Blood and Water: The Lionheart Province (The Chronicles of Alburnium Book 1)

by J. R. Castle

  Mother rested her hand on his arm. “Leonard, I implore you to be firm. It is for their greater good, even if they do not readily see it. If they do not wish to take care of the land we’ve portioned out to them, you must do what is necessary to protect what Shaydon has given us. To excuse or ignore even the smallest is to weaken the rest of us as a whole. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  He patted her hand. “Yes, Mother. I completely understand. I hope that I will not have to uproot anyone, but I will be prepared to do what is needed to keep Rodonal intact.”

  “Good boy. Remember, it only takes one moldy apple to ruin a whole batch if we do not remove the rotted fruit with promptness.”

  Leon nodded, but still hoped it would not come to that. Regardless of his desire to keep the peace, he would prepare himself to fight for what rightfully belonged to his King. He only hoped beyond hope it wouldn’t come to a battle. He was a negotiator, not a warrior.

  * * * *

  Leon planned for the tour to take him no more than three seasons. His hope was to return to Rodon before the first snows fell. As he packed the books, maps and other necessities he’d need during the trip, Riyah came to pay him a visit at his private cottage near the fortress garden. He’d always loved the orchards and the view of the Leukos river that surrounded Rodon.

  Instead of living in the drafty castle, he’d asked to have one of the more modest houses converted into his residence. He was still within the castle grounds, so that satisfied his mother who insisted he remain close to the Meeting Hall.

  The smaller wattle and daub house was stone along the bottom story and timber along the upper floors. When they’d fitted it for his residency, someone had added glass to all the windows. Not necessary, as far as he was concerned, but the secluded structure surrounded by vast gardens pleased him.

  He almost hated the idea of having to leave so soon.

  “A few months out of one year,” he mused to himself. “I’ll be back before I know it.”

  “Let us hope that is the case, my friend.”

  Leon blinked, glancing around his sitting area beneath a budding maple.

  Riyah stood a few feet away, admiring a row of daylilies growing along the walkway. The Elderad seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

  “Come, Riyah, have a seat and let’s enjoy this last evening in Rodon.” Leon reclined on a wooden bench with his legs stretched out before him. The bushes adorning the garden were filled with green buds. He regretted that he’d miss watching his cozy yard bloom this year.

  Riyah was dressed in a silk, full-length coat the color of morning fog. His snow-white hair hung freely down the middle of his back. He wore the silver headband of his order, along with the medallion of Alburnium. It was the same medallion everyone who made the trek to meet King Shaydon was given except his was made of the purest silver. One side had the White Tree emblem of the Kingdom, and the other would have the insignia of a person’s prime talents.

  Leon had a hammer and chisel inside a circle of leaves on his to signify his skills of building and ruling. The circle of leaves had only recently appeared after Issah had come to swear him into his new office.

  Riyah took a seat beside him on the bench. “Isn’t this a fine night? Shaydon seems willing to bless our departure tomorrow with pleasant weather and the promise of a new season. It makes my heart glad to know change is coming. How about you, Leonard the Lionhearted?”

  Leonard the Lionhearted.

  That’s the title Riyah alone called him. Unfortunately, Leon did not feel he had the heart of his family’s crest: the lion. He seldom felt brave, and he certainly wasn’t stern like his father. Even if he’d vowed to be tough on this trip. Much depended on his ability to re-establish a relationship with the long-neglected villages of Rodonal.

  Leon hoped the town leaders he visited with would be willing to realign themselves with the capital. He looked up at the white-stone Meeting Hall, several stories in height, where they invited people in for weekly meetings, festivals, trade, and council. They even had Instructors and an institution where people could begin their training and learn what their strongest qualities were.

  “Yes, Riyah, I’m eager to get our tour started. For these past three weeks, I’ve studied and researched all the towns in my province, and I feel ready to reach out and meet them.”

  “Good.” He folded his arms over his chest. The scent of Aloblase hung about the Elderad, a sweet scent of jasmine and other spices. “I wished to discuss a little matter that you also need to consider while we visit the townships.”

  “What’s that, Riyah?”

  “The matter of finding yourself a helpmate.”

  Leon sat up. “A wife? Are you serious, Riyah?”

  The Elderad smiled in response with a slight nod of his regal head.

  “But, Koloman said I should marry someone from a neighboring kingdom.” Which had not appealed to Leon in the slightest. “He said that is what Father did. Mother came from the capital Kinti of the Kintinian Province.” Which explained her dark features and graceful mannerisms. The people of Kintinian often ended up working as Instructors or Advisers for the Grand Cities like Radiance, Denovo, and Aloblase. They were the only humans granted entrance into the secret Halls of Knowledge where all instructors were trained. They were a noble people, proud and strong-willed. Like his mother.

  However, his parents did not have what he would consider a close relationship. They both had their separate suites and the only time he saw them sitting together was at the fancy galas they often put on to entertain the wealthiest of Rodon.

  “What if I’m not ready….”

  “Perhaps this day you are not. But soon, you will wish for someone to share your heart with. Someone who will stand by you and help as you lead the people. I’m merely planting the seed of an idea that you should keep your eyes open as we travel along. You do not have to concede to an arranged marriage. You may pick your own helpmate.”

  Leon would certainly like to pick his own wife. The thought of allowing someone else, such as his father’s law-keeping advisers, Koloman or Stoneson, to pick his wife was out of the question. No telling what he’d end up with.

  “Oh,” Riyah added, “Speaking of our friend, Stoneson, has been elected to come with us on your tour.”

  “What? But I told those old… I told all of them that Issah assigned you as my adviser and that they would soon be assigned elsewhere.”

  “I know,” Riyah stated. “Your mother is working on finding places for them. However, Koloman feels, as your father’s closest adviser, that the city should not be left entirely to your mother’s care. He has, um, graciously volunteered to stay and render whatever services are needed during your absence.” The growing smile on the Elderad’s fair features did not amuse Leon.

  “Poor Mother. What should I do? I don’t wish to cause ill feelings with any of them. They have served Rodon for a long time.”

  “Too long. Indeed.” Riyah paused a moment admiring a flock of geese that flew overhead toward the river. “I understand your heart. It is a kind and gentle heart. Perhaps it would be more prudent to request that both men accompany us. Then their, um, wisdom will be of more service to you.”

  Leon turned toward the Elderad with a confused look. “You’re not serious, are you? Then I would have to put up… I mean, then…oh, troll’s breath. Is there not another way?”

  “Indeed, there is. You could dismiss them from their duties and give them provisions to make it to Radiance or wherever they choose to set up new residences. It is your decision.”

  Leon released a frustrated sigh. He did not wish to be burdened with the boars, nor did he wish to leave them for Mother to contend with, either. Truth was, he didn’t really trust them, but he didn’t wish to get on their bad side, either, by dismissing them so soon after he’d taken over as Regent. “I will tell both Stoneson and Koloman that they will come with us. Seems I have no other choice.”

  Riyah stood and gazed at th
e orange band of clouds resting on the far horizon. “You always have another choice, my friend. You simply must be brave enough to choose it.” With that, he bid Leon a good night and left him to return to the Hall.

  Chapter Five

  Kardia strolled through the center of Goia where Dadda was holding an audience with the people in the common area. Benches circled the low rise in the ground they called the speaking mound. Mother stood regally at his side, both of them dressed in their finest attire.

  Asmita had become a shrewd business partner, helping her husband plan out the best way to disperse their cursed gold coins in trade for real goods.

  At first, the townspeople had been suspicious about how the poor Miller had become so prosperous overnight. Wilhelm stuck with his story that a wealthy man had purchased the plot of land behind their mill. Before more questions could be asked, Asmita went into her speech about the upcoming visit from the new Regent. She warned them that if he came and saw the present condition of their town, they might all risk being cast out of their homes and off their land.

  “He will bring in new people who will work this fertile land. Who cares how we came about the gold? What matters is that Wilhelm and I are willing to share and help bring prosperity to Goia once again. If you do not wish to partake in this good fortune, then you are welcome to leave and find somewhere else to live. Wilhelm and I plan to invest our wealth into reviving our village.”

  A cheer rose up amongst the majority of the attendants. A couple of men objected to being told what they would have to do, but the rest of the families silenced them, siding with Asmita. Yes, they wanted to do what was necessary to improve their living conditions. If Wilhelm was generous enough to share his wealth, then they’d go along with whatever he planned.

  Asmita was sure to explain that all they would require in return for their investment was a portion of the town’s yield when the crops came in or the animals were ready to butcher.

  “I also wish to request,” she continued, not looking at her husband. “That Wilhelm and I be designated as the new Priors. We should be allowed to take over the Meeting Hall. Everything we need to manage this town’s affairs is already there.”

  Dadda’s eyes widened, but he said nothing. This was not part of their agreement. But Mother seemed to have made up her mind. If they were going to do this, they were going to do it in style.

  Kardia found she’d actually miss their cozy little round home with the pointy roof. She hugged her arms around herself, trying to ward off the evening chill. Or perhaps it was something else that left her trembling. Already, they’d stopped discussing how to get out of the sorcerer’s contract, though Dadda continued to promise he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

  She so wanted to believe him.

  The crowd surrounding her parents discussed Mother’s demands. Kardia caught snitches of those discussions. Some thought it was a trick. Others a blessed opportunity. What difference did it make who lived in the old Meeting Hall? It would soon fall down from lack of care, anyway.

  Despite the dissenting views, once Mother showed them a basket filled with a small portion of their gold, all arguments and protest ceased.

  “Tomorrow morning, we will begin dispensing funds according to each family’s needs.” Mother said, making sure to jiggle the basket, so the strange coins clinked together.

  Finally, Dadda raised his hands to draw everyone’s attention back to him. “We will send out honest individuals to purchase seed, tools and the livestock needed to begin reviving Goia. I suggest we head east, to Kaim and Karm and north to trading villages near Melodies Forest. They will not have any qualms about what kind of coins they accept as payment.”

  The tavern owner, a burly man with thin dark hair and a thick beard, hopped atop of the mound and stood beside Mother. “I vote we accept Asmita and Wilhelm’s request. Let them take over the Meeting Hall. Wilhelm can appoint a new miller and baker to their place. Let us revive Goia and save our homes from the new Regent!”

  From the crowd, a couple of men cheered, “Hear, hear! No Regent has ever done us any favors before. We have to take care of ourselves, we do.”

  More people shouted their agreement. Mother grinned and draped her arm over Dadda’s stooped shoulders.

  Over the next week, Dadda moved them into the drafty, dust-covered two-story building located in the center of town.

  Mother used some of the money to pay women around town to help clean the Meeting Hall. Her parents took the large rooms upstairs as their own. Each had their own private suite to sleep in. Mother boasted about how they would now live as royalty.

  Kardia tried to absorb their excitement. Life certainly was simpler, in a way. At least her bed was more comfortable. But at first, nothing else had seemed to change. Nobody was willing to help their neighbors unless there was a suitable gain to be had. More often than not, Dadda had to pay men to help repair the livestock pens or to till the garden grounds outside of town where they’d plant wheat.

  He said he didn’t mind, that they had enough, but Mother insisted that if they weren’t going to willingly help out, she’d have to demand a higher rate of exchange come harvest time.

  As the months warmed into summer, Kardia, along with everyone else, started to forget about how her family had come into their wealth.

  Kardia stayed busy helping to disperse bags of seed they’d purchased from nearby towns in the next province. There wasn’t any time to think about how, with each passing month, she grew closer to being claimed by their benefactor.

  Kardia often stopped by Miltie, the herbalist’s, house as she went about her daily rounds. Mother had a list of people Kardia was to check in on weekly to make sure they weren’t taking advantage of their “generosity.” Mother always was the suspicious type. But Kardia enjoyed visiting her neighbors who had much better dispositions with the promise of fresh crops and food in their bellies again.

  These days, when she stopped in for a visit, people welcomed her in and offered to share something they had just baked, or crafted, as a treat.

  “There is my lovely Kardia,” Miltie exclaimed as she bent over a bed of her prized herbs. A heady aroma of rosemary and crushed basil filled the air around where she worked.

  Kardia sat on the soft grass beside the older woman. At one time, her long, wavy gray hair had been a brilliant red. Miltie’s pointed chin and almond shaped eyes hinted at a bit of Fae in her bloodline somewhere.

  Reaching into the pocket of her apron, Kardia pulled out a small hand-held trowel. “I fixed this for you, Miltie. And I also brought you a couple of the muffins our cook baked using the herbs you shared with me yesterday.” She produced a small cloth bag filled with the extras left from their breakfast that morning.

  Now that Miltie had unlocked her gate and began trading again, the Healer, Mr. Tillus, had enough medicinal herbs to make a few elixirs and other concoctions that kept people healthy.

  The only thing they did not have was a Healing Tree that bore fruit. Nobody mentioned how the old one had turned completely brown since Dadda had met the stranger in the woods. Even the grass surrounding it was brown and parched, despite all the recent rains they’d been blessed with during the spring season.

  Miltie examined the tool, her lined brow furrowing as she turned it over in her aged hands. “My, this looks like the same wood as the old handle. But it was completely busted. I can’t imagine how you were able to mend the grip back together.” Her brown eyes lifted, then narrowed in suspicion.

  Kardia tried not to squirm. “Why do you think the old handle was mended, instead of replaced?”

  “Because.” Miltie turned the handle to show her a caved T someone had made in the wood. “My Tarlton did that. If you had it replaced, his mark would be gone, now wouldn’t it?”

  Oops.

  Kardia didn’t wish to tell an outright lie. However, if Mother knew she’d used her powers to repair the tool, she would be furious.

  But Ellis, the carpenter, had been so bus
y trying to help repair the livery stable that she hadn’t wanted to trouble him with fixing a small tool. Kardia had decided to make a quick repair of the splintered handle herself.

  “You know,” Kardia tried to sound casual. “A little glue and some sanding.” She didn’t like fibbing but had no choice. “Ellis has been so busy with repairs.” She shrugged and opened the bag filled with muffins. “You must taste these. The added basil and thyme made a world of difference to the dough.” Gone were the days when they had nothing else but dry, tasteless bread made from whatever grains they could scrape together.

  Soon as the harvest came in, they’d be able to dine on squash, pumpkins, and other fresh vegetables grown in the community gardens. Even now, the town folks’ diets had improved considerably. Along with their temperaments.

  Kardia allowed these small accomplishments to fuel her troubled heart and pushed aside worries about the future. Anything could happen to change the course of a person’s life. She only needed to hang on to her hope.

  The sound of an approaching wagon drew Kardia and Miltie’s attention. Kardia rose and helped the elderly woman to stand from her crouched position. They both walked toward the gate where they could see better.

  Two wagons pulled up before the Meeting Hall across from Miltie’s cottage. Most often carts full of supplies, new tools for working the land, or more grain for the livestock arrived a couple of times a week.

  This wagon was piled with new furniture.

  Kardia shook her head. “Now what has Mother ordered? Dadda told her that the old table chairs were good enough. But she keeps going on that the seats were uncomfortable.”

  Miltie laughed. “Looks like Asmita won again. She knows how to get what she wants, that’s for sure.”