by G L Roberts
“So, we have a queen on the council now,” Malcolm said. “We have four princes, one lady, one princess, a druid warrior, and a queen.”
Kenna chuckled. “Sounds like the making of a great council for this island. We already represent so many with our nine. The four princes? We have Northumbria to the Northeast, the Epidii to the Northwest, the Umbriel Forest to the Southeast and Wessex to the Southwest.”
“And our druid warrior from the island of Erui brings many clanns with her,” Lothan said.
“We have our Pict Princess from the far north and a queen from the middle of the island,” Leus said.
“And Bryn?” Rythale asked. “Where do we place her? And how do we think of her?”
“As something unique and special,” Kenna said. “I have no word for what she should be, though I often feel she is something eternal.”
Arryn walked over to the group just as Kenna spoke. He placed his hand on her arm. “She is the Heart of Alban, and she is this island.”
❦
Bryn and Thalynder held hands as they walked out to the Dragon Garden at the back of the keep. The sun had set and the moon, though high in the sky, was covered with thick dark clouds. The air was chilly, and each woman was wrapped in heavy cloaks. As they passed under the linden arch leading to the inner garden, Bryn paused to look at the trees forming the arch.
“I used to think everyone could hear the trees speaking,” she said. “It was not until I learned none of the dragon riders actually spoke to their dragons did I realized I was the only one who heard such things as trees and brooks, dragons and sea turtles speak. It is now, as it was then, a sadness which sometimes weighs heavy on my heart.”
“You should not feel it as a sense of sadness. You should consider it to be a gift. Share it with the rest of us, and we will feel the joy of the gift in you.”
“Does it not set me outside the circle?”
“Why would it?” Thalynder asked.
“Can you look at me and not see the jewel blazing or the notice the trees reach out to be touched or find shells and sea creatures gathering at my feet. Can you see these things and not think I do not belong to the rest of the people in this world?”
Thalynder held Bryn’s hand to her heart. “Your heart beats as mine does,” she said. “You breathe in and out as I do. You can be hurt, you can die. You are not so different from the rest of the people in this world.”
Bryn leaned in and gently kissed Thalynder’s cheek. “Yes, my Lynder,” she said.
Thalynder smiled at Bryn. She reached up and moved a lock of hair from Bryn’s brow. “As for the other things—so long as you do not blaze that jewel to blind us, encourage those trees to bar us, or convince those shells and sea creatures to hide from us, I think we can put up with your differences.”
Bryn squeezed Thalynder’s hand. “That crown suits you.”
“No, it does not,” Thalynder said. “But I will allow you, and only you, to say so. I wear this because you need this realm. You need my help to keep these lands moving toward the unity the peoples of this island need and deserve. You are the one to wear the crown.”
“And we will speak of this with the others of the council. For now, let us say goodnight to our dragons. Sleep beckons, and tomorrow is a day of new beginnings.”
“You will need a title.”
Bryn frowned. “A title? Why?”
“To separate you from the rest of us in the leadership, of course. To unite under one banner means a leader set above all others to hold the banner.”
Bryn shook her head. “I do not like it, though I suppose you are right. As a council, we will decide.”
Thalynder moved out from under the arch still holding Bryn’s hand. With her free hand, Bryn reached out and caressed the bark of the tree on her left. She felt the tingle of life coming from the tree and allowed it to pass through her to Thalynder.
Thalynder turned to look back at the tree. “Has it always felt like this?”
Bryn smiled. “It has all my life. I am so glad I can share this with you now.”
Meydra lay quietly in the grass and listened to the two women. She heard the sadness in Bryn’s voice when they first approached the arch. Meydra wished she could take the pain from Bryn. Too many times in the past had she wanted to fly Bryn away from all the hurt. She understood there would be more times than could be counted when Bryn would face a world of despair and sadness. With each time, Meydra hoped she would be there to wrap her wings around Bryn and hold her while she wept. To give her strength to continue when all was dark, and sorrow felt like a dagger, was Meydra’s sincerest hope. To not be able to bring Bryn back into the light, was her deepest fear.
Arryn walked along the parapet of the tallest tower in the Keep. It was here he learned the art of weapons. It was in this Keep he was given the charge of teaching and mentoring two young girls; one a princess and one a druid handmaiden. Two girls, grown before his eyes and his command now was the protection of a Queen and a shieldmaiden.
“No longer a shieldmaiden,” he mused aloud, “something else entirely.” He looked out towards the Dragon Garden and watched as Bryn and Thalynder walked hand and hand back toward the Keep. “They have slept together in the garden,” he said. “How many nights together in the garden will they have?” Arryn turned away from the view and headed back down the stair. Today the council would meet with the Elf-Sisters and the rulers of the kingdoms who had attended Thalynder’s coronation. Today would be a day of decisions. Where to hold the Council was foremost on his mind. “It must be somewhere safe,” he muttered on the stair.
“My thoughts exactly,” Malcolm said. He stood at the bottom of the stair and had waited for Arryn’s return. “Why not here in the center of the island?”
Arryn smiled at Malcolm. “Spoken like a future King. It is a good idea as far as accessibility to the masses is concerned. Though it may be a bit too central to be safe.”
Malcolm laughed. “And spoken like a Captain of Armies. True, it is central and therefore, approachable from all sides. It would be difficult to protect.”
“We will need access to the sea as well.” Arryn stepped out into the inner courtyard of the Keep. “I expect Bryn will want boats made like those of the vík ingr.”
“An armada would serve the South well if the rumor is true about the Gallians.”
Arryn nodded. “The Gauls will be interested in the dragons once they get wind of the Heardred’s death. We will need more than just an armada. Come, we meet the others in the dining hall before convening the council. Hungry?”
Malcolm patted Arryn on the shoulder. “I am always hungry.”
The dining hall was filled with the gentry who had traveled to the realm for the coronation. They gathered in groups and talked about the crowning of the queen. Now and then, someone would bring up the victory on the West coast, which took the life of the king. There was mention of the woman who led the vík ingr and whether she would return to Alban. There was talk about rumors of invaders from other countries. There was even talk about allowing additional vík ingr to come live on Alban to help build a stronger army. All this talk was done by hushed voices unsure of the future in between bites of fresh fruit, warm bread, and plenty of mead.
Arryn and Malcolm walked into the dining hall, and those in the immediate area stopped talking until they passed. Arryn looked at Malcolm. “This is new,” he said.
“It is. I would expect it if, say, the queen walked in. For them to stop when we enter is both unlooked-for and disturbing.”
“Agreed. Perhaps it is the jewel flashing above your armband,” Arryn said.
Malcolm chuckled. “Or the one on your wrist?”
Arryn laughed. His laughter caught some people by surprise, but the effect was what Arryn hoped for. Those around him visibly relaxed. The talk grew louder, and soon, the room was lighter. The dark spell of what if was broken for the moment. “A sure way to break the ice is to laugh at oneself.”
“Indeed,”
Malcolm said. “Why is it that there is never any meat on this table?”
“Because meat is something to be eaten only at the last meal,” Kenna said from behind Malcolm.
“Sounds like something a druid would say,” Malcolm replied, “good morning, Lady Kenna.”
“Good morning, Prince Malcolm. Good morning, Prince Arryn.”
“Lady Kenna, with as many non-druids as there are druids on the council, perhaps we will see a change in our morning fare.”
“I doubt it,” Leus said as he walked up to the three others. “The Picts and Elves also do not eat meat before midday, Prince Malcolm. That would make the count five to four who abstain from meat in the morning.”
“You forget,” Conri said, and he and Cinnia walked up to the group. Conri smiled at Leus. “My daughter was raised with the Ulaidi clann, but she is a druid daughter and grew up in the house of an Elf-Sister.”
“Ah, six to three!” Leus said. “I would venture to guess that meat may never be on the morning menu.”
“You would guess wrong,” Lothan laughed. “Venture to my home, and you will have roasted goat on the morning table right next to the salted fish.”
Malcolm laughed. “Enough! I am now as a man starved by days of endless foot travel. Lead me to a plate and a mug, and I will try to sate this hunger.”
The group laughed and started for the food. At the entrance to the hall, Bryn watched the little scene with her friends and inwardly smiled. Seeing them together and in good spirits was beneficial to the people gathered in the room. In her heart, she was pleased. Her mind, though, raced with the need to collect the council and leave the Keep. There was still so much to do before the winter rain and snow kept them indoors. She took a deep breath and tried to relax. Behind her, she heard the courtesies being paid Thalynder as she approached the dining hall. Bryn turned to see Thalynder. They caught each other’s eye, and they both smiled. Thalynder held out her hand, and Bryn took it willingly.
“Where is our council?” Thalynder asked as she stepped closer to Bryn.
“Arryn and Malcolm are at the food table. Kenna, Lothan, and Leus are already seated at your dining table. Cinnia and her father, Conri, are standing at the dining table speaking with Lady Adhar. I have yet to see Rythale.”
“Do you think she feels oddly out of place?”
Bryn smiled “No, I believe there is something else detaining her. Rythale is proud of her tattoos. She would only feel out of place if she were not painted.”
“Good, as I will brook no prejudice in this hall,” Thalynder said.
“You sound like your father.”
“I am glad. I had hoped my father's honesty and sense of fairness had rubbed off on me.”
Bryn patted Thalynder’s arm. “It has. Look, there stands our Rythale.” Bryn pointed to an entrance on the far wall.
Standing at the entrance to the kitchens was Rythale. She wore a dark green dress with light brown embroidery at the hem. Her hair was tied back and braided with bright green ribbons. The tattoos she bore proudly enhanced her look, and the backlight of the candles in the hallway captured and reflected in the gem at her right shoulder.
“My, how beautiful she is,” Thalynder said.
“Yes,” Bryn replied. “And I believe our Leus has noticed this as well.”
Thalynder looked over at the dining table. The others of the council were still in conversation or busy with their food, except for Leus. The elf was standing and looking at Rythale. His eyes fixed on hers. He held up his left hand and placed it over his heart. The gem in his armband glinted. Leus left the table and walked over to where Rythale waited. He took her hand in his and led her back across the room.
Bryn smiled, and the gems glowed brightly for a moment sending little sparks of light out toward the room. No one noticed but the two who bore the treasures, and of course, Bryn. Bryn lifted Thalynder’s hand to her lips and placed a soft kiss on her palm. “Come, let us join the others.”
❦
The meal was concluded, and the food tables were cleared. Tables were moved to the walls of the hall, and benches were moved to the center of the room. Bryn instructed the serving staff to place the seats in a semi-circle with one at the top facing the others. Waiting Ladies and Valets took leave of their royals before being ushered out of the hall. As the nobles and landed gentry left the room, the large wooden double doors were closed. Remaining were the Council of Alban, Rulers of kingdoms and realms, Heads of Clanns and the Elf-Sisters. The room grew quiet as those in the hall took a seat on a bench and waited.
Thalynder stood next to Bryn while the others sat and moved their attention forward. Thalynder nodded to Bryn and Bryn sat down on the one bench facing the others. Thalynder took a small step forward.
“I first wish to thank you all for attending my father’s funeral and my coronation. Good King Thamen would most assuredly have been overwhelmed by the presence of so many friends and countrymen.” Thalynder took another step forward. “The Council of Alban has asked to speak with all of you before they return to Bynack More to discuss the continued defense of our precious island. We here know now the strength and cunning of our Northern enemy, we will also deal with those who come from other countries across the seas. Many will wish to see our resolve tested. It is why the Council has asked for your time this morning.” Thalynder took the last step forward. “Lady Athebryn will now speak with you. Please give her the same courtesy you have shown me while she is here in The Realm That Touches Two Seas.” Thalynder started to turn and sit down when a voice from one of the rulers stopped her.
“Are we then to hail the Lady Athebryn as a ruler like the rest of us here in this room?”
Arryn tried to find the speaker, but at the moment, all eyes remained fixed on Thalynder.
Thalynder frowned. “Speaker, please stand.”
In the middle of the room, Prince Lludd stood up. Arryn’s hand went to the hilt of his sword. Malcolm started to stand, but Arryn shook his head.
“Prince Lludd of Wessex,” Thalynder said. “What exactly are you asking?”
“This room is filled with kings, queens, princes, and princesses. There are Clann heads and Captains of Armies. On the council itself, there are four princes and a queen. Lady Athebryn is a former waiting lady and shieldmaiden. We all know of her strengths. She is a tactician. A warrior and a brave and trusted friend.” Lludd raised his hand and swept the room with it. “Those of us gathered here, except for the Council of Alban, do not know how we should address the Lady Athebryn. Does she rule the council? Does she rule the clanns? Is she the future queen of all of Alban?” A small murmur moved around the room. Many had the same questions on their minds.
“Prince Lludd,” Thalynder started. “I can assure you the Lady Athebryn is all you say and more so.” She began to step further into the semi-circle when Bryn gently touched her arm.
“Your Highness if I may,” Bryn said. “I will address this issue.”
Thalynder nodded at Bryn. She turned and shot a glare toward Lludd, and he was visibly moved. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts.
Bryn waited for Thalynder to be seated. She gave the room a small smile. “Prince Lludd, second son of King Heli of Wessex, future King of East Anglia, friend to this council; you are regarded highly by all here. Your question is fair and valid. You will pardon the council members if they are a little unsure of your motive. Let me try to address your concern as I see it is the concern of many here.” Another murmur stirred the room.
Bryn removed her cloak and set it on the bench behind her. She touched her forehead where the jewel lay quiet and hidden from view. “Some of you have seen the jewel I bear when the need is great. Many of you have heard how I came by this jewel. All of you here know the Jewel legend.” Bryn took a step forward. As she did, the jewel appeared on her forehead. The tendrils of silver spread to her hair and a crown formed of the tendrils. A collective gasp rose in the room.
“The legend is no longer legend. It is
truth. How you, the rulers of the many lands, kingdoms, realms, and clanns, choose to interpret the truth is entirely up to you. I, for one, do not intend to rule anyone. I intend to lead when the need presents itself. I intend to counsel with no reservation as to who you are or where you are from. I intend to live as any of Alban’s people, with the hope peace will reign. The Council of Alban will continue to be the guiding force in the defense efforts of this island. Not just for the ruling classes, but for all of Alban. Should you, as rulers, decide to put your trust in the Council, then perhaps you may call me the head of the council. I am no queen. I am no supreme leader. I am no usurper of authority already in place.”
Lludd tilted his head and frowned at Bryn. “But surely with all we know you can do with this jewel, including command of the dragons, surely you should be a supreme leader.”
Arryn shot a hard glance back at Lludd. Malcolm stood quickly and faced his brother. “That is not the intention of this council, little brother. We do not wish to dethrone anyone here!”
“The Lady Athebryn has promised Queen Hansa of the Vík Ingr that she will visit Götaland,” Lludd replied. “Would we send any other than our head of state to speak for us as an island?” The murmur in the room grew louder. Shouts of ‘I agree’ came from all around the room. “I do not wish to concede my future crown to anyone other than the Jewel. I will govern my kingdom, but I will adhere to the wishes of my Sovereign. I will come when called. I will act when the need is great. This I pledge now.” Lludd removed his sword from its scabbard and bent a knee. He placed the tip of the sword on the ground in front of him and kissed the hilt. Lludd looked up at Bryn. “My sword belongs to Alban, my fealty to the Heart of Alban.”
The sound of rustling filled the room as ruler after ruler, kings, and queens, heads of clanns, captains of armies all knelt before Bryn. The Elf-Sisters knelt and bowed their heads.
Arryn stood and drew his sword. “For Alban and Athebryn!”
As one the room exploded, “For Alban and Athebryn!”