Rivalyn

by Rachel James

  Alys looked at Niall, concern showing on his face, and froze at the sound of growling. Without moving, she glanced up and gulped at the sight of a pack of wolves. “It’s true?”

  Niall moved protectively in front of her. “Thought you said they were just superstitions.”

  She tilted her head. “Well, we could consider wolves to be monsters, I suppose.” They were the largest she’d ever seen, their eyes a piercing grey. Her heart pounded harder. “I have never been up close to one before. They’re just like dogs, surely.”

  Niall cleared his throat. “We have them in Angularem and they’re not friendly.”

  Alys raised her sword.

  “What is it they are defending?” asked Niall.

  Alys studied their surroundings. “The entrance to the temple.”

  “Is that where the sword is? Inside a pagan temple?”

  Alys frowned. It made little sense. If the sword brought down the stronghold, it would not be inside it. “The legend says that God anointed the sword during battle. I don’t know where my grandfather was when it happened, not precisely.” She exhaled, eyeing the wolves—they had not moved closer toward them, nor ready to attack. “The sword of the Spirit represents the word of God,” she said to herself. “The Scripture has to be the key.”

  Niall walked around the edge and began to recite Ephesians. “…Be strong in the Lord and in the power of his might. Put on the whole armour of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil...”

  Alys joined in, “For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood…” She glanced up to the sky, aware that there was an entire spiritual realm that they could not see. What was going on up there? Was there a battle taking place, invisible to the natural eye?

  “Stand, therefore,” declared Alys, her voice growing more confident as they stomped around the edge of the ruins. “Having girded your waist with truth…” she touched her belt as she spoke and felt the strength of the girdle that held her sword in place. Suddenly one of the wolves growled and etched closer to them. Instinctively, she raised her shield, covering her face and upper torso.

  Niall crouched down to the ground with her. “… Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the spirit...” His strong arm held her close, and they watched the wolves draw closer together.

  The leader of the pack howled, and Alys shivered. Was prayer their secret weapon here? She thought back to the stories of old. Joshua and the Battle of Jericho. Moses and the Red Sea. There were so many examples of when God had intervened and brought his people victory. She listened to Niall as he continued the passage.

  They had to have courage. She rose to her feet and began praying. “God show us the sword, that you desecrated for my forefathers. Lord, if this be your will, and I am your chosen one to lead my people, then lead me to the sword...”

  She etched forward, but Niall reached out to grab her. “Nay, Alys.”

  “We must not fear,” she reassured him.

  He studied her countenance and sighed. “Well, if it worked for Daniel in the lion’s den...”

  He stood by her side, and they climbed the mound of rubble. The wolves did not move, to the right or the left. Alys held her breath as they walked through. Beads of sweat lingered on her brow and ran down the side of her face. The palms of her hands turned slippery, but she gripped even tighter. Her sword remained raised, as did Niall’s, until they came to the entrance of the temple.

  She froze. Mayhap the wolves weren’t the ‘monsters’ after all.

  “What is it,” asked Niall, who stood with his back to her.

  Her throat tightened, and her voice came out in a meagre whisper. “A bear.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Deep brown eyes stared back at her. The beast stood on its hind legs and roared violently, and the hairs on the back of Alys’s arms raised. She closed her eyes as she sensed the bear edge toward her.

  Slowly, Niall turned around, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

  Oh, please God...

  Niall took hold of Alys’s hand. She glanced at him, without moving her head.

  He squeezed her fingers and then began to walk forward.

  Alys’s pulse quickened, and her legs shook. It had worked for the wolves, but a bear? It could crush them in a second.

  Be strong in the Lord and the power of his might.

  The bear backed down and turned its attention to a pagan seal cracked in two, its pieces shattered on the ground. Vines covered much of the rubble, which shook unnervingly as they climbed over to get to the other side of the site.

  They picked up their pace as they bypassed the now distracted bear.

  “There’s naught here,” said Alys with dismay.

  A fire bowl lay turned over, next to several human remains, still visible where their lives had departed from them. Alys shivered and continued to mutter prayers as they waded through dust and debris.

  Niall stopped. “You were right. The sword would not be in the temple.”

  Heart thumping, she turned to where Niall gazed. Ahead of them was a stone monument. Only from this height could it be seen. With a ragged breath, she hurried down the mound, skidding down to the bottom. She barely noticed the grazes which formed on her hands as she leapt toward it. “’Tis an altar,” she whispered, examining the carvings.

  “This cannot be more than twenty years old,” declared Niall in amazement. “Look at the condition of the rock, this style of masonry is akin to recent practice.”

  “Then, my mother...”

  “Aye.”

  Alys gasped at the sight of the familiar inscription. “Treow ferrum wealdon pax servat creda.” She ran her fingers frantically along the stone, looking for some kind of lever or hidden compartment. “The sword has to be in here.”

  Niall joined her, but to no avail. He rubbed his chin in thought. “The temple was torn in two. Why not this also?”

  “It was built after the event, as you say.” She frowned. “At the centre of the cross, is Christ, and Christ is also the chief cornerstone.”

  Niall leaned on the corner of the altar. As he touched it, the bottom stone rolled away.

  Alys hastily pulled at the gathering rubble, and the sun caught the edge of a pommel. With a deep breath, she used both hands to extract the weapon from the earth’s foundations, its size, magnificent, and Niall had to helped her pull the sheer weight out from the ground. Its two-edged blade was perfect, still as sharp as the day it was forged. The centre of the handle held the Rivalyn crest on one side, and the royal seal on the other. Along the blade, read the familiar inscription, and an additional one.

  “A sceptre de iustitia est sceptre de regno,” whispered Alys.

  “A sceptre of righteousness is the sceptre of thy kingdom,” interpreted Niall. “A Scripture from Hebrews?”

  A tear ran down the side of her face. “Aye, ’tis proof that this is the Sacred Sword. This is, essentially, our royal sceptre. I cannot believe we have found it.”

  Niall exhaled. “Well, let’s get this wrapped up and convene the council—we’ve not a moment to lose.”

  A Shieldok soldier stood at each guard post, their purple and gold cloaks moving in the wind. Alys shivered, raised her hood, and kept her head down, thankful for the warmth of her mantle which covered her armour. The early morning frost lingered at her feet, and her breath drew a vapour as it hit the cold air. She held Niall’s hand as he guided them both through the crowds. Despite the earliness of the day, the city bustled. They made their way to the tavern where their soldiers often frequented.

  “You think he will be there?” she asked him.

  “If not, then one of our contacts.”

  To her relief, Cabal waited for them. Other guards whom she recognized, were with him.

  “Mama?” she gasped as her mother and Ariana sat huddled in the corner. She embraced them with utter relief. “You are better?”

  Mama touched her hand firmly. “Well enough, my dear. Did you find you
r father?”

  Alys sucked in a breath as her eyes began to glisten. She nodded and held a handkerchief to her mouth. “He…was injured.”

  Her mother’s body tensed, but she kept her composure. Silence hung between them as Mama staggered to her seat. Ariana wrapped her arm around her mother. Pushing back the sob which threatened to surface, Alys focused on the men at hand, only too aware of their audience.

  Cabal stood and clapped Niall’s back in a manly embrace. “Thank the Lord,” he said and sat before they drew too much attention. “We have waited here daily hoping you would show up, eventually.”

  Alys sat next to Niall, and the men acknowledged her presence with a nod.

  “Did you...?” Cabal stopped at the sight of the wrapped sword that Alys held on to tightly. He let out a whistle.

  Niall cleared his throat. “We need to assemble the council. What news have you?”

  “All Shieldok rulers are gone, for there was trouble at Lindeshelm, and the brothers are fighting over rulership at Cynehofa. Bordan was last seen at Castraholm.”

  Alys sat straighter. “We are free to return home?”

  “Nay. Shieldoks still patrol the area, although Rivalyn soldiers can come and go as they please. Just as long as we keep a low profile, and do as we’re told, they do not yet see us as a threat.”

  “And the council?”

  Cabal glanced around the room and lowered his voice. “Calipher awaits you at Ryvilla. He will assemble the others when he sees you.”

  Alys frowned. “But you said I cannot return...”

  “You will have to go incognito so as not to alert the Shieldoks. I have a spare Rivalyn uniform...”

  Alys’s heart beat faster. “Then we must leave at once.” She turned to her mother, her face pale and eyes glazed over. “Will you be well enough here?”

  Mama nodded silently.

  Alys swallowed and gestured to Ariana. They went behind the tavern for privacy, and her maid aided Alys in putting on the palace uniform.

  “It’s up to you know, Ariana, to watch over Mama in my absence.”

  Her maid squeezed her hand. “Aye, my lady.”

  It did not take them too long to reach the gates, and, quite remarkably, she stormed through the entrance without trouble.

  Catching the eye of a Shieldok soldier, she averted her gaze. She might wear the attire of a man, but she moved like a woman, and anyone giving her the slightest bit of attention would soon discover that.

  “Where is Calipher?” she whispered.

  “The chapel.”

  Her pulse quickened as they marched through Ryvilla. At the sight of her old tutor, she ran, flinging her arms around his shoulders and drawing him into an embrace.

  Calipher seemed startled at first, but his expression softened once Alys took off her helmet.

  Alys couldn’t contain her excitement and withdrew the large sword from her person.

  “You found it, child?”

  She nodded, her hands trembling as she uncovered the artefact, and it gleamed in the darkness.

  “Praise the Almighty,” he exclaimed. He motioned for her to give it to him. “May I?”

  “Of course.”

  He held it up to the light and read the inscription around the pommel. “Where?”

  “The Baedu Ruins.”

  His eyes grew larger. “’Tis dangerous there—no one dare venture toward the ruins.” He chuckled. “And therefore, the perfect place for it. My sister was a wise woman.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Alys saw Niall tense. Too fixated on showing Calipher, she neglected to pay heed to her surroundings. Alarmed, her head jerked around the chapel. The doors had closed. Guards stood at the two entrances; their spears positioned together so no one could pass. She turned back to Calipher, and her face fell. He showed no desire to return her sword at all.

  “Calipher?”

  “I am sorry, Alys. The deception was necessary to retrieve the sword. I searched for it for years, but to no avail. In the end, I knew only you could find it.” He looked to the guards. “Seize them.”

  Alys’s mouth dropped open. The shock was overwhelming. “Stop,” she instructed the soldiers. “I am your ruler—you have no right—”

  “On the contrary, child. As Aloedia’s brother, I am the next heir to the throne, and now that I have the sword...”

  She shook her head, willing the words to come. “You-you took a vow. You relinquished your right to the crown the moment you joined the Order.”

  “If I had gone willingly, then aye, you would be correct, but they gave me no choice. I was sent me to the monastery when I was too young to object.” His eyes turned cold. “This kingdom is at the brink of destruction. Aloedia did this. This is what happens when you let a woman rule. Now, I am Rivalyn’s only hope. The only way to defeat the Shieldoks is to make them our allies. I have struck a deal—well someone had to.”

  She snorted. “We cannot negotiate with pagans.”

  He nodded. “Which is why you are not the queen.”

  The guards took her and Niall by force, and they were flung into the cellars.

  “The praefect is dead. I am the only true heir of Rivalyn, and you all know it.” Calipher stared at the meagre council, all aged since he last saw them. Sacrificing almost a score of his life had been worth it. They squirmed in their seats like he hoped they would. That would teach them for sending him to the monastery.

  He held the Sacred Sword like the sceptre it was and meandered among them.

  “Now that I possess the sword, it is proof to you all, that I am God’s anointed.”

  “And what of Lady Alys?”

  “Dead also,” he lied.

  Several gasps sounded around the chamber.

  Banber poked his finger toward him. “You are Aloedia’s younger brother—you never had a birth right, regardless of whether you entered the Order.”

  “But I have the sword. Isn’t that what you declared when Druce brought Alys before you?”

  Banber fidgeted with his sleeves. “You think you can just charge in here and take over? We have already received word of an uprising at Castraholm. Lord Reginald is slain.”

  Calipher gripped the sword tighter but kept his cool. Years of pretence with Druce and Alys had given him much practice.

  “Anoint me as your king, and I will have enough power to stand against the pagans.”

  Another ealdorman, whom he did not recognize, stood. “The kingdom is divided, and there is talk of a rebellion. How can you be the one to bring us all together? You are the cause of our fall.”

  He had enough. Time these men learned the power of the Sacred Sword. With one swift movement, he ran the weapon straight through the ealdorman. The man slithered to the ground, and Calipher withdrew, wiping the blade on the corner of his tunic.

  “You will anoint me as your king, in the public square, at noon tomorrow.”

  Satisfied, he left the chamber, nodding to the guards to ensure they didn’t cause any trouble.

  The commander met him in the corridor.

  Calipher glanced sideways, frustrated. “My former ealdorman has just informed me of an uprising.” He raised an eyebrow at the man, in anticipation.

  “We have only just heard, my lord.”

  He jerked his head. “Reginald is truly slain?”

  The commander nodded.

  Calipher sighed. Another useful ally dead. “And Bordan?”

  The commander cleared his throat. “It is feared that he escaped to Cynehofa.”

  Calipher exhaled. He was unsure of the Shieldok’s allegiance. All the more reason to gain full control of the Rivalyn soldiers. He’d not win their hearts over as Alys had, but fear was a powerful weapon and it was time to show them what happened to soldiers who defected.

  “Bring me Niall.”

  Alys coughed as her chest spasmed once more. Their cell was so cold and damp. They’d been in there for days, given only water to drink, and her body grew weak. She lacked even the energy
to turn over. Would Calipher keep them imprisoned forever?

  Her prayers had turned from long, passionate pleas down to three simple words.

  God help us.

  She’d lost everything. Even Aloedia’s armour had been taken from her. She opened her eyes enough to see Niall’s faint silhouette, and she could hear his shallow breathing. Nay. Not all was lost. After all, she could have been alone throughout all this.

  “You never told me he was your uncle,” said Niall as he fidgeted in the chains.

  Her eyes fluttered. “I didn’t know I was the queen’s daughter until a few months ago, so I’d never thought of him in that way. He was my mentor. I knew Calipher to be Aloedia’s brother, but he took the oath before I was born. He gave up his legal right to it all when he swore to relinquish everything unto the Almighty.” She swallowed, “That is, I thought he did, but if he didn’t mean the promise he made, if he was coerced into doing so, does the vow even count? Mayhap he holds a rightful claim...”

  Niall turned slowly and held up his finger to her lips. “You found the sword. Your mother left the armour for you to follow. She hoped that you’d become the next ruler. I wonder...”

  Alys’s head jerked toward his. “What?”

  “Was sending him to the Order...mercy? Quaid, of all people, would know Calipher’s true nature. His behaviour, toward you, does not show he would be a righteous king. Who knows what happened such a long time ago. Sending someone to the Order is better than prison, and even death.” He paused. “But that doesn’t fit either, for Aloedia trusted him enough to give him your sword.”

  “Nay, that is where you are wrong. She gave the sword to her mentor, the previous guardian of the mountain. When he died, Calipher took his place.”

  “When did he die?”

  She shrugged. “Again, when I was little.”

  “But after your parents death?”

  Alys’s eyes widened. “You don’t think Calipher killed his predecessor, do you? For what purpose? To take my sword?” She shook her head. “He wouldn’t. Why, I’ve known him all my life. He trained me to fight. My father trusted him. I trusted him...” She stared at Niall. “How can he call himself a follower of Christ?”