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Princess Anna of Merceria: Second daughter and fourth child to Queen Elenor of Merceria. Third in line to the throne since the death of her brother, Prince Alfred.
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Sophie: Princess Anna’s personal maid and confident.
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Tempus: A large Kurathian Mastiff and loyal pet of Princess Anna.
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An enemy commander. A skilled tactician. Only one can be victorious.
The Norland raiders are at it again. When the Baron of Bodden splits their defensive forces, Sergeant Gerald Matheson thinks that today is a day like any other, but then something is different. At the last moment, Gerald recognizes the warning signs, but they are outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and out of luck. How can they win this unbeatable battle?
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If you like intense battle scenes and unexpected plot twists, then you will love Paul J Bennett's tale of a soldier who thinks outside the box.
Heart of the Crown: Chapter 1
Alric
Spring 960 MC
The dancers moved in harmony across the floor, their slow, measured steps carried out in perfect unison. They were ablaze with colour, for the noble lords and ladies of the Kingdom of Weldwyn vied to outdo each other with their finery.
Alric was not impressed. He sat, watching their movements, bored with the majesty of it, his young mind filled rather with thoughts of combat and glory. His musings were rudely interrupted.
"Alric, did you hear me?"
He glanced up to see the face of his mother, Queen Igraine, looming down on him in disapproval.
"Sorry, Mother," he answered.
"Don't sorry me, we have guests to attend to. I know you're young, but you're still a prince, and you have responsibilities."
"To do what? Dance with the young ladies?"
His mother's frown grew increasingly intense, and he knew he had overstepped. "Sorry, Mother, it's just that they're all so..."
"So what?" she pressed.
"Sycophantic?"
"Well, what do you expect? You're fifteen, Alric. Your brothers were both engaged by your age."
"That's not fair, Mother. Alstan is the heir, he had no choice, and you picked out Cuthbert's wife when he was only six." He watched her face soften but knew what was about to come.
"I'm sorry, Alric," she said. "I know it's a burden, but we are royals, we have responsibilities."
"And what, exactly, are my responsibilities?"
"We will have to see," she said, avoiding the answer, as always. "Now, let's get you onto the dance floor, shall we? You have an impression to make."
He knew he was defeated, as always, but he could never stay upset with his mother for long. Rising to his feet, he straightened his tunic and was about to step onto the dance floor when the music stopped, the melody complete. He glanced about desperately, anything to avoid the attention of Lady Julianne, who was now walking toward him. His eyes rested on his oldest brother, and he moved toward the eldest prince with purpose. Lady Julianne tried to talk to him, but he pretended not to hear and strode past, ignoring her entirely.
"Alstan," he called out.
Prince Alstan was standing in a small knot of people and turned upon hearing his name. His face lit up. "Alric? What is it?"
The young prince had kept walking until he was directly in front of his brother, but now words failed him. He had been so eager to avoid the attention of the young lady that he had stumbled into what perhaps might be an even more embarrassing moment. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Julianne bearing down on him, and he felt a moment of panic.
"Court," he blurted out, "something about the court."
Alstan knit his brows, "I'm surprised you heard about that. I didn't think you had an interest in such things."
Now that Alric was part of the conversation, he dove in, desperate to avoid the unpleasant encounter he had run from. "I was quite fascinated," he said, trying to sound like he knew what he was talking about. "Tell me more."
Alstan pursed his lips, and Alric knew he recognized his bluff. Luckily, his brother also knew not to embarrass his family in a public place, but that didn't mean he wouldn't have fun with it.
"He's coming back tomorrow," Alstan said at last. "You should come by and see how Father deals with him."
Alric had no clue what his brother was talking about but felt trapped. "What was the fellow's name again?" he asked.
Alstan smiled, "Lord Garig of Eastwood."
"From Mercenaria?"
Alstan leaned in close to whisper, "I've told you before, Alric, they call themselves Merceria now, have done for centuries. If you had spent as much time with your books as your sword, you'd know that."
Alric blushed. "Of course," he said, "but why would a Mercerian noble come to our court?"
"He wants to raise a rebellion against his king."
Alric snorted, "Father won't go for that."
"True," said Alstan, "but Father is wise enough not to dismiss him out of hand. He told him to come back tomorrow. He wants to hear his story in private."
"And by private, you mean..."
"With his advisors, of course, the usual bunch."
"So you, as his heir, will be there."
"Precisely," said Alstan, a smile crossing his face, "but I think you should be there too. It'll do you good."
Alric was not sure it would be a positive experience, but he had buried himself in his rush to avoid the young lady, and now he was committed.
"Besides," said Alstan, interrupting his thoughts, "Lord Weldridge will be there."
Alric's eyes lit up, "Uncle Edwin?"
"Yes, and I believe he just might have a seat for you at the tourney."
Alric smiled; a day at the jousts was just what he needed. He heard soft footsteps approaching from behind, but now his mood was joyous at the thought of tomorrow's activities. He wheeled about suddenly to face a startled Lady Julianne.
"Lady Julianne," he said, bowing deeply, "what a pleasant surprise. May I have the honour of this dance?"
He took her hand as she looked on in surprise, and led her to the dance floor; Uncle Edwin always said it was best to take the bull by the horns.
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King Leofric of Weldwyn sat on a chair at the head of the table as Alric and Alstan entered. The king's eyebrows rose when he saw his youngest son.
"Alric? Are you ill?"
It was Alstan who spoke up, "No, Father, I thought he might benefit by coming. Shall I send him away?"
"No," responded the king, "it's good he's here. He'll give me another perspective. Come and sit beside me," he said, indicating the seats to his left. "Lord Weldridge will be here shortly, and then we'll let our visitor in."
They sat down and waited while the servants brought wine. Before they could pour, the king interrupted them, "I'll do that. Leave us."
After the servants left, Leofric turned to his sons, "Listen, but don't interrupt. You may ask questions if you like, but don't accuse and don't comment. We'll feel him out, see what he really wants."
Alric thought the whole affair was probably going to be a waste of time but nodded his head dutifully. The door opened to admit Lord Weld
ridge.
"Edwin," said the king, "good of you to come."
"Thank you, Sire, it was gracious of you to invite me. And what do we have here, do my eyes deceive me? Two Princes of the Realm?"
Alric blushed. It was all an act, he knew, and yet he was always glad to see his lordship. Lord Edwin Weldridge was not related by blood, but he may as well have been. He was the lifetime friend of the king, and to the rest of the family, he was simply Uncle Edwin, except, of course, at official functions.
"To what," Edwin said, glancing at the two young men, "do I owe the pleasure of such grand company?"
King Leofric spoke, "Alstan thought it might do Alric some good, learning the ways of court and such."
"Hmm," said Lord Weldridge, "I suspect it's a bit more than that, but perhaps that's a discussion for another day." He looked to the king, "What do we know of this fellow we're about to see?"
Other than his mother, Alric had only ever seen Uncle Edwin talk so informally to the king.
"The fellow who's coming to see us is a noble from Merceria."
"Merceria, you say? Anyone I might have heard of?"
"I doubt it; a man named Lord Garig. He's a minor noble, but he comes representing the Earl of Eastwood. What do you know of this earl?"
Weldridge pursed his lips as he often did when thinking. "I believe he's a very powerful man, Leofric, perhaps one of the most powerful men in their kingdom. We'd best listen carefully to what his representative has to say rather than dismiss him out of turn. Are we sure this isn't some type of trick?"
The king smiled, "I knew you'd say something like that. I've had the Steward of the Heralds check his documents. The seals are legitimate, as far as we can tell."
"Well then," said Weldridge, "let's get the man in here and see what he has to say."
King Leofric called out the order, and the door swung open, revealing a middle-aged man with a plump belly and a shortage of hair atop of his head. He stepped forward, bending his knee as he bowed.
"Your Majesty," he said, "I bring you greetings from the Earl of Eastwood."
"Please, Lord Garig, arise. Come, sit down, have some wine. We have plenty of time to discuss matters."
The man took a seat at the end of the table while servants rushed in to provide him with wine. Alric noticed that the maid, Lerna, was serving; the Royal Family had trusted her for years. She would remain during the discussion to look after them, and her excellent memory could be counted on for an accurate account of the dealings.
"Now, Lord, tell us what has brought you to our court," encouraged Lord Weldridge.
The Mercerian took a small sip of wine. "Thank you, Lord. I have the esteemed pleasure to offer you the chance to deal with a... let's say, problem, that has been plaguing your border for years." The man looked at the faces around him as he spoke, trying to draw them into his speech.
"What problem might that be?" asked Alric.
"Yes, please," said the king, "do explain, my youngest son is not familiar with the politics of Merceria."
Lord Garig smiled and nodded at Alric. To Alric's mind, the man looked like a serpent preparing to strike, but he sat still and listened, heeding his father's earlier words.
"There has oft been trouble between Merceria and Westland," the man started.
"Westland?" asked Alric.
Alstan leaned close to him and whispered, "That's what they call Weldwyn."
"Why Westland?" asked Alric, still confused.
"Think about it for a moment, Alric. Honestly, sometimes you can be as thick as a post."
The king's glare quieted the elder brother. Alric, finally understanding the name, nodded to himself, pleased with his conclusion.
Lord Garig, who had waited while the two brothers were whispering, now continued, "As I was saying, there has oft been trouble between our two kingdoms and it is known that the court of... Weldwyn would prefer to have a friendly neighbour. The Earl of Eastwood is proposing just such an arrangement."
"I see," contemplated the king, "and what would the earl want in return for this friendship?"
The man took a sip of his wine. Alric watched him closely, realizing he was trying to build courage for his next statement.
"His Lordship would wish you to support his claim to the throne."
There was silence at the table as the words sank in.
"I was not aware," said the king at last, "that the position of King of Merceria was available."
"Strictly speaking, it is not," agreed Lord Garig, "but King Andred is unpopular, and the people demand someone more... reasonable."
King Leofric nodded in understanding, "I see. Please tell me Lord Garig, what sort of support would the earl require?"
"Troops, Your Majesty, to ensure a... smooth transition of power."
Alric observed the neck muscles tightening on his father's throat; this suddenly had become very interesting.
"Let me get this straight," King Leofric clarified, "you would like us to send soldiers into Merceria to support the earl's bid for power. Is that correct?"
Lord Garig sat back, and Alric recognized an obvious look of triumph on the man's face. Little did he know what was about to happen.
"Precisely," the visitor agreed.
King Leofric looked to Lord Weldridge and raised his eyebrows. Uncle Edwin looked back, and as their eyes met, the king simply nodded, ever so slightly.
"Tell me," said Lord Weldridge, "what do you think would happen if a foreign army invaded Merceria?"
"Why, the people would flock to their side, my lord," said the Mercerian.
"I doubt it. Instead, they would unite in defense against a foreign invasion, and then both Merceria and Weldwyn would be embroiled in a war."
Alric watched his father as he stood, looking squarely at the man.
"I will not support this endeavour," he stated. "Weldwyn and Merceria have never been friends, but to act against your lawful king is treason, and I will have no part of it. You will leave our kingdom immediately."
The man opened his mouth to speak, but Lord Weldridge stood alongside King Leofric, "I think it's time you left. Alstan? Alric? Perhaps you would escort his lordship from the chambers?"
Alric sprang from his seat at the unexpected mention of his name. So taken by surprise was he that he banged his knee on the table as he stood. He tried to be stoic and ignore the pain, following his brother, only to limp as he went.
Lord Garig, for his part, kept calm, leaving the chamber to meet his own retinue outside.
Alric and Alstan watched the man depart; no doubt he would cause trouble elsewhere, but his time in Weldwyn was done.
Continue Heart of the Crown
Dedication
For my daughters, Christie, Stephanie and Amanda.
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May you always level up with ease.
Also by Paul J Bennett
Servant of the Crown, Heir to the Crown: Book One
After tragedy changes the course of his life, he servers as a soldier for years, when a single act of self-sacrifice thrusts his future into the world of politics.
Banished with little more than the clothes on his back, he seeks a new purpose, for what is a warrior who has nothing left to fight for? A fateful meeting with another lost soul unmasks a shocking secret, compelling him to take up the mantle of guardian. Bandits, the Black Hand, and even the king, he battles them all for the future of the realm.
If you like gritty fight scenes, realistic characters, and well-crafted worlds, then you will love this tale of a warrior who refuses to retreat.
Start Servant of the Crown Now
Sword of the Crown, Heir to the Crown: Book Two
When an invading army crosses the Mercerian border, the only thing standing between victory and defeat is an heir to the crown with no battle experience.
Enter Dame Beverly Fitzwilliam, who has trained for this moment since she first held a sword. Her destiny will be determined in a monumental clash of forces where success can
save the kingdom, but failure can only mean certain death.
If you like epic battle scenes, dangerous enemies and mysterious prophecies, then you will love this tale of a knight who will not submit.
Start Sword of the Crown Now
Heart of the Crown, Heir to the Crown: Book Three
For as long as he can remember, Alric dreamed of being a hero; of defeating a dragon and saving the princess, but his royal position would never allow it, until…
The arrival of the Mercerian Emissaries demands a princely escort, and his tranquil life is upended from the beginning, as havoc follows these dignitaries everywhere. From fighting unknown creatures to defending the life of a royal, he discovers that becoming a hero is much more dangerous than he ever imagined. No matter what the outcome, his life will never be the same.
If you like contests of skill, courtly intrigue and diplomatic disasters, then you will love this tale of a prince who desires greatness.
Start Heart of the Crown Now
A few words from Paul
The Heir to the Crown series is taking on a life of its own. The world has its own history and even events long in the past have had an effect on the story. The characters have extensive backgrounds, and I wanted to share some of these tales without detracting from the main storyline. I have collected an assortment here, in Mercerian Tales: Stories of the Past. Some of these stories answer questions, like why Albreda helped relieve the siege of Bodden. Others offer insight into the motivations and history of secondary characters, like Dame Hayley. If you are waiting for Heir to the Crown: Book 3, Heart of the Crown, fear not, it is being written even as this book goes to press. In addition, Book 4 also exists in outline form, and I will begin writing it shortly.
Mercerian Tales Page 21