by James Dale
“I am Daen Haemon, my Lord,” the boy replied. “Chief Steward Haemon is my uncle on my father’s side.” The boy was perhaps fifteen or sixteen, maybe a little older, with storm grey eyes and an intelligent face. He was also not the least bit intimidated by addressing someone he obviously knew by now was the Heir to Ljmarn Bra’ Adan. “Strip down, my Lord, and I’ll run you a bath. Do you have a change of clothes?”
“Everything I own except what you piled on the floor I left behind in Immer,” Jack admitted. “We were in a bit of a hurry to get here.”
“Then I’ll draw you a nice hot bath and you can soak while I find you something to wear. Something fitting for today,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Somber of course. They will lay King Ellgenn in the chapel this morning.”
“Daen, do you know if Anna…if the Queen is awake yet?”
“She is indeed my Lord,” Daen replied over his shoulder as he headed toward another room in the suite. “Since before sunrise. She is with Duke Morgan at the council chambers.”
“He said he would send for me,” Jack replied, a bit disappointed.
“And she said…demanded in fact, you were to be undisturbed,” Daen called out, as the sound of running water could be heard.
“You seem to know quite a lot of about what goes on around here Daen,” Jack said. He was down to his small clothes now and walked barefoot to where the boy was drawing his bath.
“I’m the Chief Steward’s Junior Apprentice.” Daen replied “It’s my business to know things. That’s a lot of scars my Lord,” he said, turning to regard Jack.
“I’m in trouble more often than not,” Jack shrugged.
“You should have a squire,” the boy said again, turning back to test the water. “Nice and hot my Lord. In you go now, while I find you some clothes. There’s soap and a wash towel on the ledge.”
Jack finished undressing and climbed in the recessed bath. God! The hot water was glorious! He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a proper bath. Not since Elvendale at least. He slipped beneath the water, then came up scrubbing his beard and hair vigorously. “Before you go Daen, do you know where Captain Kirk Vanar of the Golden Lions is quartered?”
“Of course, my Lord,” Daen replied, as if offended.
“Send word for him to come see me, would you?”
“I’ll see to it my Lord.”
“Thanks, Daen,” Jack said, reaching for the soap.
“Thanks, my Lord?” he boy asked, confusion marking his face for the first time.
“You know,” Jack nodded. “For…all this.”
“It is my duty. No thanks are required, my Lord.” Daen bowed.
“Please, enough. Call me Jack.”
“I had heard that about you, my Lord,” the boy said, regarding him. “But I didn’t believe it.”
“Heard what?” asked Jack as he worked up a good lather.
“That you are kind, and gracious and humble to a fault.” He replied. “I’m pleased to learn it is true. You will make a fine Prince Regent to Queen Annawyn,” Daen said matter of faculty.
When Jack looked at him in surprise, the boy grinned. “It’s my business to know things,” he winked. “Don’t forget to scrub behind your ears…Jack. I’ll be back as quick as I can.” He turned and left without another word.
Jack began scrubbing away the weeks’ worth of accumulated dirt and grim, as if trying to wash away the cost of his…accomplishment. Here he was in a hot bath while so many had sacrificed so much to bring him to this moment. Thirty-eight of them lay cold in the ground. How many more would have to lay down their lives to see him draw Yhswyndyr? It seemed as if the whole of the Whesguard was just pawns, set pieces moving about on a great cosmic board, their only purpose to protect him until he claimed his prize. Was he just a pawn as well? His choices certainly felt like his own, but were they really? There were still sections of the Prophecies of Aaracus yet to be fulfilled. Because he knew of them, did it make the path he walked any less his own? As the water cooled and his body was cleansed, he vowed silently whatever road his destiny compelled him to walk, he would do everything in his power to lessen the cost on his friends, and on the rest of this world. He’d made this vow before. This time, he prayed he had the strength to make his hope a reality.
Jack eventually decided he could get no cleaner, not unless he drew another bath and began the process again. Finding he drain valve on bath, he let out the water, grabbed a towel, and dried himself. With no clothes to change into, he wrapped the towel around his waist and returned to the main room. Daen was waiting on him.
“I’m going to have to remember to lock the door,” Jack muttered, selecting a bright red apple off the tray the boy had brought him.
“All fresh as a daisy, my Lord?” Daen asked, ignoring his remark. So much for calling him Jack. Braedan guessed old habits were sometimes just hard to break. “Your clothes are on the bed. I’ve wiped down your armor and your Ithelmere coat as best I could. It’s a fine coat. A work of art really. I suggest you wear it under your shirt. Not everyone in Dorshev will be pleased to see Jack the pirate walking around their city, despite your pardon and your titles.”
“I thought I told you to fetch Captain Vanar?” Jack remarked, taking a bit of the apple and heading to the foot of the bed where his new clothes lay.
“The Captain sends his regrets,” Daen answered. “He’s busy with your Golden Lions on some matter of security.”
Just then the door opened and Anna walked in unannounced. “Jack….oh!” Her eyes widened in shock and her face flushed crimson, seeing him standing there in just his towel. She wheeled about quickly, auburn hair swirling, and fled the room. A Ranger peered around the corner with a look of confusion, then tried to suppress a grin as his closed the door behind her.
“Definitely going to have to lock the door,” Jack sighed.
Jack dressed quickly, refusing Daen’s offer of help. Everything fit perfectly, even his new boots. He didn’t even bother to ask how Daen had found clothes that were exactly his size. It was the boy’s business to know things. Apparently, he was very good at his job. He was soon dressed, all in black silk, with only a hint of his shining Ithelmere chain mail exposed at his wrists and neck. “Daen, if the queen hasn’t run off, be a good lad and tell her I’m more presentable now.”
“At once my Lord,” the boy bowed, not even trying to hide his smile.
Daen returned quickly followed by the new, yet uncrowned queen of Doridan “My Lord, the Crown Princess Annawyn Ellgereth,” he announced, bowing with a flourish. Anna was dressed in a shimmering gown of black silk that whispered when she walked. She had recovered her composure, but her sparkling green eyes danced up and down him, as if struggling to banish the memory of his recent state of undress.
“Anna I’m so sorry about your father,” Jack said quietly, and her composure crumbled. She rushed into his arms, tears flowing as she hugged him tightly.
“I’ll leave you to your privacy,” Daen bowed again.
“Just outside Daen,” Jack said quickly, remembering Morgan’s words about protocol. “Remain in the hallway and leave the door open.”
“As you wish,” he bowed again.
Jack stood there, holding Anna and stroking her hair while he let her grief pass. It lasted only a moment, then she stepped back a single pace, but kept her hands on his hips. Jack reached up and brushed away tears from her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he said again.
“I wish you could have met father…before,” she said quietly. “He was a strong man once, worthy to be called a King of the Whesguard.”
“It is how you should remember him,” Jack replied. “It is how Doridan will remember him if they see his strength in their new queen.”
“Thank you, Jack,” she nodded. And amazingly, she somehow managed a smile small. “For everything.”
Jack almost said, ‘I wish we could have gotten here sooner’ but he let those words die on his lips. They would serve no good purpose. Ins
tead, he took her by an arm a led her to a chair. “Now, what were you going to say…before?” he asked, taking a seat in the chair beside her as he reached out and took on of her hands.
“So much has happened,” she replied, and despite the fact her dead father lay somewhere in this place, and the remains of the fierce battle of the day before where likely still not cleared away, she could not disguise the joy in her voice. “I have just come from the council meeting. Morgan has freed me of my engagement to Kiathan. I am free Jack. Free to marry another…if, if someone suitable can be found. And, if he should ask,” she finished demurely, her cheeks flushing as she lowered her eyes.
He wanted to say something playful, something sarcastic, but now was not the time. Her father was dead. There were fresh graves in the palace garden from a battle only hours ago. There was a long road ahead for him. For them both. “Anna,” he said, lifting her perfect chin so their eyes met once more.
“Yes,” she nodded quickly. “Yes, I will.”
“Are you sure?” Jack said hesitantly. “Knowing what I am? Who I am? Knowing I can’t stay here and be the…Prince Regent…you deserve.”
“My heart has known you for a thousand lifetimes Jack Braeden,” she replied quietly. “I felt it the moment I saw, you, though I did not know it at the time. I wish with all my heart you could be just ….I wish you and I could wed and live out our days in happiness here but…I know is not to be. I know where you must go, what you must do, who you must face. But until then, in the days we have left, I will be your queen…I will be your wife, if you will have me?”
“Anna,” Jack replied, sliding from the chair and taking a knee before the beautiful young woman, “there is only one thing I’m sure of since I came to this land. I love you. Nothing would please me more than to be your husband. I don’t really know what being a husband means. I know even less about being a Prince. But…Whether fate grants us one more day together, or ten thousand, I will do what-ever it takes to make you happy. If you will have me?”
“I have already said yes, Jack,” she smiled, reaching down to caress his cheek.
“Then I suppose I need to talk to Morgan bout your dowry,” he smiled.
“From what I have heard, the Duke of Thonbor is rather wealthy,” Anna replied.
“Oh, you have, have you?” Jack grinned. “How can I be sure you aren’t just marrying me for my money?”
“Because I loved you when you were a condemned pirate, Jack Braedan,” she smiled, and bent down to kiss him.
“Pardon Highness, my Lord High Prince,” Daen Haemon interrupted, re-entering the room before their lips could touch, “Duke Morgan sends word, they are ready for the viewing of King Ellgenn to begin at the chapel.”
“Will you escort me to see my father, Jack?” Anna asked quietly.
“Of course,” he nodded. “Let me get Grimrror, if it’s allowed?”
“The queen’s champion should always be armed,” she nodded sadly. “The Ivory Throne is safer than it was yesterday, but we still have a strong adversary.”
Jack went to the bed where Grimrror rested against the headboard, but before he could reach the Elvan forged blade, Daen darted around him. “You should really think about getting a squire my Lord,” he boy said, buckling the sword around his waist.
The body of Ellgenn Ellgereth, thirty second King of Doridan, lay in state in the chapel of Saint Elloras on the palace grounds. As was tradition, he was viewed by his remaining family first. With Dorad…gone, all that remained of the Ellgereth line was Annawyn and Morgan and Sir Gain. With the siege lifted on the White Horse Tower, he had come to the palace with all haste. Anna steeled herself as they looked upon his body. Whether it was Jack’s supporting arm, or the words he had spoken to her earlier, the future queen shed no more tears. They stayed only a moment. Anna kissed his forehead one last time, then they departed. Once the room was cleared, all the citizens of Dorshev would be given the opportunity to pay their respects to the deceased monarch. For two days they would be allowed to file by the body of their deceased king, then on the morning of the third day, he could join his ancestors in the crypt beneath the chapel. On the following day, Annawyn Ellgereth, Princess of Doridan, would be crowned Queen. Until that time, Anna would remain alone in her quarters in mourning. Only after she had been crowed and received fealty from the nobles of Doridan could she announce her intention to wed the Heir of Ljmarn Bra’ Adan. Then there would be the Vows of Commitment ceremony. Marrying a queen was no small matter in the Whesguard.
Jack suffered his forced absence from her side by busying himself reading, sword practice with the Lions, and catching up with Tarsus. He finally learned what had happened that day in the snowy Margalags outside the Iron Tower. Pursued by a dragon and hundreds of grim’Hiru, he and Maelcain and separated to split their pursuit. Most had followed the giant. Most but not all.
“A few grim’Hiru took your eye?” Jack had asked with mocking gravity.
“A few as in a dozen,” Tarsus had replied indignantly. “And they didn’t take my eye. I made them earn it. I didn’t have an Ailfar Lord nursing me back to health like some people. I spent the winter hiding in caves, drinking melted snow and eating…well, whatever it took to survive. When spring came, I slipped away. Forty pounds lighter and minus an eye. The Galekindar found me halfway to back Amar, almost dead on my feet.” Of what had happened to Maelcain after they parted, the Amarian had no clue.
On the second day after King Ellgenn had been lain in state, Richard de’Bracy arrived, having come straightway to Dorshev after missing his employer at Immer. “You’ve been busy since we last spoke…High Prince,” was his understated greeting. “So, have I.” He spent the better part of two hours filling Jack in on the investments he’d made in the short time they’d been apart.
“There is a shipment of silk arriving today from Kadin I think I’ll purchase, if my Lord agrees?” he said, finishing his report.
“From Kadin?” asked Jack, curiously. “The kingdoms of the Whesguard trade with Kadinar?”
“Merchants have never let such a small matter as century’s old enmity interfere with trade, my Lord,” Richard smiled.
“Do what you think is best, as always, Richard,” Jack shrugged. “Will it help with the price if you show them this?” he asked, removing the golden ring the young Prince Manar had given him from his finger.
“It will indeed, Great Prince,” Richard smiled broadly.
“How much of my money did you bring with you, for other things?” asked Jack.
“What sort of things, my Lord?” de’Bracy asked. “I can open a line of credit with one of the local lending houses if I must.”
“A new wardrobe to start,” Jack replied.
“I should have sufficient funds to cover that,” Richard replied, doing a quick calculation in his head.
“And…I’d like to buy Val’anna mounts for all the Golden Lions,” Jack continued. “And recruit more men to expand their ranks.”
“Val’anna. For all the Lions?” Richard sighed, “I shall definitely need to open that line of credit then.”
“Find Borg Cassaban and Arrgenn Dunnahel,” Jack suggested. “They’ll be able to help you with figuring the cost.”
“As you wish,” de’Bracy nodded. “Will that be all?”
“For now, Richard,” Jack smiled.
As de’Bracy left, he was already formulating a plan to offset the cost of the Val’anna with the profit he could turn on the Kadinar silks without even unloading them from their caravan.
On the fourth day after the Battle for the Ivory Throne, for that it was the expulsion of Kiathan and his Raashani troops from Dorshev was now being called by the citizens of Dorshev, Annawyn Ellgereth, Princess of Doridan, was crowned queen. It was a simple, yet regal ceremony. Anna knelt before the Ivory Throne and the crown of Doridan, a slender circlet of Ithelmere with a rearing stallion as its center piece, was placed upon her head by her Uncle Morgan. She then took her place on the Ivory Throne, dr
essed in a flowing, cream colored gown of silk, embossed with pearls, her auburn mane a fiery crown itself, and received fealty from the nobles of Doridan.
As her champion, Jack Braedan, Duke of Thonbor, Swordmaster of Aralon, Prince of the House of Kadda’Jhen, and claimant to the Highsword Yhswyndyr, was the last to kneel before her. “My queen,” he said, presenting a bared Grimrorr at her feet. “My sword and my life are yours. From this day until my last day, your enemies are my enemies. Your allies are my allies. All I own, I pledge to the service of the Ivory Throne.”
He and Theros had spoken at length the night before on his vow. The king of Brydium had assured him his status as High Prince of Immer, though yet to be confirmed, would by any law yet written, supersede the vows he had spoken in Brythond. So long as he also made Anna his wife, the king had added with a smile. And so long as he would answer any call to defend Brydium. Thonbor was still his lands after all, and he it’s Duke.
Annawyn presented him her hand, and she trembled slightly as he kissed the signet ring of the House of Ellgereth. “Arise John Braedan, in the service of your queen,” she replied, but did not release his hand. “Stand beside me Beloved,” she whispered.
“Citizens of Doridan,” Anna said in a voice as clear as crystal that carried throughout the throne room. “John Braedan, Duke of Thonbor, Swordmaster of Aralon, Prince of the House of Kadda’Jhen, and claimant to the Highsword Yhswyndyr, will now accept another yet title in your presence. Champion of the Queen. An honor he was earned by steel and blood and fidelity.”
The announcement was met with thunderous applause. It had been four days since the Battle for the Ivory Throne. Every citizen of Dorshev knew of the part Jack Braedan, former pirate, had played in throwing off the yoke of the usurper from Raashan. Anna allowed the ovation to run its course before continuing. “One last title I now bestow him, before all gathered here and before our Father Yh, that is Betrothed of the Queen. On the morrow, we will speak the Holy Vows of Commitment. In proper time, we shall wed in the Chapel of Saint Elloras and he shall be named Prince Regent of Doridan.”