by D. E. Morris
The command made both men move though with reluctance on their faces. As they mounted their horses Wessely drew upon them and said, “Do not leave on my account.” Jaryn simply waved them away and turned back for his spot in the sand, fingers returning to the position they'd been in on the lute strings.
“My big accomplishment for the day,” said Wessely, “is finding the missing high king. I had forgotten how it is at high court - that the world ceases to turn when there is no one visibly on the throne.” Jaryn only gave a half-hearted smirk causing Wessely to frown and leave his horse with Jaryn's. “We have not known each other long in the grand scheme of things,” said Wessely, coming to join his son-in-law, “but I know it is not like you to mope.” The older man chose a large rock in the shade to perch on instead of the sand. “What is it that troubles you?”
Jaryn frowned. “I would hardly say I'm moping.”
“All right then. Pouting?”
“I just needed a few minutes alone is all, outside the castle walls and all of its trappings. I needed some time to be myself.”
“You mean your old self.” Jaryn said nothing in reply but stayed his fingers. When only the ambiance surrounded them for a few minutes, Wessely sighed thoughtfully. “If this is because of your disagreement with Ashlynn this morning-”
“It's not.” Jaryn's frowned deepened, his gaze still resting upon the rolling waves far out at sea. “At least, not entirely.” He lowered the lute to his lap. “I've been feeling out of place lately. Since we came back from Mirasean, I think. After the war, Siness was in a state of disrepair. Ashlynn and I were very hands on with the people to start, then once the pregnancy started to slow her down a bit she took on more of the politics while I continued helping out where I could. Yes, I was their high king but I was willing to help raise a barn, till a garden, haul sacks of grain. I got to talk to people on a level I was comfortable with.”
“On a personal level.”
“Exactly. I had no crown on my head, or fancy clothes, or a great chair that sat high so I could look down on everyone before me. I was one of them just as I had been all my life. I thought, 'This is it. This is why the Giver has me here, why He let me fall in love with Ashlynn and marry her. I can be a high king who is not so high. I can be reached.' But then I started to be needed less and less as Siness healed and grew closer to being restored. So I spent less time with the people and more time in the castle, and before I knew it I was the man with the clothes, and the crown, and the chair. I was learning politics and policies, signing my name to documents that changed people's lives for better or for worse, making decisions for people who couldn't make them for themselves. Then we went away for the wedding and when we came back I was swept up in it all again, only so much worse than before.”
“You had little choice,” Wessely offered kindly. “Ashlynn was not able to act or think as she always has.”
“I know. But what I'm saying is that somewhere along the way I lost who I was. I lost the man who was carefree and could quell Ashlynn's fears or her temper with a joke.” Jaryn cast Wessely a shameful glance. “We have fought more since returning from Mirasean than we have the entire time we've known each other.”
“Jaryn, listen to me.” Despite his court clothes and how hot they would make him under the sun, Wessely left his rock and sat in the sand beside Jaryn to give him a look of understanding. “In this life you will go through many transformations and there will be times when you are less than fond of the man you have become. It is then up to you to change that.”
“I want to be a good king, but I also want to be myself. Is that even possible?”
“I would like to say yes, but the two seem rather contradictory at times. Find the balance. I have faith that it is there.” Pausing, he pulled something out from under his jerkin and handed it to Jaryn. He met the younger man's questioning gaze with a nod of encouragement.
“A book?” Jaryn lifted the weathered leather cover and flipped through several aged pages, stopping only when he realized it was scripture. His look of confusion only deepened.
“It was my brother's. When the scriptures were first bound together he made sure one of those few copies was his.”
“He wrote in them!”
The exclamation made Wessely chuckle. “Aye. Nir was always a man who took notes and wrote down his thoughts. He marked each revelation he had about the Great Dragon, about the text in here. His prayers and more personal thoughts he kept in private journals, as most great kings do.”
Jaryn snorted quietly. “I must not be a great king then.”
“Not yet, but perhaps this will help set you on the road to becoming one.” Wessely looked at Jaryn with affection. “I know your love for the Giver is the strongest passion within you. For that reason, no matter what it may look like to you or anyone else, He will not fail you. I wanted you to have this so that you may continue to seek after Him, to let Nir help train you up in the way you never had opportunity to be trained up before. To that end I am also gifting both you and Ashlynn with his journals.”
“What?” Jaryn closed the scriptures and turned to the older man. “But they were your brother's.”
“There are other things of his that I have kept, as well as some things for Kenayde.”
“Won't she want these someday? Won't she need these?”
The question sent a shadow of sadness across Wessely's face. “As much as I have grown to like Elas and for all that he truly loves Kenayde and will do anything to make her happy, he is not fit for the throne, even in a kingdom as small as Oceana's. Ashlynn presented the thought of it to me before and I see the merit in her words now after being here. I watch the way she treats everyone, from servant to noble, with respect and fairness, yet manages to remain in control of most every situation.”
Jaryn nodded, pride on his face. “She was born for the part she plays.”
“None could argue it. Elas and Kenayde are meant for simpler lives. While I could not see them tucked away in a cottage somewhere – you know how Kenayde has an eye for the finer things – I know neither of them would be happy having the weight of a crown on their heads.”
“What will you do?”
Wessely let go of a labored sigh. “I will do as Ashlynn suggests and find a bride who can give me a child and release Kenayde and Elas to go where they will.”
With a wrinkled brow, Jaryn nodded. “I know that cannot be an easy decision for you.”
“I will never love another woman as I loved Emiline - still love her to this day - but neither can I sit alone day after day and let myself wither. She would not be proud of me for that.”
Hesitant, Jaryn said, “All of Ashlynn's ladies are of age to marry, though Zarra only just.”
This drew a quiet laugh from the older man. “Yes, so I have been told several times already. While Lilia is unarguably enchanting, it is clear she has strong affections for Jessiah. Should Ashlynn and Tasarin succeed in bringing him back here to Siness I do not see much time passing before they marry. Zarra is much too young and...how to put this kindly...lofty for me, and Mairead...”
“Looks like she could be your daughter's twin.”
“Precisely.”
The two men shared a chuckle and Jaryn shrugged. “You could always throw a masque to celebrate Kenayde's engagement. Send the invitation out wide, of course. That would be a good way to bring new faces to Oceana.”
“I do not know that my treasury could afford anything grand.”
Clapping Wessely on the shoulder, Jaryn grinned. “That's why it's always important to have friends in high places. Family in high places is even better.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Ashlynn had never minded being the center of attention. It wasn't a position she usually sought out, but neither was it a thing that made her shrink and shy away like it did Kenayde. She was well aware of the fact that there was a trail of curious people following her and Tasarin as they made their way up to the main gate of the outer wall of Lerranyt
h castle, yet she held her head high and paid them no mind. As intended, she was dressed in her finest court dress, a green and gold gown with long swooping sleeves and train to match, and a slim sash for the Stuart tartan tied around her waist to trail down the skirt of her gown. Her hair had been plaited and curled, pinned up to create a flattering place for her crown to rest, resulting in a twisted knot work of gold and jewels. She had never looked the part of a high queen more, and knew the attention she was commanding would aid her in getting inside the castle.
Beside her, Tasarin wore his usual flowing robes in tones of gray and silver, set apart only by the circlet that rested upon his brow.
“Had I known we were putting on a show,” he muttered, “I would have dressed accordingly.”
Ashlynn glanced at him with a smug half-smile as they approached the lowered portcullis. She felt naked without at least a horse beneath her or a guard at her back, but perhaps this, too, could be of aid to her. She looked at the men above, all well armored and watching her like a dog watches an approaching cat. Swallowing any doubt or fear she had of walking into territory that could turn out to be hostile, she called up to them.
“Tell your king that High Queen Ashlynn Stuart of Siness and High King Consort Tasarin Blackwood of Caedia stand at his gate and request an audience.”
“His Majesty already knows you're here.”
Both Ashlynn and Tasarin looked toward the sound of a voice and found a man on the other side of the grating. He was balding with salt and pepper hair, and small for his apparent age. He looked up to the guard controlling the gate and gave a short nod. Within moments the portcullis was lifting and the man stepped forward to greet them with a bow. “I am the High King Donnchadh's sheriff, Fintan.”
Ashlynn nodded. “A pleasure to meet you, Fintan. I believe my good friend Cailin is under your employ.”
“She is indeed.” His reply was bland and detached. He stepped aside as his hand swept inward as an invitation. “If you will follow me.” He didn't wait for acknowledgment but led the way through the streets of the castle's town. Here merchants shushed their shouting and men and women turned to stare. Fintan strode importantly through the crowds as whispers of the royal capital’s guests floated about in his wake. The great main doors were pulled open and when they shut behind Ashlynn and Tasarin, there was a certain feeling of being caged in.
“His Majesty is holding audience in his presence chambers. I will lead you to where the rest of the courtiers wait.”
Ashlynn slowed to a stop, fixing Fintan with a quizzical gaze when he turned at the lack of footsteps behind him. “Courtiers? You mean for us to stand in line with the courtiers?”
“Well, yes. That is where all of the other lords and ladies-”
“We are not another lord and lady and will not be treated as such.” Ashlynn's eyes flashed with anger. “If the high king is not yet ready to receive us then we will wait indeed, but it will be in a private room and not in a procession line like cattle waiting to be judged at the faire.”
Fintan's jaw worked as he struggled to watch his tongue. In a strained tone he relented, “Very well.” He turned down a different hallway and walked on with a faster gait than before. Tasarin and Ashlynn looked at each other, unease evident in both of them, before following after. When guards fell into step behind them, Tasarin moved just a bit closer to Ashlynn and half a step behind, ready for action should it come to it and ever her protector. But the guards, as it turned out, were simply there to intimidate and ultimately watch over them. The room they were led to was not all together large, though richly furnished with tapestries and plush couches.
“What room is this?” Ashlynn asked as they were shown inside.
“A private room,” said Fintan dispassionately, “as required. If there is nothing else I may get for Your Majesties...” He didn't give either of them the chance to say anything else. There was a quick nod to the two armored men signaling them to stand post as the doors closed, shutting Ashlynn and Tasarin off from anything outside the room.
“Well that was certainly a greeting.” Tasarin was already walking around, moving curtains and screens to look for any other possible means of entrance or exit. “It would appear you have overestimated the affection with which Donnchadh holds the memory of his alliance with your father.”
Ashlynn looked out the window to the bustling township below and muttered, “It would appear so.” She pushed on the glass so that it swung outward and let some fresh air in to remove some of the staleness of the room. “How dare that sheriff treat us as though we were common nobility here to beg for Donnchadh's attention.”
“Mind your anger,” Tasarin warned evenly. “Remember that we are here to fetch your young friend and gain as much information surrounding Nealie and Rowan as possible. If we meet Donnchadh with heated tempers and high demands, it will only set him against us.”
“That is why I am glad you're with me, Tasarin. You and your silver tongue can charm things out of the most hardened man.”
“You flatter me.” The elf circled back around to Ashlynn and peered down at the town as well. “Unless it is extremely well hidden there is only one way out of this room.”
“And of course it is guarded.”
“Of course.”
With a defeated sigh more befitting a girl half her age, Ashlynn sank onto the long bench beneath the window and frowned. “I hate waiting.”
“I know you do.”
She looked up at Tasarin with a scowl. “He's going to keep us in here as long as he can as punishment for my defiance against his sheriff. You know that, don't you?”
“That would not surprise me.”
“I only pray Jessiah is still alive.”
As she had been getting ready to leave Siness that morning, Ashlynn lamented the lack of time she would have with Tasarin, knowing he wanted to return to Caedia as soon as possible to be with Luella. It was hard not to smile at the irony of their situation. Now that they were being made to wait indefinitely, she wanted anything but time. In an effort to keep her impatience from rising too quickly she asked her old friend about life in Caedia, how different it was to sit on the throne there with a crown upon his head from his position as steward in Siness. They were both quite happy to talk of the future and their families, of possibilities and potentials. She considered telling him now about her dreams and the things she had seen, but decided to keep them to herself, if only for now. There was already too much on her mind and the last thing she wanted was to delve into the center of her fears with no option of leaving if she felt uncomfortable.
Conversation ran out before they were sent for.
When the door did finally open Tasarin was trying to talk Ashlynn out of using her fyre to try to find Jessiah on her own. They both turned from their tense conversation to a girl entering, and Ashlynn broke into a smile, rushing forward to take the girl in her arms.
“Cailin!”
“It is good to see you again, Your Majesty.” Cailin smiled and embraced Ashlynn tightly, but as they pulled away she glanced at the guards with meaning. Ashlynn waved it off.
“You are my friend and I refuse to greet you any other way.”
Cailin chuckled. “You always were a defiant one. May that never change.” Her smile dimmed. “I've been sent to bring you into the presence chambers.”
“It's about time.”
“Follow me.”
As they walked out into the hallway, Cailin ordered the guards away. Without any hesitation they turned on their heels and headed back down they way they'd come from several hours prior. It made Ashlynn's heart swell. She and Cailin had grown up together at Oceana, always the best of friends even though Cailin had been one of the servants. Ashlynn taught her to read in secret and told her she could be anything she wanted, that her status should not be the thing that defined her and told her what she was capable of. Now, years later, here she was as an important member of Ibayish court.
“I don't think I have ever seen y
ou hold your head so high,” Ashlynn remarked with pride. “Court life does you well, Cai.”
The younger woman smiled. “I am only here thanks to you. Were you not on my side I would still be a serving girl at Oceana. I owe you a great debt of thanks.”
“You owe me nothing and you know it.” Thinking, Ashlynn added, “Though I don't suppose I could talk to you into coming to Siness instead of staying here?”
Cailin answered with a small smile. “I love Ibays as you love Siness.”
Ashlynn shrugged. “You can't blame me for trying.”
“Indeed I cannot.”
They were nearing the presence room, the men stationed outside a sure indication. In a hasty, softer tone Ashlynn asked, “Is Jessiah still alive?”
“He is, though I've not seen him since he was brought to the dungeons.” Cailin frowned. “I can't imagine he's in the best shape given Donnchadh's temper.”
“He is alive,” said Tasarin softly. “That is all that matters.”
“Aye.”
As they approached, the guards pushed both heavy doors open so that there was no need for the procession to pause. Cailin led Ashlynn and Tasarin directly in and announced them before bowing and moving to the side of the room to her spot beside a waiting Sheriff Fintan.
Donnchadh sat on the only throne in the room, high tapestries of red and gold at his back forming a canopy above him. This room was similarly decorated in an effort to boast of fortunes Ashlynn knew the kingdom did not have. Even Donnchadh himself was dressed in fine court clothing of woven brocade and leather. With pride she saw him take notice of her dress and sit up a bit straighter in his chair. Out of propriety more than respect, Ashlynn and Tasarin dipped their heads in greeting.
“High King Donnchadh,” said Ashlynn with false warmth. “What a blessing it is to see you again and know that you are well.”
Donnchadh's red and gold mustache could not hide his smirk. “You as well, Your Majesty. Both of you. Forgive the lateness of my congratulations, Tasarin, for your recent elevation in Caedia and your wedding.”