by Andrew Wood
He counted his pages, seventeen in all, and hoped that would be enough for the wedding service. He could not think of anything more to say about the couple, little short of being rude, and that was not just in his nature. The service for the coronation was more substantial, some thirty-four pages; after all such an occasion required more detailed and extensive narration.
Chapter 7.
Lord Willem and his contingent of twenty guards stopped at the brow of the hill. Beyond them stood the large city walls of what was now known as New Easton. He had been quite excited at the thought of attending not only the coronation, but a royal wedding as well. After his none stop work overseeing the work on the defensive lines at Berston, it was certainly pleasant to take a break from it all.
As they neared, they were met on the road by a small contingent of mounted guards. "I am General Thomas Skalton, am I to assume you are Lord Willem?" "I am he, and greetings to you General, I have heard much about your exploits." After a brief exchange of pleasantries and with the introductions over, the General, lead both groups through the new city gates and up the main street towards the keep.
Lord Willem, as a special foreign dignitary was afforded the luxury of being given one of the rooms on the top floor with the royals. He had barely walked through the door, when Caldar knocked on the door, and dragged him in to meet his younger brother. After more introductions, they all sat in Lukens sitting room, sharing drinks and Lord Willem was told of the work, taking place throughout the city.
More importantly, though he was not sure how to approach the subject, was the young prince and his ability to wield great magical powers. Not wanting to push the subject on his hosts, he instead listened to the description of the battle that had taken place. Though the description of the deeds carried out by the prince were only briefly described.
In the Besemian capital, Bashek, Jared and Kaden had found an empty wooden abode on the outskirts of the city. Accessed by a narrow, rather smelly trash ridden alley, it was sufficiently out of the way. Inside the building were two rooms, one of which had the single entry point into the property. A small window was beside the door, which was handy to watch anybody approaching.
The building appeared to have been empty for some time, there were a few cobwebs and a large amount of dust had settled on the surfaces. There was a bed in the back room, though they did not use it, as the mattress was filthy and probably covered with fleas. In the main room, there was a built in cupboard and a small iron stove stood in one corner. After a rummage around, Jared had not found anything aside from a small kettle that would come in handy for boiling water.
After clearing a space on the dusty floorboards, Kaden lay down, using his pack as a pillow. Jared had earlier used the needle and cotton they had carried in their survival equipment to sew the deep wound on his upper arm. The concern was now not the bleeding, but the infection that appeared to developing around the cut. Jared had already cleaned it the best he knew, but it was now obvious to him Kaden was becoming feverish. This was something above his minimal medical skills.
He sat watching his friend sleeping, wondering how he could further help him. They were in an occupied city, crawling with Darekian troops, and he was not certain even if he found help, the person could be trusted not to turn them in. He had also noticed Besemians amongst the guards, these were his own people, and had obviously changed allegiances. It was this factor that concerned him most, spotting a Darekian was simple enough, spotting a Besemian who sympathised with the occupiers was near impossible.
He dampened another cloth and placed it on the forehead of the older man lying on the floor. Jared felt straight away that the cloth he removed was very warm, this he knew was a sign the fever was getting worse. It now appeared he would have no other option, if he did not find help, his friend would die.
Waiting until near darkness, Jared made sure Kaden was comfortable, and after dripping a few sips of water into his patient's mouth, he collected his kit together. He put on one of the swords they had captured, and one of the dark cloaks, hoping it would be enough to stop anyone challenging his movements. Checking through the window, peering down the now almost blackness of the alleyway he crept outside.
He was not sure of where to start looking, but had decided his best bet was to return onto the main street. Despite the cities gloom he managed to stumble his way through the jumble of rubbish at his feet, and was relieved when he found the thoroughfare. At least this had a few lamps burning, and made it a little easier to see where he was going. However, on the downside, it also meant other people could see him.
Walking slowly, taking long deliberate steps as he had seen the Darekians doing, he quickly noticed the few people around seemed keen enough to avoid him. He stopped outside a building, which appeared illuminated and looked up to see a sign swinging gently overhead. 'The Royal Crown' in large lettering and below the words was a picture depicting the same.
Shrugging his shoulders, he thought this was as good a place as any. He did not want to make a grand entrance through the front doors, so walked around the back, and found a smaller doorway. He carefully pushed it open, though made sure his dagger was at hand should it be needed. As he stepped inside, he could feel the warm air, and the smell of baking filled his nostrils. A middle-aged woman, wearing a white apron, jumped, startled at his sudden appearance.
He knew it would look odd if he suddenly retreated outside, and so closed the door behind him. The woman, noticing his attire, knelt to the floor in total subservience. "My apologies, you startled me, most use the front door. How may I be of service?" Jared could clearly sense the fear in her voice, but was not sure he could risk revealing his identity to her. "Are there others like me within the establishment?" he asked in a deep husky voice, in an attempt to sound authentic.
At first, there was no reply, and he thought his cover was blown, "There are two others such as you within the common room. Would you like me to notify them of your presence?" Without thinking, "No" he blurted out, in his normal south Besemian accent. From the darkness of his hooded face, he could see the puzzlement on the woman's face. He knew he was not fooling her, as she stood and looked up at him for closer inspection. Throwing caution to the wind, he threw back his hood, "I take it I was not very convincing?" he said in an attempt of light humour.
He knew if this person wanted, she could shout and give him away. She quickly shushed him, and shoved him into a side area, used as a larder, out of sight from the common room door. "With an accent like that, I would say you're most certainly not Darekian, nor even from anywhere near here." She afforded him a smile, and he tentatively grinned back at her, realising if she was going to grass him in, she probably would have done so by now. "My late husband originated from the far south, such a lovely accent," she said with a fondness.
Jared knew he had to trust her, "I need your help. I have a friend who is injured, and coming down with a fever. I need medicine for him, and clean dressings for his wound." She stared at him before answering, "I am afraid under our current leaders such things are hard to come by. He suddenly had the feeling he was being rebuked. After a short time of awkward silence, she spoke again, "Answer me one question. Why are you here?"
It was an easy question to answer, though giving her the truthful answer could be dangerous. Realising he had now thrown his lot in with this stranger, he answered, "My injured colleague and I, are here undercover. We are to start a number of uprisings, before our armies arrive. Our aim is to aid in driving the Darekian's back all the way over the Ulga Mountains."
He noticed her look change, from one of dejection and suffering to one with a renewed sense of optimism. "I cannot leave now, come back to this door at midnight, and I will have something for you." She nervously turned around, checking no one was about to enter from the common room, "you must go for now, here take this," she quickly opened a cupboard, and took out a small bottle. She passed it to him, "mix a few drops with water, it should help keep your friends temperature down
."
He thanked her, and pulling his hood back over his head, quietly went back out of the door. He felt a little relieved at the fortuitousness of his meeting. The only thing he needed to do now was to try to navigate his way back down the side alley, through the sea of garbage and back to the house. He quietly moved his way in through the doorway, peering into the blackness within. He lit a small candle from his pack, which gave a little light by which he could make out the dark figure still lying on the floor. He did as he had been instructed and mixed the foul smelling liquid from the bottle with a little water.
Putting his arm behind Kaden's head, lifting it up, he poured the liquid into his friend's mouth, pausing each time to allow it to be swallowed. After changing the damp cloth for a fresh one, he left him to continue sleeping. He held the candle closer to the wound on the arm, and even in the dim flickering light, he could still see it was more red and inflamed than earlier.
After snuggling in the corner of the room and attempting a few hours sleep, it was time for him to venture outwards once more. After putting on the cloak, he blew out the candle, sending the room back into complete darkness. The summer night was still warm, and after manoeuvring back around the rear of the inn, he waited. He could hear the faint noise of drunken singing and shouting back out around the front of the building, an indication he hoped, that the patrons were being put out.
Deciding it best to wait, he hid in a corner, a cloaked shadow, almost invisible in the darkness. Half an hour passed before he noticed the rear door open, and a figure emerging with a lamp, "Psst! Are you here?" said a woman's voice. He slowly stepped out of the shadows, and dropped his hood, revealing his face. She waved a hand signalling for him to hurry indoors.
Once inside, she bolted the door, "quick, through here" she ushered him through into the common room, which was now empty. The room was overly warm and stank of rancid stale ale. They then went behind the bar area, and through another door, up a narrow set of stairs and finally stopped outside another. The woman tapped gently, whispering loudly, "I have him here." Jared's first reaction was that of panic, and he quickly pulled his cloak aside, and drew his sword. If this woman had betrayed him to his enemies, he would have no qualms in killing her.
She quickly stepped back, holding her hands up in a gesture of surrender, "we mean you no harm, please", she said opening the door into a well-lit room. He looked inside to see three men, looking just as shocked as the woman did. Realising he may have been over acting he slowly replaced his sword, and stepped into the room.
He joined the others around a table, and the woman placed down a tray of glasses down upon it. Fetching a decanter from atop a sideboard, she started pouring what Jared assumed brandy. "Please excuse me having startled you sir, these three men I know, and want to help you. My name is Isobel, and this is Lester, Trenton and Alvin." Jared nodded a cautious greeting to each man in turn, before taking a proffered glass. Taking a sip, he almost coughed; such was the strength of the spirit.
He listened as Isobel explained who the men were. Lester, a large dark haired man with a huge beard was an ex palace guard, that had left the service of King Belin after he had taken to siding with the Darekians. Trenton, a tall thin man in his forties was a medical practitioner and Alvin, a shorter, chubby man, was a shop owner. He wanted them to quickly join him back at the house and help Kaden, but it appeared for now he was stuck here answering questions.
It was the man known as Lester who asked the first, and as an ex-soldier, it came as no surprise he wanted to know about the army that was to come and save them. Jared guessed it would do no harm in telling the truth and so explained to them of the seven southern lords. He paused and realised these people, trapped inside the walls were probably not even aware of what had gone on. He told them that, as things stood, the entire north of both their nation and that of Corlan was under the control of Darekia. They were stunned when he told them that the great city of Hamalin had been levelled to dust and rubble by some dark magical spell.
They appeared appeased when he told them of the alliance between the new South Besemia and its neighbour Corlan, who were rebuilding after defeating a much larger Darekian force. They were now currently holding a defensive line, and he further explained, he was there with Kaden, to help the populace of the city prepare and set the groundwork for any future plan to retake Bashek. "Are there many others like you? I am not sure who I can trust." Alvin answered, "I know of a few smaller groups, but I ask you to take care. You may have noticed our own men amongst their guards. It is rumoured that somehow they are controlled by a priest who resides in the palace."
Jared was becoming a little agitated at the continuous questions, and though he was aware of their need for knowledge, he wanted to go back and help Kaden. "Listen, I need to know, if you want to help then I need you to come and aid my friend. He is much an important part of this as I am." Trenton stood, and after picking up a small bag, "come on, I think I should go and see. We can make a time to meet again in the future."
Jared slowly made his way back through the darkness, and any concerns he may have had at being spotted out so late were unfounded. Aside from a few sleeping drunks slumped in doorways their route back to the house went unnoticed. On entering, he relit the small candle and pointed to the dark shape on the floor. The two crouched over Kaden and Jared pointed out the wound on his upper arm. Trenton quickly opened his bag and unrolled a sleeve of surgical instruments. Taking a long sharp needle like object, he pierced it into a swollen looking part of the cut.
Gently squeezing the wound, Jared felt rather squeamish, as he could see a thick puss ooze out of the cut. Once satisfied no more could be extracted, Trenton rummaged back in his bag, and opened a small jar. He then pasted a pungent smelling cream all over the infected area before covering it up with a clean fresh dressing. "That's the wound sorted, now we need to get him to break this fever," he said putting his hand across his patient's forehead. Removing a small vial, he asked Jared to hold the candle steady, and closer, "I must be careful to only give him a few drops of this. Once I have, it will render him into a deep sleep for twelve hours or so. It shuts the body down, allowing it time to fight the infection."
Once satisfied, Trenton stood back up; "I think it best if we next meet at this location. I will arrange it." Jared agreed the others knew their way around the city far better than he did, and so meeting here would make sense. Furthermore, Kaden would need checking again in another day or two. He watched from the doorway as Trenton vanished into the darkness of the alleyway, before closing the door. Realising there was nothing more he could do for now, he wrapped a blanket around himself and curled up on the floor to sleep.
In Easton Luken was having a fitful restless night's sleep. The fact he was getting married in a few hours time had finally hit him. He was certain he loved Sarena, but the thought of having to share the rest of his life with the same person had started to scare him. He had earlier voiced his concerns with Caldar, who had just laughed at him, and told him it was normal to start getting cold feet before a wedding. How would he know anyway, he had never even been married.
Twice already Luken had resorted to pacing around his bedroom, and had even drunk a few glasses of wine in an attempt to help his sudden onset of insomnia. A small figure appeared from the small room next to his, "Are you alright Dad?" he apologised to Taylor for waking him, "sorry I cannot sleep. I have a lot going through my mind at the moment." He turned and took Taylor by the hand, "come on, and you need to go back to bed."
Chapter 8.
The entire city it seemed was awake early and already preparing itself for the momentous day that was about to take place. The platform for the coronation and wedding was complete, and two poles either side now stood proudly flying the colours of Corlan. Members of the royal household were out early making sure everything was in position, and three men were lifting the large throne like seat up and positioning it in the centre.
Bunting had been made and hung along th
e length of the main street. People were also busy, in what would after the days celebrations become the market square. Long tables were being put up, and the large barrels of wine donated by Lord Galliss, were rolled onto their stands.
The itinerary for the day would see the coronation of the king start at sometime mid morning. After allowing people to break for lunch, the royal wedding would then take place shortly after that. Both services were to be carried out by Father Dagon, and once complete the city would be able to eat, drink and dance the rest of the day away, and celebrate deep into the night.
Caldar was so nervous he did not eat breakfast, and was already dressed and completely ready by the time Vanessa was up out of the bed they shared. He stood by the window, dressed in his military uniform. Straight black trousers with a red stripe running down the outside of each leg, black highly polished leather boots, white silken shirt, and a black tunic with gold epaulets and buttons. "You look very smart," she said in her soft seductive voice, before wrapping her arms around him. He quickly rebuked her, "mind out, I don't want you to crease my tunic all up", he flustered. She stood back grinning at him, "oh stop fussing, and stop worrying. If you're nervous, think how bad Luken and Sarena probably feel."
Of course, she was right; he was only being officially made king, something that he had been, in all but name, for some time now. His poor little brother was getting married, and he afforded himself a smile at the thought. It was still hard for him to believe how much Luken had changed since the time he had left him in Hamalin. He had left behind a quiet, shy boy, and returned to find his dear little brother a well-respected young man.