Rivalyn

by Rachel James

  “Praise Him, for bringing you to us at such an hour. Come, my father should like to meet you, under more favourable conditions, that is.”

  She left Niall with her father and then took her place next to her mother. The feasting was a joyous occasion, and everyone was in high spirits at the safe return of their leader. However, a troubling sensation lingered in the pit of her stomach. Things would not go on as before, but was she ready for the change? She glanced over at her father talking to Niall and frowned. Father looked like he’d seen a ghost.

  She looked around the room to see if anything was out of the ordinary but could find naught. Mayhap the ordeal had affected them all more than she realized. Had they tortured her father? Answers were unlikely to be given tonight, in such a public gathering. She was weary. Mayhap tomorrow things would look a little brighter.

  The feasting had finished, and the door to the hall swung back and forth with the wind, the darkness of night clear. Druce went over to stoke the fire, his shoulders heavy.

  His wife sat on the high seat next to his. He knew what she was thinking. Thirty years of marriage had seen to that.

  “We will need to fortify our defences,” he said. “I cannot sit back and watch one of ‘the three’ rule our kingdom.”

  Meredith went over to him and placed a tender hand upon his back. “Then who will? You?”

  “’Tis Alys’s birthright and you know it.”

  “Aye, but is she ready? Would Rivalyn welcome a female ruler? She has done naught to earn their trust and respect.”

  “It be time, my love. She learns from the very best. She can needlepoint—”

  Meredith coughed into her handkerchief.

  “Play and sing—”

  “Moderately.”

  “Wield a sword—”

  “Much to my disgust.”

  Druce turned and placed his wife on his knee. “The only way she can learn to rule is to be given the chance. I will announce her bloodline at the council meeting on the morrow.”

  Meredith gasped. “The moment her royal lineage is revealed, she will be a walking target. People who long for power will wish her dead. Others may seek to snatch her and hold her for ransom. This will weaken our position, not strengthen it.”

  “’Tis a greater risk, aye. Which is why we must build our defences. We need more guards on patrol, increased watchmen, and most of all, Alys will need her own protection.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You wish to bring that man into the royal guard don’t you.”

  “Niall.”

  “Aye, him. There is something so familiar about him, and odd. Why would a simple manservant rescue a princess? How did he do it? Is he a servant, or a spy? And for whom? We know naught about this man, and you want to entrust him with our daughter?”

  Druce smiled. “On the contrary, my dear. He visited Rivalyn with his father, over twenty years ago.”

  She pulled a face and paused. “Not Niall of... Elmetia? Surely not, why then he would be a—”

  “Prince? Aye. Although, if what I heard is true, he is a king of a distant land, or was. When I was held captive at Cynehofa, I discovered that Niall had been shipwrecked, restored to health by the king’s adviser, Odi, and put to work in the palace.”

  “Niall is a common enough name. He must have been...eight or nine, when we saw him as a boy. I suppose there is a slight resemblance, but we cannot be sure. If it is him, then why all the pretence?”

  Druce toyed with his beard. “He does not lie, for he gives his true name, and there is no crime in a king wishing to be a servant. Is it not what Christ taught us? Servant leadership?”

  Meredith harrumphed. “I think you take that a little out of context. Well, are you going to confront him on it?”

  “I do not see why. He obviously has his reasons.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “He might vie for the throne for himself. Then we’d be putting Alys in harm’s way.”

  “He saved her life, remember? His actions to do not speak of deceit. I wonder if he longs to reclaim his own throne, although there is naught left in Elmetia but a handful of alehouses. Besides, if his intentions are bad, what better place to have him, than under our very noses? Nay, I suggest we bring him into the household guard, and partner him with Cabal, for those two seem to work well together.

  “All this change, ’tis difficult, like we are losing everything...even our daughter.”

  Druce wiped away the tear sliding down his wife’s cheek. “She may not be of our blood, but she will always be our daughter, given to us by God Himself. He knew our needs before we did ourselves. Alys will require our support more than ever now.”

  Alys had never been allowed at the council meetings before. She sat next to her father, on the high seat, and scanned the hall occupied with the ealdormen of Rivalyn. She gripped the arms of her chair to disguise the shaking of her hands. She didn’t feel right about this, not one bit.

  Her father motioned for silence. “Good men of Rivalyn. King Eadward is dead, and there is uproar throughout the land. Queen Wynflaed rules in his stead, but I do not think it will be for long. Already I have received word from our contacts in Shieldia that Wilhelm and Osgar both vie for the kingship.” Druce paused, as the room burst out in uproar.

  “We cannot be ruled by such tyrants,” said one of the ealdormen. “They will never allow us to continue to lead our country.”

  “Our council will be abolished,” shouted another.

  Druce raised his hand once more. “Indeed, we cannot let this happen. Whilst Eadward was overlord, he allowed our local government and customs. This will not be with the Shieldoks. Which is why, I propose that we utilize our opportunity, and reinstate the monarchy.”

  Several gasps and hushed tones echoed around the hall.

  “Who do you propose as king—yourself?”

  “Nay. Whilst it is the council’s place to appoint the king or queen, our custom is to follow the royal bloodline.” He paused again and scanned the room. “Queen Aloedia carried a child before she was killed. She took herself to Castraholm to give birth, but they became under siege. What you do not know, is that before she died, she gave birth to a girl. She placed the baby into my care, and I took her into the Rivalyn palace. Her identity was not revealed, to protect her from harm.”

  The room grew quieter with hushed mumbles.

  Druce turned to Alys and motioned for her to stand. “Alys. Daughter of Queen Aloedia and King Lamorak, the true heir to the Rivalyn throne.”

  Alys held her breath as the room remained in stunned silence. Not the reaction she was hoping for.

  An ealdorman stood. “You say that Lady Alys is not your daughter?”

  “That is correct, Lord Banber.”

  Banber, with one arm folded and the other resting beneath his chin, spoke once more. “What proof do we have of this? We cannot take your word alone.”

  Alys blinked. All this hung on the word of her father.

  “My wife is a witness. She can give testimony to the council.”

  “We need something more substantial here,” said Banber. “’Tis our ancient custom, that the ruler possesses the Sword of Rivalyn.”

  Druce’s mouth dropped open. “You know that the sword disappeared during Aloedia’s reign.”

  Banber cleared his throat. “Many say this led to her downfall.”

  Other council members nodded in agreement. “We cannot have a monarch without the Sacred Sword.”

  Druce stood with clenched fists by his side. “The sword is a symbol, and naught more.”

  “Nay,” said Banber. “It is our royal sceptre, and a sign of God’s anointing—if God wants a monarch for us, he will show us. If Alys is, as you say, truly the next ruler of Rivalyn, she must show her worth. When she possesses the sword, we will recognize her as our queen. All those in favour?”

  Alys felt sick at the resounding ‘ayes’ that reverberated around the room.

  Druce cleared his throat. “And if the sword is never
found? What then?”

  “You continue to rule as praefect,” said Banber.

  Alys had never seen her father so riled. She followed him as he stormed out of the hall, leaving his ealdormen speechless. “I do not understand. Why do they prefer a praefect’s leadership to a monarch’s?” she asked him.

  Druce ground his jaw. “Because it gives them more power. A monarch is advised by the council, not ruled by it. A praefect, on the other hand, is subject to a majority vote.”

  He slammed his fist against the door.

  “Father!” she took his hand in her own and examined for any damage. “Why are you so angry?”

  “They are foolish. To continue as we are, we will be overturned by Shieldoks, and now, more than ever, you are in danger. Your mother was right. I have put you in harm’s way.”

  “I can protect myself.”

  “You are not infallible, daughter. Niall and Cabal agree to be your bodyguards. I am afraid, this is going to take you a little getting used to.” He turned to her and squeezed her shoulder. “From now on, wherever you go, they will go. They will be posted outside your chamber, when you visit the village, and when you go to eat in the hall...”

  She gasped. “Even when training with Calipher?”

  He hesitated. “Fair enough, that you can continue in secret.”

  Alys sighed, still a little agitated. “What danger can I be in? No one believes I am a princess.”

  He shook his head. “Oh, do not doubt it. The seed is planted, and you will now be a threat.”

  She exhaled, the magnitude of events slowly sinking in. “I thought Niall would leave us. He said, he goes where God leads...”

  “The Lord has led him here, for such a time as this. Niall seems to agree.”

  The rising nerves in her gut began to settle. Who knew what lay ahead of her? Only God. She had to put her trust in Him.

  Chapter Five

  3 Months Later

  “I need to get out,” declared Alys, as she paced the length of the hall.

  Ariana continued with her embroidery. “Your father said it was unsafe.”

  A twinge to her side reminded her of the harm that could come their way, but if she stayed in much longer, she’d go insane. She glanced at her two soldiers, guarding the door as always. It was so easy to forget they were even there for they never made a sound.

  Alys fastened her cloak. “Come, let’s go to the mound—we’ll keep our distance, I promise.”

  Sighing, her maid set down the fabric and linked her arm into Alys’s. “Very well, my lady.”

  It wasn’t like she was under house arrest, she convinced herself. Her father was merely being cautious.

  They left Ryvilla through a side gate and headed for the hill overlooking the road. She gasped at the procession of Shieldoks marching toward her home. The Bannerman carried the purple and gold Shieldok flag. Her heart beat faster at the sound of drums, and she shook her head. “Father worries about the danger, but he invited them here.”

  Ariana quirked her brow. “He confronts his struggles head-on, ’tis better than running away from them.” She pointed at the two men at the front. “Is that Wilhelm and Osgar?”

  “Aye.”

  Ariana pulled a face. “I wonder if your father is thinking of a marriage alliance.”

  Alys jerked her gaze away from the entourage and leaned on her elbows. “What nonsense.” The notion held no merit, did it? To form an arrangement with pagans? To share her crown with a Shieldok?

  She glanced at Niall and Cabal. They followed her around like her own shadow. Heard everything she said, witnessed all that she did. What did they think of her?

  Suddenly self-conscious, she rose. “Come, we’ve not long before the feasting.” She breathed in a long stretch of fresh air and started back, her bodyguards in tow. Nerves began to consume her as they re-entered Ryvilla. Why did she have such a bad feeling?

  Ryvilla buzzed with activity as preparations were made for the week of feasting. Niall was stationed at the back of the grand room, next to Cabal. He witnessed the proceedings with much concern. The soldiers were on high alert this eventide, as the three Shieldok kings and their accompanying noblemen were to join them. Niall ground his teeth. The event was supposed to help Druce establish good relationships with the enemy, but from his brief encounter with the warlords, they were not to be negotiated with.

  He scoured the room for Alys. She was so busy he had a hard job keeping track of her whereabouts. There she was, beside her father. Her rigid stature told him how she really felt.

  Niall moved closer so he was within earshot. Alys’s face was tense, and her voice strained. He placed his hand gently on the handle of his sword out of habit.

  “What can be gained, Father, from inviting them here? They killed the king and blamed me for doing so.”

  “We must show them a better way. Not everything can be resolved by violence. Peace is made through alliance. It’s imperative that we display no fear, and that we have naught to hide. Besides, our own people must see that you are being proactive.”

  She paused, her face paling. “Alliances? You refer to marital?”

  “I do not wish it, but it may come to that, to ensure the survival of our people. We discussed this, child, on many occasions.”

  She swallowed. “I know, and if this be God’s will, then I will accept it. But...” her hand trembled. “They are brutes.”

  “Every man can be tamed, daughter. You must endeavour to win their favour. ’Tis better to do so on our territory, where they are under the watchful eyes of our palace guard.”

  She nodded, stiffly, her gold earrings dangling and catching the candlelight. “Aye, Father.”

  Niall froze as the Shieldoks entered in a brash and boisterous manner. Such heathens didn’t deserve to be in the presence of someone like Alys, let alone entertain the concept of matrimony.

  Bordan headed straight for the high table and sat next to Druce. Alys, he noticed, kept her distance from them, despite both Wilhelm and Osgar staring at her hungrily.

  Music soon started, which successfully covered the tense atmosphere, and as other guests entered and the food was brought out, the feasting got into full swing. After a few hours, more wine and ale were also replenished.

  Niall walked the perimeter of the room. From his vantage point, he could see the comings and goings of people very easily. He watched Alys rub her forehead, her pained expression showing the pressure she was under. Her half-smiles were all politeness, but he knew otherwise. After all, he’d watched over her for months now. He knew every facet of her features and could tell what she was thinking. Right now, she longed for a place of solitude. Surely, she had attended the feasting long enough.

  He was not meant to interfere. He was supposed to remain invisible. But he could not be completely helpless. Gently taking her elbow, he guided Alys toward the exit. She frowned—confusion displayed in her eyes. But before she could voice any objections, a scream, followed by the sound of over-turned tables, drew his attention. Behind them, chaos ensued, and all he could think about was getting Alys out of there.

  Alys held her breath as she stood behind the stone pillar, keeping to the shadows of the night. Her pulse quickened. Her instincts told her to fight, but her sword was in her chamber. “We must flee to the mountain,” she whispered to Niall.

  “We cannot pass through the gate, my lady. Shieldok warriors surround this entire estate.”

  She shook her head. “We can use the underground passage, through the crypt.” She glanced over at her father, who was shielding her mother from the onslaught. “Retrieve my parents and meet me by the grave of my grandfather.”

  “I have sworn to remain at your side. I’ll not leave you now.”

  “Please, Niall. I can take care of myself. I just need to fetch some things from my chamber. Go!”

  Niall wore his helmet, so she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. But, he did as she bid, and headed for the high table, using a platter for a
shield, and his spear as a sword. When the exit was clear, she darted for the back door which took her directly to her chamber where she found Ariana. “Get your things,” she said to her handmaiden. “We leave immediately.”

  “My lady?”

  “Now, Ariana,” she urged.

  Satisfied that Ariana hastened, Alys stripped herself of her elegant gown, and instead, dressed in her mail tunic, leather hose and warrior shoes. She checked the fastening of her sword, and inhaled. “Are you ready?”

  Ariana carried a sack of items and nodded.

  They hurried through the palace corridors, the sound of fighting spilling out from the hall. “Keep to the shadows,” she whispered to her maid. The last thing she wanted was for the Shieldoks to discover her escape route.

  “Father!” She flung her arms around him as they neared the crypt. “Thank the Good Lord you are safe.”

  Cabal came around the corner with her mother. “I need more time to gather the troops.”

  Her father shook his head. “We go now.”

  Alys hesitated. “Very well, we do not need an army to escape. Let’s press on.”

  They reached the grave of her grandfather. A statue of him, wearing the famous Rivalyn armour, stood boldly, marking his tombstone. Alys grabbed the medallion which dangled around her neck and inserted it within her grandfather’s shield. She twisted it round, and slowly, the floor panel parted, revealing the staircase to the underground tunnel.

  Niall removed his helmet, and his eyes grew wider. “Do you always carry that on your person?”

  “Aye.” Alys took a deep breath as she moved downward. She always hated going through the small space and had to swallow any threat of panic. Fortunately for her sake, her slender build rendered it easier for her to pass through, but the men...their groans could be heard from a distance.

  “I didn’t even know this existed,” exclaimed Cabal. “Did you?” he asked Niall.

  “Nay. I’ll warrant it leads farther up the mountain.”