by B A Fleming
The king shook his hand as he looked across to the next.
“And the stranger,” he pointed out, before Casperi could speak.
Dralan went to introduce himself and exchanged looks with Casperi.
“This, your highness,” interjected Casperi. “Is Sir Dralan of the Kingdom of Narthal.”
“You have interesting markings young man,” suggested the king with a firm but indecisive hand shake. He took one long glance at him as he turned and walked up the
steps to his throne, where a squire waited with a cool drink for him before he turned and sat.
“I call this court to order,” yelled the Kings advisor Cedric, standing across to the left of the king. “All hail King Edward, King of the Valley.”
“Hail King Edward,” the gathered courtiers and guards all called out as one, as Casperi and the others mouthed the words.
The king leaned slightly forward in his throne, looking directly at Dralan. After a seemingly long space of time the king then looked towards Casperi.
“Prince Casperi,” he began. “Your family, young Prince, has been part of the royal line for as long as any can remember. Your father, a strong and loyal subject of the crown. Although the role of governing this kingdom in a firm and fair manner can be complex at times, your father has never sought to interfere or convince those who would work against my rule. In short, your family, although mainly silent in matters of politics, has been supportive of my rule.
For you to bring the story of this stranger to me speaks of great concern, both on your part, and mine. As you know we have all grown up in this valley and no outsider has entered our realm in over a hundred years. For someone to come forward, to claim, based on the brief discussions that you have had with my advisors, of lands and peoples beyond the frozen wastelands ……. troubles me greatly.”
Most let out a sigh. It was more a sigh of disappointment rather than disbelief as they all knew that convincing the king of this story was going to be a difficult task.
“But, as you know Prince Casperi, I am a fair man and a fair ruler. So, I have convened this court to meet this man, and to hear what he has to say.” The king continued. “I am the truth of the people, and know that my time is precious, so I will not tolerate lies and deception.”
Casperi, Merlane and Dralan all looked from one to another. Although Dralan had not met the king before, he knew of his type, and the undertones of his words.
“Young Sir Dralan. You seem to be a man of courage and commitment. Your marks indicate, above all, someone of bravery and guile. It is for these reasons that I have convened this court. Please, tell me of your story, for I
wish to hear the truth of this matter.”
Dralan stepped forward and bowed to the king.
“Your majesty, thank you for your kind welcome of me to your kingdom. The Kingdom of the Valley is truly a great and vast place. My experience of it in the past few days has left me in awe of the natural beauty it contains.”
Dralan began to recount his story to King Edward and within two sentences he was cut off.
“Preposterous,” yelled the king, standing up looking straight towards his guest.
“These are lies, made up. None of this is true.”
“But Sire,” pleaded Dralan, stepping slightly forward, his two hands together as if in prayer. “I have found a tunnel that leads to this hidden valley behind the Mountains of Sart. What we thought in Narthal was merely a glacier seems to be this whole kingdom, hidden underneath a spell of some sort.”
King Edward stood in front of his throne in a fit of rage.
“Take this man to my advisors’ room. I would speak with him in private!” ordered the king as several guards stepped forward.
“His falsehoods shall not be allowed to leave this room upon order of death,” he said as he scanned the room. All around him nodded. As Dralan was led away through a side door the king concluded. “I will have private words with this man, and then determine if he is to be executed or expulsed. I shall not have such heresy in my lands.”
To be expulsed in the Kingdom of the Valley was a punishment akin to death. Only three others had been known to be expulsed, all for treason against the crown. These men had each been tied to a raft and set into the Great Turmoil, a giant rapids that flowed out of the east tip of the valley through deep cavernous walls and into the unknown.
Many had tried to escape the valley through the rapids over the years, but all had perished still within the valley walls, and the rapids seemed even more dangerous beyond.
With this King Edward turned and walked out through the door that Dralan had just been taken. Casperi, Merlane and Denue looked at each other as one of the advisors
walked towards them, and directed them to retire through the main doors.
King Edward retired to his rooms, and took time redressing and taking a short break. Dralan sat on a lounge and looked out through the open by-fold doors across the wide balcony and the city and lake beyond. A platter of fruits, bread and cheese with wine had been left upon the table.
The king entered the room and Dralan stood.
“You come to us with a very interesting story,” said the king, in a calm but very matter of fact manner, as he stood with his hands upon his hips. He indicated Dralan to follow him as he continued.
“But we can’t have such ideas bantered about in public, so you can now see why you must tell me more of these travels in private.”
The king led him to a large wooden table on the balcony. The squire that had been outside the door of the room when the king entered, carried the platter of food and the wine and glasses to the table. The king snacked on some grapes and considered the view. He indicated the squire to leave.
“So, now. Without judgmental ears about us. Tell me your actual story.”
Dralan started from the beginning, outlining in detail his upbringing in the court of Narthal, his learning of skills with the knights that took him under their wing, his defeat of the Blue Dragon, and his travels to Catheridge. Dralan outlined his plans to seek the Seer and then use him to destroy the Black Dragon.
The king raised his hand and Dralan stopped, mid-thought. King Edward stroked his small chin beard. “So, if what you say is true, then this is truly a surprising revelation. For hundreds of years we have thought this valley to be our only salvation from the impenetrable lands of snow and ice, with the Ice Gols our only neighbors,” he mused.
“To think that many lands exist not only outside, but besides ours gives way to impossible ramifications.”
Dralan noted the ambiguity in the Kings’ words, for his meaning could be interpreted in several ways. The king
sat in thought for a while considering the view and thoughts of this stranger.
“But there is only the valley, and mountains of snow and ice in all directions from us,” continued King Edward.
“But what if there is not? What if there are other valleys, other lands your highness?”
“Only if we believe the world to be as such, young knight, but it is not, for these are all falsehoods,” the king considered his words for a few moments, and then continued.
“This lifestyle, this beauty, has been enabled because of one thing young knight. Just one thing. Do you know what that is?”
“No, my lord,” sought Dralan, not willing to attempt an answer.
“Continuity,” mused the king with a mouth half full of grapes. He munched them and swallowed and then sipped on some wine.
“Continuity keeps people safe. Oh, fear works just as well, but for ease of lifestyle, continuity is much, much easier.”
Dralan watched King Edward, the rotund man obviously enjoyed his food as he took a large bite from a piece of buttered bread.
“You see, my boy. That’s where the problem lies in what you say.”
King Edward now stared straight at Dralan.
“What you say may be true, although I have many doubts in this, but even if I were to believe it so, then
why would other kingdoms be of any importance to us? Why would we want to change from a lifestyle that has served us well for generations?”
“What if it hasn’t? Would you want to live a mediocre life with a mediocre mindset if you knew there was something more? Something better?”
King Edward scoffed at the remark.
“I have seen similar markings to those of yours on woodsmen from the western corner of the valley, so I imagine that is where you have been raised. Go back to your family boy. This is my city, my valley, and my kingdom, and how I choose to run it and what happens to each of the peasants is my decision, not yours or anyone
else. Mediocre. How dare you. The people of this land have the finest of everything!”
The king took deep breaths, a few more mouthfuls of food and then continued. “I think you, young knight, you forget that you are upon foreign soil….”
The Kings’ temper started to flare again. “And I expect you to follow the laws of this land young prince, if that is what you truly are?”
“You question my heritage?” replied the stranger in disbelief. “You don’t recognize the royal seal of Narthal? What kind of Kingdom is this that can’t even see the realm right next to them?” Dralan showed him a bronze arm band on his right wrist with intricate designs on it that had been covered.
“You must demonstrate your loyalty, which I currently find lacking, if you are to retain favor in this court. You shall remain the guest of the Baron of Catheridge for his head will rest with your treachery. You shall not seek out the Seer, nor the dragon, for only I can command the dragon to be slain,” retorted the King.
Archivy and Edward had grown up within the same circles. Margaret and Isabella had been close friends and shared many occasions together. The men accompanied them although Edward had always seemed to infer his superiority to the other three when he had the opportunity.
Little by little, as he took on the role of monarch after his father died from poisoning in his early twenties, the teenage friends had drifted apart. As politics took over any sense of friendship slipped away and Margaret had developed a greater friendship with Lady Mary as Isabella became more of a recluse with her children.
This wasn’t the only relationship that sat on a knife edge with the king. King Edward and Baron Daikin had a well-bred rivalry, well entrenched in both family histories. Their harsh accusations and threats had lost their meaning over
time and now both men held a hidden resentment for the other.
He slowly said “I command you to do this, otherwise I will view your actions as treason.”
“Command?” questioned Dralan softly. Raising his hands, as if in defense he added. “I am no pawn of your realm sire, and seek to further the prospect for my own. My offer to slay the dragon comes from the obvious inability of any of your realm to do so. I will undertake this quest.”
King Edward looked at the stranger. Dralans’ calmness was ambiguous and this confused the monarch who had always seemed to get his own way. He felt slightly dazed and took a deep breath, waving the thoughts away with his hand, looking out across the lake and then back to the stranger who waited patiently for his next words.
“You must regale me with more images of your homeland young knight. For you are my guest, so rest now before dinner.” The king signaled to him nonchalantly.
At that point a squire appeared near Dralan and indicated that it was time to leave. The king sat in consideration as the warrior exited the balcony and was escorted back to his room.
Two mouthfuls later, the kings’ first advisor, Cedric, entered the room.
“Do you think they will still go?” queried King Edward.
“Most definitely sire.”
“I do as well.”
“The question I wonder is why has he come? Why has he come now?” Cedric, seemingly stared at the ground as he paced back and forth across the room. “My lord, there is danger in all avenues for this stranger to be here. In your control of this realm, and the reaction of the dragon. We should not be content until the stranger is dead, once the dragon finds him.”
“You, my advisor, worry too much for one so young. There is much to benefit us from the stranger being amidst us. Yes, he does pose a threat to our leadership of the people,
and their perception of the way their lives shall endure, but he also provides an opportunity that has, for some time, been unable to be endured.”
“How is this, my lord?” the advisor ventured. Cedric, at thirty-one summers, was the youngest of the two Kings’ advisors, but more favored over Seymour, the middle aged, and more experienced of the two.
Edward had come to realize Archivy was far more intelligent than he was, and therefore he didn’t trust him. Seymour had brought a level of knowledge and experience in the earlier years of his reign, although since meeting Cedric as a young squire, Edward had become smitten with him and his logic, and Seymour had increased played second ear to the Kings’ thoughts. This had given the king the upper hand in recent years over Archivy, and with the death of Lady Margaret, the Baron had become frail.
Seymour appeared at the door as the squire opened it, bowing slightly. He looked like an old man hardened by the ingratitude of his position. King Edward had firmly favored the younger Cedric in his guidance whom several of the courtiers had suggested more than a friendship between the two. Edwards’ skin had begun to sag in the past few years as his bones become more pronounced alike his rotund stomach.
Seymour was ruddy and languid with a stoney look and weak lips. His greying black hair, all combed back to a shoulder length that reflected his neatly trimmed beard. His hair barely fell on the slightly worn thick purple robes that he wore, decorated with golden swirls and symbols. He held his thin, pale hands together in front of him, green veins flowing across their dorsal surface leading to multiple gold rings on each, several embellished with exquisite green, blue or black stones.
“There are many that would see me dead Cedric and now is the time for the most valiant of our treacherous neighbors to be killed.” Edward glanced at Seymour, as if he had interrupted the conversation.
“I don’t trust them. I don’t think we should trust them,” snarled Edward.
“Send word by sealed parchment to Baron Brian of Tharkomad that the stranger has shared with us many stories and details of lands foreign to us. His house is known to have some of the strongest warriors of our kingdom, and that he may must make available a handful
of his finest to accompany the stranger to seek out the advice of the ancient sage”.
King Edward turned to look directly at Seymour. “Send him to Tharkomad to incept them. Tell him to kill Prince Casperi, and if his sister joins them, get him to kill the girl as well. As for Baron Archivy, imprison the old fool. He has shown where his true loyalties lie.”
“Now my lord?” bowed Seymour. Cedric looked on.
“No, let his children get into the mountains, and when word reaches us that they have left Tharkomad, then get him and imprison him.”
“You are a rightly king my lord, for your plans tell of great thought and strategy. What shall we tell the people?” bowed Seymour.
“The people need only to know the rumors that will no doubt spread, as they have in the past, and continue to do so in the future.”
“And the dragon my lord?” enquired Cedric, stepping slightly forward again.
“Leave the dragon to me. He needs to be wooed with more smoother methods.”
With this last thought Cedric left the room, calling the servant to bring refreshments to the king as he sat overlooking the southern end of the valley. Seymour stood for a moment, watching the king as he walked towards the table laden with food, and then turned to leave the room.
“This may be easier than I expected”, the king mumbled to himself. As food and drinks were presented to him, he turned and smiled at the servant.
“Good news my lord?” the servant enquired.
“The best kind” he answered as he sipped
his drink, and stared out, lost in deep thought.
*****
The rest of the stay had passed uneventfully. It was as if King Edward had never threatened Dralan, and the subject of his journey was not mentioned in any further conversations. Merlane suggested that they leave further discussions until they were headed back to Catheridge.
For Casperi, the trip to the city allowed him to visit his younger brother.
Prince Eric was ten years old and had just recently been sent off to Bhagshau to attend the Royal College. It is a school that had been completed two years before by the king to provide education to royal children and those of his rich merchant friends.
The House of Catheridge prefer to learn and train at home, and Eric had only started attending the Royal College since his mother died. The college was an example of social reproduction, ensuring that only the rich learn the skills to become rich.
He had also setup a large estate towards Caitawalaan named Malbork Manor where his family, and those of the royal houses of Caitawalaan and Tharkomad would holiday together.
For those who knew the workings of the kingdom, it was quite evident that King Edward did things only for himself and his rich friends. During the past two years, he had been spending a lot of money on Caitawalaan, and had extended the garrison in Tharkomad, to beautify the castles of his friends.
Queen Isabella had long since distanced herself from the king, and they resided in differing sections of the castle. Her fifteen year old daughter lived with her. There is also a stadium in Bhagshau named after the eldest son, Richmond, but both he and his brother Tostig were considered dandy’s and preferred the pleasures of the court to any sort of manly pursuits.
Isabella had become indifferent to him many years before when she became certain that he preferred the company of his advisor, Seymour, over her. Her suspicions had been further aroused more recently when Cedric had been
employed by her husband five summer hence, much to the displeasure of Seymour.