The Wickshield spy cursed himself for his boldness. To slip into the banquet and sit down to listen had been so easy. Security in Glenfair was lax and no one seemed to regard, or pay him much mind until the two dukes slipped out quietly. He knew then he had been noticed so he casually left. He knew he had broken no laws, but he did not want to be questioned either. A fellow countryman had placed a horse strategically for the purpose of a quick getaway. He took the horse and headed east to find another Wickshield merchant, then hide in his wagon until they were safely through the pass north of the Rollins dukeship.
King Voganon and general Astmos were discussing the expansion of the Wickshield kingdom.
“We have pressed east, west, and north, your Majesty. There remains nothing for us to do but go south.”
“Yes,” King Voganon mused. “The barbarian kingdom of Sabatol grows stronger every year. If we do not conquer it soon, it may become too large and powerful for us to absorb.” General Astmos nodded, agreeing with the king’s assessment.
King Voganon pulled his dagger out handling it playfully and continued; “And what, general Astmos stands between us and the Sabatol kingdom of the south?”
“Glenfair, Sire.”
“The foul little kingdom of Glenfair!” Voganon yelled as he slammed the knife down into the table. General Astmos stood rigid looking at the quivering knife stuck in the table. He wanted to flee but dared not move.
“Do we have the resources to go around them?”
“I do not believe so, your Majesty. We are extended too thin right now. To transverse the mountains and badlands to the south-west would take us many months. By that time our resources would be exhausted.”
Voganon snarled, “I must have Glenfair. To get to the Sabatol kingdom through their passes would only take a week. Then I could make Glenfair the central focus of my kingdom and rule the north and south from that strategic location.”
“Is that the only reason you want Glenfair?” General Astmos asked apprehensively.
“Of course not!” Voganon snarled. “They laugh at our kingdom which is 100 times larger than theirs, knowing we cannot conquer them. Their passes have kept them safe as long as anyone can remember. I hate the arrogance of such a little kingdom. If I take Glenfair, the whole world will tremble before me!”
At that moment a messenger arrived with news that a spy wished to have an audience with the king.
“Send him in!” Voganon commanded.
The spy came and bowed before the king. “Your Majesty, I have penetrated the castle and banquet of Glenfair’s king and her lords.”
“Did you learn anything useful?”
“No, your Majesty, before I could learn anything significant they became suspicious of me and I fled back here to report.”
“You fool!” Voganon yelled. “You have only succeeded in alerting them we have spies in their land! Cut off his hand!”
General Astmos nodded to his men and they came forward and seized the spy. Before he could plead, a soldier drew his sword and carried out the king’s command. The spy fell to his knees holding his injured arm.
“I have changed my mind,” Voganon said. “Kill him!” The spy had time for only a pleading look before a sword was thrust through him, and he fell lifeless to the floor. General Astmos motioned to his men to take the body out. He felt safer now that the king’s wrath had been appeased.
Voganon was silent as the body was removed and then spoke.
“As I was saying general Astmos, I must have Glenfair!
Chapter 2
From Boy to Man
“How shall a young man order his ways? Follow thy heart and temper it with the laws of God for He will hold you accountable for all you do”
--The Wisdom of Fathers
Prince Raven Kallestor sat under a beautiful maple tree along the banks of Pearl Lake. He had black hair, brown eyes and just the beginnings of a trace of beard. He was of average size which hid the fact that he was extremely strong and athletic. In short, his average features are what made him attractive. The wind was hardly blowing and it was a bright sunny day. At times like these that he was so glad to live in this fair land. Behind him green plains stretched to the horizon with patches of wild flowers scattered in here and there as if the great Creator had stretched out an earthen quilt. On clear days like this Raven could barely glimpse the outlines of the distant cliffs and mountains that surrounded the kingdom of Glenfair. Just out of the shade of the large maple was a gooseberry bush with ripe berries, of which Raven had already eaten quite a few. South, grazed a heard of wild Tor. They were large creatures similar to an ox with three sharp horns, a very stout one in the middle between the eyes. This gave the beast a perpetual cross-eyed look, nothing elegant like a unicorn. One wouldn’t want to be in the way of a charging Tor because he could gore you from three different angles, unlike an ox which could only hook you from the side. The odd beasts had a low intelligence, and that made them easy game for hunters. For this reason the kings of long ago had prohibited the hunting of them in order to prevent their extinction. Only on special occasions like the king’s feasts could these creatures be hunted, then cooked on spits over an open pit of oak coals. The meat, when seasoned with the special spices of the south, rivaled any meat for taste, texture, and tenderness. That reminded Raven that he had failed to bring a lunch on this little outing he had hurriedly taken to escape some of the royal duties around the castle....
Edward rode out of the castle a little angry at having to search for his younger brother. That anger was fueled by the conversations he had been having with his father during the winter months. What they had witnessed in the Crestlaw castle last fall had been very troubling. To have Wickshield spies running loose in Glenfair was unsettling. But to suspect the northern dukeships of collaboration, was terrifying. An attempt to overthrow the throne would result in confusion or even battle. That would give the Wickshields the opportunity they sought to conquer their land. Edward had been required to take part in the royal councils, perform royal duties, and generally take care of the king’s business. He understood fully the implications of such a disaster. Raven, on the other hand, never considered these possibilities. Even though the king had informed Raven of the Wickshield spies, he did not seem to take it seriously. Maybe they should have told Raven everything they saw at the Crestlaw dukeship....
Raven’s deep revere for his surroundings was interrupted by someone calling his name. Again he heard someone calling, and this time he recognized the voice. At that same instant, a rider appeared over a knoll and rode in his direction. It was his older brother Edward with a little bit of a scowl and frown on his face. Edward was taller and larger than he, with the same dark hair, but with emerald green eyes and a thinner face ending in a finely trimmed goatee. The ladies of the kingdom found him quite handsome. Now whether that was just appearance or the fact that he was in line to be king was a matter of debate.
As he spied his younger brother Edward shouted; “There you are Raven! Are you hiding out to escape your royal duties?”
As Edward rode closer his anger began to soften. He knew that Raven’s lack of concern about the spies could be attributed to his age. He really did love his younger brother, and sometimes envied him for the freedom he had. But what really bothered him was Raven’s lack of living up to his potential. Edward could see greatness in the young man. Someday when I am king, he will be my closest advisor, Edward decided.
As he neared, Raven remarked at how serious Edward looked, “Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine, except for you, Raven. You know today is when we practice arms. Why did you take off?”
Raven looked at the ground, kicked a stone and said, “That's so boring. Ever since I turned 17 two years ago I have been practicing arms, and for what? We’re not at war!”
Raven stood defiantly, with arms crossed waiting for Edward to continue. Edward was calm now, and spoke in a very practical tone,
“Raven, father has told us about the Wickshield spies. He doesn’t want us to be easy pickings if there is war.”
“You mean he doesn't want you to be easy pickings. You’re the one in line to be king, remember, the oldest son thing.”
Edward closed his mouth and looked a little hurt, and Raven was immediately sorry he had been so sarcastic. “I’m only kidding, Edward. You’ll make a great king, and I really mean that.”
Edward furrowed his brow as he did when he was deep in thought and said to Raven, “Does it really bother you that I am the eldest and heir to the throne? Because if it does...”
Raven interrupted him before he could go on, “No, Edward. I look up to you and nothing could ever come between us. Besides I don’t like all the things you have to do when you’re king.”
“If you really mean that Raven, then consider this: There may come a time when you have to fight beside me to defend the kingdom. To help your king you must know arms. And by some chance of fate, if I were to die, you would be king, and a king must know arms.”
Raven looked up with a challenging look in his eye, “Protect you, I will, Edward. I would die for you. I hadn’t considered that part of arms training before.”
“Then jump up here behind me and we will go find Master Fields for our arms training.”
A new determination sprang up in Raven’s heart. He would protect Edward, and learn arms. He would be the best champion a king could ever have.
It was midday when they got back to the castle, and Master Fields was not looking too happy as they were dressing for arms training. Edward went through the exercises with a fluid and grace that always amazed Raven. While Master Fields directed and coached, Edward swung the huge broad sword, his favorite weapon, with speed and ease, never losing his balance. When practicing actual battle, none dared join swords with Prince Edward for he was too quick and strong. Only Master Fields would engage him, and then it always left the master huffing and puffing afterwards. During these battle exercises, Raven could see the king in Edward. What a leader in battle he would be. What a leader he was!
Deep in his thoughts Raven suddenly realized Master Fields was calling him, “Prince Raven, Prince Raven. Pay attention, lad. It’s your turn at arms.”
Calling him lad always ruffled Raven’s feathers. He was not a lad anymore; he was a young man, and today he was going to show Master Fields that fact. Raven was paying attention to the exercises but they just wouldn’t flow.
Even so Master Fields was encouraging, “Well, lad. What has gotten into you? You sure are putting a lot into your training today.”
Raven was sweating with the effort, thrusting and parrying, imaginary blocks and spins.
“Careful lad, don’t overwork your sword. Make it work for you. Don’t let it drag you off balance. Remember with every action there is a reaction. One mighty swing that may kill your enemy could leave you off balance and vulnerable to death yourself.”
After the exercises, Raven was feeling more confident, mature and daring. When he engaged Master Fields, he threw himself into practice battle like he had never done before.
He heard Master Fields mutter to himself. “What demon has placed a burr in the prince’s breeches today to get him moving so fiercely?”
Raven thought things were going well and, in fact, had gained ground on Master Fields when all of a sudden something hit him in the back of the head with such force that his helmet visor came down over his eyes as he crashed to the ground. He could only roll over on his back and flail his sword around and kick his feet in the air because he could not see a thing. He stopped and pulled his visor up and then he heard laughing.
He knew that laugh. He looked up on the porch balcony and saw Lorriel half bent over with an expression of partial pain on her face because of how hard she was laughing. His sister was always making jest at his expense. She was older than Raven having been born between Raven and Edward and always called him her little brother. Lorriel was beautiful with brown hair and lovely green eyes. Even now, ready to fall off the balcony laughing, she still looked beautiful.
He swung around on Master Fields, “That wasn’t fair, someone sneaking up behind me and clubbing me in the head.”
“Nothing is fair in war, lad. You have to be aware of your surroundings. You won’t usually be fighting only one person, you have to know what's behind you as well.” Edward came along side Raven but there was no laughter from him, just that same seriousness he possessed.
“Don’t worry about it, Raven. I had that same trick pulled on me once in training.”
“Why did you not warn me, Edward?” Raven said scowling.
And now there was a faint smile on Edward’s face, “Because little brother, you will remember this much more, just as I have never forgotten that lesson when it was pulled on me. Besides it would ruin all the fun for the rest of us.”
Now Master Fields spoke up, “Raven, you did quite well. You never dropped your sword, and you rolled over quickly and swung your sword in front of you, unlike your brother Edward who dropped his and lay sprawled out face down for awhile.”
That made Raven feel a little better, but just a little. Arms training was over for the day and dinner would be ready soon. Raven retired to wash and dress before dinner. He sat on the bed in his chamber and thought about what else could go wrong today. Not much, he mused, it was almost over.
Dinner began uneventfully until about halfway through when Mollen cleared his throat and instantly had everyone’s attention. He rarely spoke at dinner so this had to be something of importance.
“Edward,” he spoke, “tomorrow is the day for collecting the summer taxes from the southern two dukeships. You will visit my nobles as it is the custom for one of the royal house to receive these taxes and give a speech of appreciation for their support of the kingdom. Raven, you will not go with Edward. I have something else for you to do.”
Raven half rose from his chair in protest, but Mollen motioned for him to sit down. Raven did so slowly, the disappointment setting in, for collecting the tribute was like a holiday because the dukes threw a feast in honor of the royal attendance, a whole night’s celebration. Both of these traditions went back as far as anyone could remember. This was the second tribute collection in a row he would miss. This summer’s meeting was at the southwest dukeship of Bandon Prescott. This made it doubly hard for Raven. He had hoped to see and perhaps dance with Bandon’s daughter, Rebekka. He did not have an overly strong attraction to her, but liked her spirit of abandoning protocol at times to speak her mind. Now Raven looked at his father and asked, “Sire, what is it you would have me to do?” There were times to call him father and there were times to respect his office, and this was one of those times.
King Mollen looked at Lorriel and then spoke, “You will accompany your sister to Brickens’ falls. I promised her after the death of your mother that on this date she could visit the falls for a picnic like she used to do with her mother. She needs a protector and someone to keep her out of trouble. I have made arrangements for you to spend the night at the Crestlaw Dukeship, and I want to speak to you and Edward in my chamber after dinner.”
Raven was stunned, things kept getting worse as the day wore on. He did not dislike his sister, in fact, he loved her very much. She just treated him like he was her little brother, and he was a man now, not a boy!
That was the end of the conversation, and all Raven said was, “Yes, Sire.”
After dinner Edward and Raven stood before their father and awaited the private conversation. Raven always hated these because they were usually boring and instructional, kingdom stuff.
Mollen looked on both his sons and said, “I believe there may be a conspiracy in the kingdom. I want both of you to keep your eyes and ears open while you are with the dukes.”
“What are we looking for father?” Edward asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Anything that would be a threat to the throne. I’m no
t as young as I used to be, and soon you will be king, Edward. I want to make sure no one tries to take it from you.”
“Father,” Raven protested, “I don’t know of any threat. Everyone I know is loyal to the kingdom.”
“Ah, that is what bothers me,” Mollen spoke, “the kingdom is too quiet. There should be at least a little grumbling and discontent. Raven, especially you, keep a careful eye on the Crestlaws. They are becoming very powerful.”
Raven failed to understand the logic that a quiet kingdom leads to insurrection and rebellion, but he would do what his father asked. After Raven left, Edward stayed behind to speak further with the king.
“What is it, Edward?”
“Why have you not shared with Raven what we both saw last fall at the Crestlaw castle?”
Mollen sighed, “Raven is young and impressionable. I do not want him to see spies behind every tree. I have hinted of a conspiracy, that is enough to make him keenly observe. I want objective observation from him, no more. When he reports to us, we will decide if there is treason brewing.”
“You are a wise king,” Edward said as he bowed and then left.
Chapter 3
Really Falling
“Thou must ponder many mysteries, but one that shall elude thy brightest and arduous study is that of Love; from whence it comes when not looked for, and from whence it flees from those who desperately seek it.”
--Chronicles of the Ancients
Morning came early, too early, since Raven did not sleep well. The thought of insurrection and conspiracies kept him tossing and turning all night. When he walked down for breakfast he saw that Lorriel was already there and eager to depart. They finished breakfast without talking and mounted their horses with the provisions already tucked away by the royal staff. The sun was just coming up as they started north along the shores of Pearl Lake. There were no clouds in the sky, and the day was bright and beautiful, but Raven was not enjoying his surroundings. Instead, he was still brooding about missing the trip to the Prescott Dukeship. So they rode on in silence for some time, passing the beginning of Pearl Lake and riding north along the Halfstaff River.
The King's Folly Page 2