Part 7: Pawn

(DATE REF APRIL 16TH VOL. 1)

ARMAND

The flurry of preparations ended as suddenly as they had begun, giving a hypothetical onlooker the impression that they were chaotic and unplanned. Very little could be further from the truth, Leander and on occasion Painton (who was still seriously and inexplicable ill) had masterminded the whole affair with military precision, impressing the prince further with his competence at such a young age. The nobles, still reeling from the sheer scale of activities around them were now assembled in the Great Hall, anyone who was anyone was there in that hall, even the still silent Alexandra was there, propped up in a suitably prominent chair.

The hall itself was a festoon of gold, even he floral decorations matched, the flowers that were not yellow had been hand painted gold. The whole expanse an obvious reflection of wealth, and showiness. At midday the music began, as was customary at coronations, some traditions even Armand would not tamper with, he knew where to draw the line. The hall doors opened to reveal Armand. His appearance, always perfect, was today divine. A strange rush filled his veins, one that he had never felt before. It was like an anticipatory feeling of total power, like basking. In a few moments he would be officially head of the most important family in the world, and ruler of the greatest country in the known world. He shivered with the rush and stepped forward, towards the throne, savouring every moment 'you only get one coronation' he thought to himself, then with an invisible sneer remembered Surrendia 'well maybe two'

All continued to the letter, Armand read the same oath, to the letter that Louie had read years previously and Edward long before him. But when it came to the crowning, Armand paused the proceedings and addressed the assembled crowd, breaking with tradition

"Assembled Lords and Ladies, please forgive me" he had his customary charms and graces switched full on, with a smile to captivate men and women alike

"I find it – though I'm sure you will agree – I find it somewhat unseemly for me to wear Louie's crown, with his horrifying murder so fresh in our minds, and with the perverted murder still on the loose-" he paused, a murmur had circulated the crowd, and held his hand up for silence

"I will therefore substitute another crown until such time as our Kings - my fathers – murderer can be found and made to pay for some of what he has done, for no mortal punishment can atone for this most terrible crime"

Applause broke out all around the room, pleased with the approval Armand produced the crown he had discovered in the Room of Lost Souls.

(date ref: april 18th vol 1)

MORGAN

As fast as she dared, Morgan rode out of the fens. The going was bad, boggier than usual, so the journey took longer than it ought to have. Finally the bridge over the River of Life came in to view, triumphantly they sped over it.

After a few moments Morgan realised she was alone. Angrily she reigned in, Elysium was there, but now a long way behind. Pathetically her horse approached

"What's the matter?" Morgan asked angrily, the delay grating against her short temper

"He's done his foot in " the maid explained

"Damn! This is no good " she pouted, surveying the offending horse as if it was deliberately lame. Her desire for flight forced her into a quick decision " We need it still. Keep going. When it's bad enough then we'll stop"

Sadly the maid nodded, it was bad enough now, but knowing better than to challenge her mistress forced the limping animal onwards. Soon they reached the end of Midian's track and turned west, towards the keep

"Oh!" said Morgan, again pouting at the lame horse " it'll take days and days to get there at this rate. We can't risk being caught"

Elysium, however was not listening, she had turned in the saddle, peering back the way they had come

"What is it?" asked Morgan breathlessly, peering back along Elysium's line of sight

"Riders" the maid said " – two of them"

"Are they ours?"

"I don't think so"

"Well we can't out run them," The Lady Morgan said flatly, unconcerned now that the riders were not from Midian. The two females were travelling so slowly that it did not take long for the riders to catch them.

"Hi" called a well spoken, if strangely accented voice. Morgan turned, about to go on about being a lady, and how one should address a lady, when the words died in her mouth. Nothing in Midian had prepared her for these two strangers, and their astounding mounts. The horses, obviously expensive, were amazing creatures, identical in every way- they even tossed their heads in unison, and had a surprising colour scheme, bodies as black as night, with silvery-white manes. Tearing her eyes from the beasts her heart stopped, men in Midian were like the animals of Midian, bred for survival in the swampy conditions, few were attractive, and now, mounted upon one of the mythical creatures was the singularly most handsome youth she had ever seen, or even imagined. His cheeky blonde hair just completed the boy.

Realising she had been staring at the stranger _ not at all ladylike – she blushed furiously and turned away.

"You should blush" The other rider said cuttingly, she had not even looked at him yet, but instantly disliked his tone "Riding a horse that lame, it's practically cruel. Where are you going in such a hurry?"

Morgan regarded the second youth loftily, somewhat gob-smacked at being addressed in such an outwardly rude manner. He was stormy looking, With thick black curly hair framing his face adding to the drama of his expressional face. He both contrasted and complimented the other lad, perhaps they were brothers she thought.

"my name is Lady Morgan of Midian" She decided to ignore the rude dark-haired boy's words. The blonde boy opened his mouth but was cut off by his rude companion

"I am Edwin and this is Silk, we are from BLANK. And we are honoured to meet you Lady Morgan" She was somewhat mollified by this, but still disliked the boy.

"Thank you Edwin, Silk"

"Where are you going in such a rush?" Silk asked, his tone somewhat friendlier

"To the Stronghold of course! Where else would anyone be going?" She peered at them suspiciously "Where are you going then?"

"Also to the Stronghold, we must know if the stories are true"

"well," she said "I can save you a journey – they are"

"Thank you for your enlightening insight" Edwin said, his voice still unimpressed " But I think we'll still go along, if it's all the same to you"

Morgan was now out of her depth with Edwin, having never been challenged before found Edwin to be as unfamiliar as someone speaking a totally different language. Turning to Silk instead she explained that their horse was lame

"it is obvious that that horse cannot go on like that, we are honourable men" Silk explained "Despite my companions terseness. Please, Edwin and I will ride double, your ladyship must ride one of our own horses. If your horse carries no weight it may make it to the next village"

Morgan glanced at Elysium, the handmaid wanted desperately to tell her mistress to refuse the offer, but would not risk chastisement in front of the dashing youths. Happily Morgan said "I accept"

(date ref: april 22nd vol 1)

SILK AND EDWIN

As he dismounted, Edwin shot Silk a piercing look – it had better be only to the next village. Lady Morgan's servant quickly repacked their bags, and tied the lame horses reins to the others saddle. Graciously Silk helped the girl onto Edwin's horse, surprised at how small and light she was (a trait of the Fens people), then the boys mounted.

Edwin lounged contentedly behind Silk, his head resting on his companions shoulder, listening quietly to the conversation. It seemed to him that Morgan was a very spoiled little girl. It must be rather isolated in those stinking bogs he reasoned growing up perhaps alone apart form servants He instantly disliked her. In the Surrendian court they were admittedly less formal than in the past, but even so there were rules on how to behave. This girl genuinely seemed to believe that the world, in some way revolved around her own whims

Silk chatted amenably to Morgan, enjoying the irony of their hidden identity. The girl knew very little about the outside world, especially current affairs. He was not at all surprised now that the fenland had been entirely unaffected by the war, nothing it seemed penetrated its quick sand filled interior. No one in their right mind would go there, let alone live there, though he kept that thought to himself so as to not offend the girl.

A village came into sight after a few hours, but as they drew closer it became apparent that something was wrong

"My god!" exclaimed Morgan – cloistered she may have been, but she still knew a plague warning when she saw one

"What is it Morgan?" Silk asked, surprised by the new tone in her voice, one that was neither haughty or petulant. In her concernation she ignored the lack of 'lady' in his sentence

"It's a plague warning" She breathed

"Plague?" Said the seemingly asleep Edwin, who was at once alert and upright

"Perhaps not The Plague" she admitted, frowning closer at the sign "But an infectious illness none the less, it's a clear warning. We cannot enter the village"

"How far to the next one?" Silk asked

"How should I know" she snapped, once again the spoiled brat "I've never been this far from Midian before"

"Well that makes two of us!" Silk replied trying to sound cheerful

They continued in a sullen silence, leaving the contaminated village behind them, the silence continuing through the afternoon. In his usual irrepressible manner Silk would attempt conversation, but could not get anyone to engage him. He burned with the need to talk things over with Edwin before they reached the Stronghold, but could not abandon the girl. The missing slave girl – Belyinda was unlikely to have passed this way, they had seen no other travellers since leaving the bandits behind at the Gateway, and the Running horse was too distinctive to pass through any crowd unnoticed.

Silk also watched the Lady as she rode, the twin horses keeping level even with the strange rider. She was a very small person, so much so that it was hard to guess her age, and her childish mannerisms did not help. She was definitely younger than himself, but probably not the child she often appeared to be. Her face was rounded, and smooth, an occasional insect bite marred its perfection, but, living in a swamp one had to put up with these things he decided. She wore no make up, a rarity among noble ladies. Presumably the heat made it impractical, her hair too was unconventional, it was short for a woman, only a few inches longer that Edwin's own. He thought she saw him study her, but she declined to acknowledge it, instead looked loftily ahead.

At one point she glanced disapprovingly at Edwin, at his hands clasped loosely about Silk's waist. For the first time ever Silk felt embarrassed by Edwin's familiarity. In Surrendia the boys had been constant companions for so long that no one gave their friendship a second thought, but here among strangers things might well be different. Involuntarily he stiffened away from Edwin's familiarity. Edwin, as sensitive as ever felt Silk tense away from him. A pang ran through the stormy boy, from the corner of his half closed eyes he caught Morgan's judgmental glance. Anger grew in his chest.

HANNAH PLOTS FOR THE THRONE INSERT

(DATE REF: MAY 10TH)

(date ref: may 16th vol 1)

MORGAN

Silk seemed like a nice lad. Obviously though, being of common blood she could not get too close, but his honest, buoyant nature was hard to ignore. Apart from the obvious flaw that he was not a knight, he seemed to be everything she had ever dreamed of. Several times she had noticed him watching her, like some jewelled treasure. Of course she was too lady-like to admit that she saw him, secretly though she smiled filled with warmth.

That Edwin though, she thought, she really did not like him. It was by now not just that they had got off on the wrong foot, something about him grated her. She allowed herself to glimpse at the ruffian. He seemed asleep, draped over Silk, arms encircling the lad. It was unseemly, she thought, the actions themselves were innocent enough, but there seemed to be an underlying current between the two of them. After all they were both near manhood, such closeness was not proper for grown men. At first she had assumed them to be brothers, but by now had realised her mistake. Silk visibly stiffened under her gaze, blushing at being discovered gawking she turned away and surveyed the unchanging grasslands around them. By now Midian was just a green smudge above the grass to the east, in a couple of hours it would not be visible at all. That thought cheered Morgan.

Eventually the sun began to dip below the tall grass, their eyes burned, for they rode directly towards the sun set. There was still no sign of a village, or of any other settlement. Being the oldest, Elysium respectfully drew level and suggested they break for camp before night fell. The maid had desperately hoped to find a village before it became necessary. camping in the middle of nowhere with two – essentially – strangers did not please her, but she realised that had things been different Morgan and herself could have easily been in the same situation alone, better the devil you know she thought.

Silk readily agreed to stop, the other one seemed more reluctant. It was obvious he wasted to be alone with his companion. They struck north a little way, just to get off the main trail, and camped near the banks of the River of Life, where there were at least a few trees, and wood for a fire. Edwin and Elysium were the only two with any real trail experience, and between them set up camp for the other two. Silk and Morgan fell together doing the unskilled tasks, like untacking the horses and watering them. The lame horse gratefully rested its injury in the cold river water.

The day had been hot, and still the warmth hung in the air as the light faded, they both basked in the last direct rays of the sun. It was so different from Midian, the insects were barely noticeable, though Silk still seemed bothered by them, and there was no mugginess in the air. Again Morgan vowed to never return to that swampland, its stinking tropical interior seemed more clearly the prison she had imagined it to be. Here in the real world you could walk or ride in any direction without fear of being sucked down in to a boggy hole, never to be seen again

"It's so beautiful here" she said without thinking. Obviously pleased that she had volunteered some conversation Silk agreed "Yes, it is, it's rather different to what I'm used to too"

"this place is nothing like Midian"

"You've lived there all your life?"

"Yes-" she was about to add more, but stopped herself

"- must be lonely" Silk finished for her. She eyed him suspiciously for a moment, knowing she should not really be talking openly like this

"It is. No one ever comes to Midian if they can help it. We were last on the messengers list, We don't have any family outside Midian, and fathers ill so he doesn't travel"

"why leave now – after so long?"

"Armand, the crown, Louie's death. In Midian we had no idea there was trouble in the Stronghold. The prince's poisoning is old news – I'll bet the Surrendian scum heard of it before us!"

"Perhaps" Silk said, a little stiffly. Morgan had no idea what she had said to offend him, but was sorry that she had.

"what of your journey?" She asked " Are your horses a gift for the new king – they're certainly fit for a king" Silk laughed heartily, a little too heartily, and patted the nearest one "no, they're all mine"

(date ref: may 29th vol 1)

SILK AND EDWIN

Silk had had a good time talking with Morgan, brief though it was and was somewhat reluctant to return to the campsite.

Edwin on the other hand, was consciously awaiting their return. He watched them together with the horses, and take seats by the fire "where have you been all this time?" he asked pointedly, a dark fire alive in his eyes. Silk could not name the flash, pin it to an emotion, he had never seen such a thing off Edwin before, defensively he said "Watering the horses of course"

Edwin made a disgruntled noise, Morgan abruptly left.

Elysium had cooked a meal for all of them, glad now that they were there. It was blindingly obvious to her that the boys were nobility, and she treated them as such. The boys were not only useful in that Edwin chopped wood for her, they also served to distract Morgan, and for that she was truly grateful, it was almost like a holiday. The food was good, for the boys it was certainly better than their previous meal, neither boy being used to cooking. Despite the good food the party ate in a strained silence. Silk sat, unconsciously away from Edwin, but the sensitive boy felt it keenly. Unable to control his emotions, a brooding scowl settled upon his face. That meddling Carthian girl. Edwin could see nothing attractive about her. She was small and weak, and oh so naive, with her pointy stuck up nose, and her idiotic airs and graces – he hoped that she would feel very much out of place in the Carthian court.

When it came to retire Silk put his bedroll apart from Edwin's own, it was another knife wound in the young Lords heart. Silk found himself thinking more and more about Morgan. She really was very sweet, none of the Surrendian women had been worth a second look. Her starry-eyedness appealed to him in a strange way. The ladies of court were strange even alien beings, cold and calculating, all seeking power through marriage, with Silk being the ultimate prize. This un-painted girl here, seemed like a lone beauty in a sea of disguises. She needed no fancy trimmings t be attractive.

Eventually, unable to sleep Silk trudged down to the river to wash. Excitedly Edwin followed.

"What a day!" Edwin said amenably, putting his arm around Silks waist "It seems like forever, I can't wait till it's just the two of us again" Silk remained silent. Puzzled and fearful Edwin tried to draw him closer, he felt Silk reluctantly comply

"What's wrong Silk?" His troubled eyes staring deeply into Silk's own. The king's eyes were blank, devoid of both emotion and enlightenment

"Not now, Edwin"

"why not now – the lady won't disturb us?"

"I just don't want to. I'm tired" Rejected Edwin stomped back to the camp.

(date ref: may 11th vol 1)

ARMAND

Gratefully, Armand concentrated on partying. The whole castle seemed to feel as he did, that this would be the last chance for celebration for a long while. He spared no expense, and was swiftly very merry. The second day, aside from feasting and drinking, was a day for gift giving, and for allegiances to be pledged.

Drunkenly he sat through the formalities trying not to hiccup too loudly. The court was in fine spirits however, and enjoyed his good humour. Louie's court sessions had been very formal and proper, with little joking around. The younger nobles especially, who had not fought in the war and thusly were not as loyal to Louie as their fathers, found the change of pace more suiting to their own tastes. Armand had always been something of a party animal, even under Louie's stern gaze, now left to his own devices the parties should be near constant. The crowd loved Armand's sarcasm and his belittlement, his razor wit made him a favourite with the younger crowd, and the mature warriors, well they respected tradition enough to put up with some of their young king's antics. Provided he came through with the goods.

Even with the short notice the gift giving was rather extensive. Indulgently Armand waded through a mixed mountain of token and expensive gifts. Most of the items would be thrown away, or distributed to the poor, but here and there things appealed to Armand's taste.

Early in the evening, the sun fat and low, spirits were up, both the liquid and moral, the nobles lounged in the Great Hall talking of war and their own prowess. Someone to Armand's left suggested a duel, then to his right a joust. Keen for more bloodshed Armand shakily stood. Someone supported him briefly

"My friends" He began tripping over his words drunkenly "Let us ad ... adj ... go to the fields – perhaps some games are the order of the day"

Drunken cheers greeted his pronouncement, teetering groups of people supporting each other headed for the outer keep and the great Common Meadow. This too lay within the Strongholds gargantuan outer wall, secure within their castle.

The able-bodied servants bullied the drunken ones into activity, some grateful for the chance to tidy the wreckage in the Great Hall, others hurriedly assembling the tournament area.

Outside Armand unsteadily chose a nice-looking spot, and fell over on to it. Onlookers cheered enthusiastically, and the space around the king rapidly filled. Armand was not as drunk as he was making out, it was true that he had consumed copious amounts of wine, both that day and on the previous day, but he did not suffer from it. It amused him to feign drunkenness, the people around him would relax more, would see false weaknesses in him. Much like in fencing, try and gain advantage, but in Armand would ultimately find only their own downfall. Laughing heartily the king turned his attention to the games at hand.

A few friendly bouts had begun, and two nobles were donning jousting armour. There were several people having fisti-cuffs, it was unclear whether the fighting was the result of an argument or had begun as a friendly bout, but there was certainly a lot of blood.

The jousters ready, barriers erected the first two nobles were ready to go. He pulled himself up, and produced a 'kerchief. He flourished it, the crowd quietened. He struck a jaunty pose, and loosed the cloth. The moment it touched the ground the great horses leaped forward. Both aims were good, the lances locked and shattered. On the next pass red struck blue, but he remained in the saddle. The third pass did it, the blue already weakened, aimed poorly and was struck from his saddle. The king applauded, and the group joined in. The red rider issued another challenge. The games were truly under way.

Through his drunken façade Armand watched the jousters closely, after seeing nearly ten men fall to the red rider, he felt confident enough to attempt the sport.

"Who else will challenge me?" called the red rider, contemptuous now – and rightfully to- Armand waited a moment before answering – just to build a little suspense.