children. My mother was clever enough to escape before he got to her too. And then she bumped into Prince Raiden. And seduced him, which wasn’t that difficult because she was a pretty woman and, well, the Prince isn’t known for his chastity. Then she found out she was pregnant and thought she could make the Prince avenge her brother’s murder. But he refused, and do you know what he said? I’ll tell you. He said: “If I wanted to avenge all the quarrels and intrigues caused by the Ardeen nobility, I would have to reduce the whole country to ashes. I’ll take care of you and the child, so you won’t have to suffer. But don’t even think about using that child in a power struggle. I’ll never publicly accept one of my bastards. If I did, I would be setting Ardeen alight by my own hand.’
That’s what he said, and he is right. You were brought up by common people and know nothing about the wicked games noblemen play. To be honest, I’m glad that I was spared the nastiness too. Now think about that, Ravenor and be glad you’re not a Prince. And stop trying to behave like one.”
Ravenor pursed his lips and remained sullenly silent. Now, while they were telling Ravenor some home truths, Eryn also wanted to give some good advice.
“It’s best if you swallow your pride, because I worry that the Prince isn’t done with you yet. I know his endurance in such matters. You’ll spare yourself a lot of trouble if you surrender and humbly do what he says.”
It was obvious that Ravenor did not want to hear any of this. Eryn could see that, but he also knew that his friend would not listen to common sense.
Nevertheless, these are the things he should be thinking about.
The next day the whole procedure was repeated again. Prince Raiden ordered his bastard son to his knees and, when Ravenor hesitated – just for a moment, a magical blow hit him in the stomach, making him bend double in pain. A second spell knocked him off his feet, and then he received the vicious kick in the ribs.
Ravenor screamed in agony as he lay curled up on the ground. But the Prince seemed completely unmoved as he climbed on to the human step and into the saddle.
Once again, they traveled from early morning to late afternoon before finally setting up camp. While Eryn cooked for Prince Raiden, the Lord of Naganor summoned Ravenor. The young man approached, and it was clear that every step caused him pain, but the Prince showed no pity at all.
He ordered Eryn to collect some water – using magic - and a rag, and then forced Rav
enor to shine his boots, while His Highness gave a lecture about discipline, obedience, inappropriate behavior towards superiors and other inexcusable failures. Finally, he appointed Ravenor to be his new stable boy and boot-cleaner, charging him to look after Braeven’s Brood.
Since he’s been picking on Ravenor, I’ve had a charmed life, and now I’m rid of the stupid nag too, thought Eryn, not exactly selflessly.
In contrast, Ravenor’s life had become wretched, and every day brought the prospect of having to run the gauntlet. Astonishingly, Braeven’s Brood seemed to like Ravenor. No eye-rolling or spitting of flames, as he had done with Eryn. It was now Ravenor’s duty to attend to the stallion and to bring him bridled to his master when it was time to ride on. On each occasion, Ravenor got a close look at the ground and earned another kick.
When one side of his body was all colors from red to blue, green and yellow, and so sore that he could not bear it any more, Ravenor turned on to his other side, which soon looked nearly as bad.
His gaze lost the defiant expression and soon reflected a dull resignation.
Eventually Ravenor asked for Eryn’s advice: “When will he stop, Eryn? I am in such damned pain.”
But Eryn could not answer. “I don’t know. Probably when he believes he has achieved his aim.”
Ravenor was desperate. “And when will that be? I already do everything he demands of me. If he wants to kill me, why doesn’t he just do it? But what is the point of this evil torture?”
“You provoked him too much, and that’s a thing the Prince doesn’t forget so easily. Now you have to go through this. But look on the bright side. Since he’s been busy with you, I haven’t had even one smack on the head. And as far as I remember, I haven’t had as much as a telling-off. He’s also stopped all that nasty lurking around in my head and speaking in my thoughts. Does he do that with you too?”
Ravenor shook his head: “I’m not sure if he does. But he does everything else, and that is more than enough for me.”