by Sigrid Kraft
Suddenly Eryn laughed: “Do you know what just occurred to me? Didn’t you always want the Black Prince to pay you more attention – like he did to me? Well, how do you like it now?”
“Yes, gloat over my misery, mock and taunt me. Honestly, the whole thing is foul, and it’s about time that we changed roles again. He’s constantly lecturing me, and all I can say is “yes, my Prince”. At least you can talk to him about magic.”
“That, Ravenor, is a very bad joke. He obviously thinks of me as a child when it comes to magical matters and has absolutely no interest in making conversation with me. He is a damned genius, who knows everything... and I hardly know anything.”
Ravenor started complaining again: “I can’t endure this humiliation any more. I’ve hardly any pride left.”
Eryn gave a final piece of advice: “Then lose the rest of it. That might spare you some suffering. At least, that’s how it was with me.”
“Hmm, I’ll think about it. I have enough time while I’m lying awake in pain all night.”
The next morning came, as feared, and this time Ravenor was already kneeling beside the stallion before Prince Raiden had even given the order. Just the thought of the next kick in the ribs made Ravenor shiver. He heard the steps coming closer and then there was silence as the Prince stopped beside him.
Come on, make it fast and get it over with, Ravenor begged fervently. But nothing happened.
“Get up, soldier!”
Ravenor got up in disbelief, clicking his heels.
What new devilment is this? He will no doubt destroy my hope soon and order me to kneel down again.
A faint smile flickered around the corners of Prince Raiden’s mouth.
“It seems you have finally learned your lesson about debasement. But let us make sure. Tell me who you are and where your place in the world is.”
Ravenor considered. If I say the right thing now, the torture can end. But what are the words the Prince wants to hear? He thought of Eryn’s advice and swallowed his last bit of pride.
“My Prince, I am the dirt below your boot,” he said flatly.
The Prince peered at him and Ravenor lowered his gaze. It was not fear that made him do so but the feeling of being completely empty inside. And sad. Very, very sad.
“Well, that is a bit drastic, but it makes the point,” the Prince said finally and then added: “I will make you an offer. I will dismiss you from the service and release you from your oath, or you can stay in the Guard. It is up to you. But if you leave the Guard, you have also to leave Ardeen and never come back. The choice is yours, soldier.”
Although it was a difficult decision, Ravenor quickly made up his mind. There was a lump in his throat as he croaked the words: “My Prince, I would like to stay in the Guard.” After all it is the only thing I have and Ardeen is my home.
The Prince pierced Ravenor with his steel-blue eyes and seemed to be weighing things up. Eventually he said: “Well, let us leave it at that. But there will be no more misconduct in future.”
“No, my Prince.” Ravenor agreed hurriedly.
The Prince was pleased and announced cheerily: “Then let’s go home!” He was almost joking when he added: “And don’t forget the lesson I have taught you. I wouldn’t like to have made all that effort for nothing.”
The Black Prince took the reins and swung himself into the saddle, this time without Ravenor’s help.
While Ravenor was walking over to his own horse, he was busy thinking: … made an effort for nothing. Some effort he made! It must have been exhausting kicking me in the ribs. And a grain of pride spiced with a pinch of arrogance meant that the vast emptiness inside him was not so empty any more.
14. The Gelderon War
The Prince abhorred politics and he avoided them by staying out of that kind of trouble as far as possible. Why did Danian become King otherwise? It’s his job to deal with political mischief. I have no interest in any of that nonsense.
It seemed, though, that something was brewing in the realm of intrigues and insincerity. Not in Ardeen but in the neighboring country, Gelderon. One of their high lords, Helwig Berington, opposed the crown so vehemently that his action split the land and people in two. The situation was tense and the conflict could turn into civil war at any time.
Uproar in nearby countries always spills over the border. Or so Danian believes.
The King had spoken urgently and in great detail with his brother about this matter. In his meticulous way, Danian had pointed out all the possible scenarios: a flood of refugees, bringing hunger and sickness with them; attempts by the different parties to find allies and the resulting danger of being drawn into such a conflict; large-scale price rises caused by the fact that various trade routes ran from the coast through Gelderon; and rape and pillage by mercenary hordes with little respect for borders on a map.
What else could happen if a rebellion starts? Danian is always so nervous and then he starts to worry me. Unfortunately Lord Berington’s estates border Ardeen in the north and, as Protector of the North, it is first and foremost my responsibility to secure that border, if it really comes to a riot there.
The whole situation demanded that plans and preparations be worked out. Prince Raiden was now trying to pass this unpleasant task on to Lord Boron sitting opposite him. He breathed solemnly and began: “King Danian fears that Gelderon could soon drown in civil war, with Lord Berington against the Crown. Most odd. I always thought Lord Berington a reasonable man and not some foolish hot-head plunging his country into civil strife. But such would seem to be the situation at the present time, and we need to prepare. What would you suggest, Lord Boron?”
The Gray Wolf scratched his head, assessing the strategic aspects. “We should in any case advise the frontier castles to ready their troops. If I am right, Lord Berington and his Braithall men will be on one side, with the King’s men on the other, so the battlefield will be somewhere inbetween. The nearest region on our side of the border would be Wyvernwall, Lord Danwick Durin’s estates. So we should turn our attention there especially and also to the road to Aspengate. All we can do at the moment is to keep our eyes open and be alert. Or you could raze Gelderon to the ground, which would solve our problem once and for all.”
This was hardly a serious suggestion, and the Prince replied in similar humor: “A good idea, that. Nothing would please me more. Unfortunately, my wife has family over there, and so my hands are tied to a certain extent.”
They were interrupted by a guard entering and handing a letter to Prince Raiden.
“My Prince, the messenger is still outside. He awaits your answer.”
“If someone sends me a letter, he is either so pitiable that he has no mage under his command, or it is of certain importance and rather official,” said Raiden as he opened the envelope, removing a folded sheet of paper. As he read, he immediately began to frown.
“Bad news? Is Gelderon finally at war?” Lord Boron asked inquisitively.
The Prince shook his head: “Even worse. Lady Chrystell is coming to Naganor, wishing to discuss some urgent matters with me and, as she is already underway, I can’t rebuff her without causing offence.” He turned to the waiting soldier.
“Tell the messenger that I await the arrival of Lady Chrystell and...” Prince Raiden searched for the proper formulation, but then decided: “Well, that’s enough!”
The soldier exited, and Prince Raiden crumpled the letter up, levitated it and incinerated it with magical fire. A shower of black ash fell to the floor.
Lord Boron stood up. “I had better take my leave now, so that you may prepare for your wife’s visit, my Prince.”
Prince Raiden responded to these words by glaring at him most severely. But Lord Boron already had his back to him, being almost at the door. Then Prince Raiden was alone.
Damned bitch! She knows I can’t stop her from coming, now that she is already on the way. Her endless nagging is insufferable. I can hear it even before she gets here.
Lady Chrystell arrived with her daughters and cortege the very next day. Prince Raiden gave his official welcome in the great hall: cold, distant and stiff with embarrassment.
I had better brew up a strong love potion to get me through the next few days.
Both daughters, Estell and Ariel, were the spitting image of their mother, with their blond hair and pointed mouse-like faces.
Of all the children I have ever sired, these two look least like me, and it makes me wonder if they aren’t mine at all. Not that it matters. This marriage is pure politics and so are the offspring.
Prince Raiden was annoyed to see thirty bodyguards enter the room behind Lady Chrystell.
“My darling, I have had the east wing made ready for you.” The saccharine words were followed by a similarly false reply.
“How caring of you, my husband! Particularly as I intend to stay quite a while this time.”
We will see about that! “You know, yourself and the children are always welcome here.” Prince Raiden tried to smile but only succeeded in contorting his lips. He examined his wife’s escort. “You have brought a stately number of soldiers with you!”
Lady Chrystell replied in her high-pitched voice: “The streets are so dangerous nowadays. I require them for the safety of my children and myself.”
I will not tolerate foreign troops in my castle. “You need have no worries for your safety here in Naganor, my Lady. As long as you are in my home, the soldiers can find quarters in the village.”
Lady Chrystell being Lady Chrystell, she disagreed at once.
“My husband, I must protest. This is not just a question of safety but also a matter of etiquette. Your daughters are of an age now when they require a personal guard – not to mention my own person. Let me remind you, I am a princess of Gelderon.”
Prince Raiden replied with a sweetly threatening voice: “You are under my personal protection now, Lady Chrystell. Or do you infer that I – the Lord of Naganor - am incapable of performing this task? Would you rather watch while I destroy these puny guards of yours with fire, just to convince you?”
The men went pale and looked around in fear for ways to escape.
Prince Raiden continued: “And speaking of the girls... I will find some men from my formidable Guard for them. What is more, all citadel gates are manned day and night. That is certainly more than enough to guarantee your safety, my Lady.”
Lady Chrystell’s smile was less than convincing, and her nose wrinkled to show how unhappy she was with the turn their conversation had taken.
“You argue very well, my husband, as always. If you prefer, the escort will stay in the village. I hope you will not mind if my maid and servants stay here with me,” she added pointedly.
The Prince ignored that and said instead: “Do you protect your thoughts with an artifact, my Lady?” He was astonished to see the heaviness of the magic chain around her neck.
Her cheeks blushed ever so slightly. “That, my Prince, is for the benefit of both of us. Would you really like to know my most intimate thoughts?”
God, no!
She went on, feigning fatigue: “I am so dreadfully tired by the exhausting journey and would like to retire to my rooms at once. I do so need to recover from that awfulness. I will join you for dinner, my husband.”
Before the Lord of Naganor could respond, her Ladyship had already turned and swept out of the hall, followed by her flock of servants.
During this official welcoming ceremony, Lord Boron had stood close to the wall, trying his best to remain unnoticed. He was keen to avoid being involved in that kind of verbal combat. Once Her Ladyship had left, Prince Raiden needed a few seconds to calm down again, then, remembering Lord Boron’s presence, he ordered: “Send for Eryn and Ravenor! They now have the honor of protecting my wife’s daughters!”
Lord Boron raised his eyebrows, unable to hide his astonishment: “Ravenor?! My Prince, do you think that a good idea? After all I heard about the incident in Arvon?”
The Prince hissed with annoyance: “Precisely because of that! I want to see if he has learned his lesson.”
With a shrug of his shoulders, Lord Boron left for the garrison.
Shortly afterwards, the two victims saluted their Prince, and His Highness explained their new task. Eryn was far from happy about it, and Ravenor would not be drawn on the subject at all. The special treatment on the return journey from Arvon had depressed him enormously, and he had lost all taste for adventure. No more reckless plans to break the rules, but rather a certain apathy which was not at all like his former cheerful nature.
The Prince was in a bad mood, so caution was needed. He began picking on Ravenor.
“Well, soldier, I hope you have understood the mission and your duty. Or do I need to take your sword away right now?”
Ravenor replied without any suspicious emotion: “My Prince, that won’t be necessary. I’m well aware of my duties.”
Just like wild animals. The alpha dog is testing if he is still boss of the pack, and the pup runs off with its tail between his legs. Oh-oh, get rid of such dangerous thoughts! If the Prince reads my mind, I’m toast!
So they got their orders and went straight to their new quarters after leaving the hall. Prince Raiden thought it better they should also stay in the citadel, and Master Werge, the steward, had given them a small chamber in the east wing, adjacent to the chambers where the ladies - young and not so young – were accommodated.
Presently they were called to attend in the great hall. While the gentlefolk dined, Eryn and Ravenor were able to demonstrate how guardsmen could stand to attention, perfectly motionless.
An uneasy silence filled the room, the only sound being the clatter of cutlery. Then Lady Chrystell spoke up.
“Husband of mine, you really should consider engaging a new cook.
This meal is totally devoid of flavor and so…. ordinary.”
“Is that so?” the Prince replied.
“Indeed. You have been absent from court for far too long. The cuisine there becomes more delicious every year and the chefs constantly outdo themselves to create works of art.”
Once the food had been comprehensively rubbished, Her Ladyship gave a lecture on the outdated furniture and shabby furnishings which made Naganor a cold, uncomfortable place.
She then complained that the citadel was vastly understaffed and, as a result, she was having to hunt high and low for a servant whenever one was needed.
The list of shortcomings went on and on. Even in her room, Her Ladyship was not spared the stink from the stables, which was so pungent that all the rosewater at her disposal was not enough to mask it.
Eryn was astonished that the Prince was able to respond to all these complaints with such self-control.
Had I been even half so bold, there’s no doubt I would’ve been blasted across the hall and splattered against that wall there.
The two girls, sitting at the same table, did not breathe a word. Eryn guessed the older one to be around thirteen. She was almost womanly already, albeit rather skinny. Wholly impassive, she seemed to have drifted off into a world of her own. The younger girl, however, could not sit still. Pushing her plate from left to right, she spilt peas all over the table. She was clearly younger by a few years.
Eryn remembered how playful Prince Raiden had been with his brother’s children and saw how much less he cared for his own flesh and blood. Ravenor and he suddenly became the focus of Lady Chrystell’s attention.
“Are those two dolts over there the bodyguards your have chosen for the children? I almost thought they were statues, seeing them there so lifeless for so long. You, both of you, over here!”
Lady Chrystell beckoned them disdainfully. Eryn and Ravenor hesitated, looking to the Prince instead. Should they obey Her Ladyship’s order, or would the Prince then feel slighted himself? Besides, neither of them was taken with Lady Chrystell’s manner.
“Step forward!” the Prince commanded curtly, and they crossed the ha
ll to stand beside him.
Without further ado, Ravenor was assigned to Lady Estell, the elder daughter, and Eryn to the little Lady Ariel. Along with the children, they were then dismissed from the hall, much to Eryn’s relief.
Now that the Prince was alone with his wife, he tried to speak seriously:
“So, my Lady, what important matters brought you here to me? I doubt you came merely to bemoan Naganor’s inadequacies.”
“Quite so. I would not come to this godforsaken hole willingly. In fact, I did desire to talk with you in Arvon, but sadly you were so occupied with whatever it is you do, and then you left so prematurely...”
Lady Chrystell had a habit of talking without stopping for breath, so the Prince interrupted her:
“Get to the point! What is troubling you?”
She smiled wickedly. “Apart from your conjugal duties, you mean…? Well, it is high time we found a suitable match for Estell.”
The Prince appeared surprised. “Is she not still too young to be thinking about that?”
“Not at all. Estell became a woman this year, and it is fitting that the betrothed should spend some time getting acquainted before the wedding. A period of two years is customary.”
Is that so? Then why did we only have three days? And the old King of Gelderon was delighted to have offloaded his touchy daughter, whom no one else wanted. All for the sake of an honorable peace. So the King got me - gullible Prince Raiden – to take that witch off his hands. And it was my father’s express desire. King Tarn would brook no argument. My hedonistic lifestyle was damaging the kingdom, he said. In those days, the King my father still had his wits about him but, considering how my marriage has turned out, I can’t help thinking it was the most insane idea he ever had.
“And whom do you have in mind?” An Orten, an Agarat...
“The decision is completely up to you, my Lord.”
This astounded Prince Raiden, because as a rule Lady Chrystell had an opinion – the right one – on everything. It was therefore astonishing that she was allowing him to decide. Not even a “But, to my mind...”