by Nathan Roden
Fifty-Two
The guards led them inside the gates. There were no guards posted at the doors of the castle.
“No guards?” Simon said.
“Sterling ordered everyone to the front. We three are all that remain.”
“I would have done the same in his position,” Simon said. “Please round up the staff.”
Twenty minutes later fifteen sleepy but nervous men and women joined them in the parlor. Simon scanned their faces.
“I remember most of you. Do you know who I am?”
An old woman choked back a sob.
“By the gods! Is that you, little Simon?”
“Yes—”
The woman pushed past the others and threw her arms around Simon.
“Oh, you were such a delightful child! It broke my heart what they did to you!”
The woman backed away and glared at Magdalena. She pointed a crooked finger at her.
“What is she doing here?”
“Calm down, Eunice,” Simon said. “Your name is Eunice, correct?”
“Aye,” Eunice said, her anger still evident.
“The Lady and I have made our peace. In fact, she is responsible for the birth of the rebellion. We are friends now. Good friends.”
“I’ll have to chew on that one for a while,” Eunice said. “So you’ll be the king now?”
“Yes, my lady.”
Eunice looked at her fellow servants.
“Well, don’t just stand there like stuffed shirts. How do we feel about trading Sterling for this nice young man?”
They whooped, hollered, and clapped their hands.
“Will you all be staying the night?” Eunice asked.
“Yes,” Simon said. “Simple guest quarters will be fine. Don’t go to a great deal of trouble. We’ve had a long day and tomorrow will be busy as well. I will address the people early in the morning.”
Eunice stared at Simon.
“Will you be staying in—?”
“No, my lady. Simple guest quarters, please. And you should also know that Lucien was killed in the battle. By Sterling, as fate would have it.”
The people were silent.
“Lucien joined us weeks ago. I dare say we made up for some lost time. We became friends.”
“He never had a chance, Simon,” Eunice said.
“I know.”
They were shown to their rooms. Simon sat down on the bed. He was very tired, but he was also very curious. First, he visited the royal chambers. Large portraits of both Lucien and Jaclyn graced the walls. The sight made Simon sad. He closed the door and climbed the stairs at the end of the hall. He stepped out into the throne room. The cold night wind passed through from the open balcony. Simon was not sure if the chill he felt came from that wind alone.
He stepped out on the balcony and looked out over the courtyard.
“I thought I might find you here.”
Simon turned. Magdalena smiled at him.
“It feels strange, doesn’t it?” she asked.
“It feels even stranger now,” Simon said. “I was afraid of you when I was a child.”
“You should have been,” Magdalena said. “I was heartbroken, angry and prone to making bad judgments. And I knew just enough magic to ruin a kingdom.”
Simon stared at the floor.
“I know it’s impossible, but I still smell the blood.”
“By the gods, but it is creepy up here.”
Boone and Helena had climbed the stairs as well.
“Do you feel that?” Helena asked Boone. Boone nodded.
“You can feel it, can’t you?” Boone asked Simon.
“Yes,” Simon said. He pointed at the platform where the thrones stood.
“The original curse took place there. My mother and father died, there.”
“And my daughter—”
Magdalena bit her lip.
“I’ve made up my mind,” Simon said. “The throne room will be rebuilt. After I address the people in the morning, this room will be emptied and its contents destroyed.”
“Even the thrones?” Boone asked.
“Especially the thrones,” Simon said. “This room will be used to store goods for the poor and unfortunate.”
Magdalena, Boone, and Helena clapped their hands.
“Bravo!”
“A splendid decision, Your Grace,” Magdalena said. “And not yet one hour inside your castle.”
Simon took one more look across the courtyard. Boone clapped him on the back.
“You’ve done it, Simon. You’re the king.”
“We’ve done it,” Simon said. “And together we will make this a better world.”
Simon yawned.
“Such a task will require some sleep.”
Fifty-Three
Simon woke at the crack of dawn. He swung his feet to the floor as a knock sounded at his door.
“Yes?” he said.
Two servants entered with their gaze to the floor.
“Are you ready to dress, Your Grace?”
“Look at me,” Simon said.
The servants slowly lifted their eyes.
“You are no longer required to listen at my door—or anyone’s door—to perform your duties. You will hold up your heads like you belong to the same people you serve—because you do belong. Is this clear?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“I trust you have some clothes that will fit me,” Simon said. “All I have is the clothes on my back.”
“Yes, Your Grace. Right away, Your Grace.”
“Wait,” Simon said. “Nothing too fancy. No frills or lace. And certainly no scarlet and gold. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Four servants returned with a suit of clothes. They stood waiting to help Simon dress.
“I can dress—”
Simon sighed.
“Have any of you had breakfast?”
“Certainly not, Your Grace.”
“I can dress myself. Go and tell the cooks to make plenty for everyone—including themselves. I will meet you in the dining hall.”
“In the dining hall, Your Grace?” one servant asked.
“Yes,” Simon said. “We will all eat together from this day forward.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” they said softly. They whispered among themselves as they left the room.
“Most unusual…can you believe this?”
The tower guards looked for Simon. They found him in the dining hall. They stared wide-eyed at the sight of the entire servant staff eating along with the new king.
“My lords!” Simon said. “Sit. Join us!”
The guards shuffled their feet.
“Two men were dispatched to the Coleman farm before dawn, Your Grace. And the people have been notified to assemble in the courtyard in one-half hour.”
“Excellent,” Simon said. “You have plenty of time to eat. Someone get these men a plate.”
The guards sat. Their faces showed their confusion.
They stood in the throne room. The buzz from the crowd spilled over the balcony.
Simon addressed the elder of the tower guards.
“Would you mind announcing me to the crowd? The people know you.”
“Me?” the man said. “You want me to announce you?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“It would…it would be an honor, Your Grace.”
“Citizens of Morgenwraithe,” the guard began. “Lord Sterling Morgenwraithe is dead.”
The people erupted in celebration. The guard held up his arms.
“Captain Raynard is dead.”
The celebration continued. The guard held up his arms until the crowd fell silent.
“I have more announcements. This one brings me no joy. King Lucien…is dead.”
There were only curious rumblings among the crowd.
“I know you have heard rumors over the years—and many more rumors of late. But I am here to tell you this morning. The future
of Morgenwraithe is in good hands. Citizens of Morgenwraithe, may I present to you the rightful heir to the throne of Morgenwraithe, and your reigning king
“King Simon Morgenwraithe!”
The crowd erupted in celebration as Simon stepped forward. He raised his hands. After what seemed like an eternity, the noise of the crowd finally faded.
From the middle of the crowd came a shout in unison.
“We love you, Simon!”
A nervous hush fell over the people. Frightened citizens moved away from the guilty pair—twin red-haired teen-aged girls. The people stared apprehensively at the balcony.
Simon raised his hand. He pointed at the girls.
“I love you, too!”
The love affair of the people and their new king began in that moment.
“I am Simon Morgenwraithe. I am certain you all know my story. But you do not know everything.”
Simon held his hand out to his side. Magdalena joined him. The people gasped and then a low roar of whispers began.
“Yes, this is Lady Magdalena. Magdalena Raven, to be precise. She placed the curse on me, here in this room, over twelve years ago. But time has changed many things. We have been allies for several months—and now count each other as friends. This friendship, along with many others, formed the basis for what transpired on the King’s Road in the last few days. You and I are now free of Sterling’s reign of terror. We are free to work together for a better tomorrow!”
When the applause died down, Simon continued.
“In the next few days, many citizens of Islemar will arrive here. Among these will be Lord Nicholas Lamont, his family, and his officers. And the village will welcome home its queen; Queen Jaclyn Lamont Morgenwraithe.”
There was another roar of approval from the crowd.
“Do not expect changes to happen quickly. The business of the kingdom will remain in the hands of the queen and Lord Lamont for the time being. I wish to become accustomed to life as a man before taking on the duties and responsibilities of your king. I want to earn your trust.”
When the latest round of cheers died down, Simon spoke again.
“The first order of business will be a happy occasion.” Simon waved Boone and Helena forward. He took their hands.
“My dear friends, Lord Boone Blankenship and Lady Helena Fuller will be wed in this very courtyard as quickly as arrangements can be made. The days of terror are ended, my friends. It is time to celebrate!”
Simon waved and stepped away from the balcony. A guard topped the stairs.
“Abraham Coleman and his family are here, Your Grace.”
Simon clapped his hands together.
“Well, show them in. And bring in the farm stewards and their assistants.”
“Only two remain, Your Grace. The man who keeps the books and his assistant.”
“That’s even better,” Simon said.
Fifty-Four
Simon climbed the platform to the King’s throne. He ran his hand along the arm.
“I hate this thing. I will not sit upon it after today.”
“It is probably your conscience bothering you,” Caleb said with a smirk. “Because you keep secrets from your friends.”
“Trust me,” Simon said. “You will enjoy this.”
Simon turned and sat. He wore a sour expression.
“I don’t like this seat. I don’t like it at all.”
He nodded to the guard.
The man entered the room slowly. He held his hat in his hands. He looked around the room, his eyes wide with wonder. His children followed him, wearing similar expressions.
“Good morning, my lord,” Simon said.
The farmer and his children began to kneel.
“That won’t be necessary, Lord Coleman.”
“Begging your pardon, Your Grace,” Abraham Coleman said. “I’m no lord. I’m just a poor dirt farmer.”
“You needn’t belittle yourself,” Simon said. “Farming is an honorable profession.”
Coleman dipped his head.
“How much land do you own, Abraham?”
The farmer’s head snapped up at the mention of his given name.
“I…I used to own twenty field acres. My crops failed two years in a row and I was forced to sell off half.”
“How did you attain those twenty field acres?” Simon asked.
Coleman fidgeted with his hat.
“I got them fair and square, Your Grace. My father bought them.”
Simon motioned to a servant. The servant handed Simon a roll of parchment. Simon unrolled it.
“According to kingdom records, your father worked the kingdom’s fields as a debtor for over twenty years.”
“That’s true,” Coleman said. “He worked for over twenty years in King Bailin’s fields. But he paid back every single shekel. And he bought those twenty acres when he could barely walk.”
“These children—they work for you?”
“They do what they can,” Coleman said. “We have to eat.”
“And do you eat?” Simon asked.
“Most every day,” Coleman said. “As long as the rains keep coming.”
Simon leaned forward.
“Are you good at what you do, Abraham Coleman?”
“I…I believe I am, Your Grace.”
Simon rolled up the parchment and gave it back to the servant. Simon stood and picked up the smaller bundle from beneath the throne. He waved to Abraham.
“Come closer.”
The farmer stepped forward cautiously.
“This belongs to you,” Simon said.
Coleman took the bundle. He stared wide-eyed at Simon.
“Open it, please,” Simon said.
Coleman laid the bundle on the floor and untied the rope that held it closed. Inside was a pair of dirty trousers, an even dirtier shirt, and a pair of worn-out boots with holes in the soles.
Simon’s head fell backward as he laughed.
“I told you they would not be worth having when I was done with them—but I think they held up pretty well, don’t you?”
Abraham Coleman’s jaw worked back and forth soundlessly as he ran his hands across one of the boots.
“You…you’re…noooo. It can’t be…”
The youngest girl tugged on her father’s sleeve.
“What is happening, Father?”
The farmer’s jaw trembled. His eyes welled with tears as he stared into Simon’s eyes.
“You...you’re him? You’re the dragon?”
The two girls began to cry. The boys were on the verge.
Simon fell to his knees in front of them.
“Don’t cry, children. It was a mean trick I played on your father. I would not have done such a thing if I was not going to make it worth his while. And worth yours.”
Simon smiled and touched the cheeks of the little girls.
“You have nothing to fear, little ones. Do you believe me?”
The girls sniffed, dried their eyes, and nodded.
Simon returned to the throne. He sat and sighed. He motioned toward a man.
“My lord,” Simon said.
The small, nervous man swallowed hard.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“How much farm land does the kingdom own?”
“A little more than three thousand field acres, Your Grace.”
“And who works this land?” Simon asked.
“The land is worked by debtors, Your Grace. It has been this way since the days of—”
Simon waved his hand.
“I am not in the business of carrying on traditions based on tyranny, my lord. From this day forward, all debts to the kingdom are forgiven. Let it be written.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the man said. “But who will—?”
“Someone will have to work these lands,” Simon said. “I am aware of this. Those who wish to continue working these lands will be working toward the purchase of their own land—in sections of thirty field acres.”
&nbs
p; The man made notes on his parchment, a smile growing on his face.
“Anything else, Your Grace?”
“The Head Steward for the kingdom’s farm land. Where is he?”
“Dead, Your Grace,” a guard answered. “As is the rest of his staff, save for this man who keeps the books, and his apprentice.”
Simon stood. He held up his hands and looked around the room.
“I need a sword, I think. I’m not sure. But it seems like the thing to do.”
A guard handed his sword to Simon.
“Ah,” Simon said, accepting the hilt of the sword.
“Abraham Coleman, step forward.”
The farmer stepped forward cautiously.
“I need for you to kneel this time,” Simon said. “It’s the only way I know how to do this.”
Abraham knelt. Simon lowered the sword to the farmer’s shoulder.
“Abraham Coleman. I need a man skilled in the ways of the land. I need a man to perform the duties of steward over the kingdom’s farmland. The position provides a home with rooms for five or more. You’ll be free to take what you need from the fields to feed your family. You’ll be paid in gold; enough to put good clothes on your back and the backs of your children. And there will enough coin left in your pocket, for say, the occasional piece of hard rock candy.”
Simon winked at the farmer, finally coaxing the slightest of smiles from him.
“You will have a seat on my council, of course. If any of your children wish to continue working in the fields, they will be paid a fair wage, provided it does not interfere with their schooling.”
The two girls gripped hands. They were barely able to contain their excitement.
“Schooling? We’re going to school?”
“All children of the kingdom will have the opportunity to attend school,” Simon said. “We will all learn our letters and our numbers and learn to read.”
The farmer had tears in his eyes.
“I don’t deserve such kindness, Your Grace. I am not a perfect man.”
Simon grabbed the large bundle and opened it. The books spilled out.