Book 2, Chapter 33: The Twelfth Day Of The Journey And Its End
“I will not be crowning you and declaring you of age.” The earl stamped his feet, pacing the room. “It isn’t natural!”
“I really don’t care what you think is natural.”
“Listen to me, child, you release my family and-”
“No.”
“I could retake this castle myself!”
Morry stood up. The earl stared at him.
“Earl, sit down.”
“I’m fine standing.”
“Sit.”
He stared at me, at Morry, gave a hrmph and sat down.
“Look,” I started, “I’m not stealing your castle. I’m borrowing it. And your troops. You’ll get them back.”
“Well, the castle . . .
“Morry, excuse me, General Morrentz, who does the castle belong to now that the duke, my cousin, is dead? Me, the rightful ruler of this kingdom or the earl here?”
“You aren’t the rightful ruler! The dowager-regent-”
“-was replaced by the grand magister who-”
“-holds no legal authority to do such a thing!”
Morry sat back down, “The dowager is no longer regent. She willingly left with the Barclay forces and agreed to be their regent until they come of age.”
The earl folded his arms across his chest, “How do I know this account you’re giving me is accurate?”
“Are you calling the princess here a liar?”
“It’s a little too convenient, don’t you think?”
I’d about had enough of the man. He’d been bitching like this all morning, “Alright, fuck it. Morry, kill them all, starting with the earl here. We’ll murder his kids later, send Brin to a nunnery I guess. I’ll just take the damned duchy for myself.”
Morry stood up and drew his sword, the earl paled, hands in front of him waving, “Wait, wait! I’m sure we can work something out.”
“Just a sec, General. Yes, Earl? What do you suggest?”
“I’ll . . . I’ll crown you, but not queen. Princess. And I can’t declare you of age, but . . .” He sighed and slumped into his chair, “How does Crown Princess sound? You’ll be queen when you reach sixteen.”
“Now I think we’re getting somewhere. I am already the crown princess, am I not?”
“Yes, but-”
“So, what are you offering here then?”
“A regal ceremony. A formal declaration. Of power. It’ll, it’ll signify to everyone that you are in charge.”
“I don’t, for the life of me, understand why this is somehow better than you just declaring that I’m the legal ruler.”
“Because you’re a child!”
“Do I sound like a child?”
“We can’t just break the fundamentals, our values, our religion.”
“You’re somehow afraid that millions of children will start declaring themselves king?” He was about to talk, but I held my hand up. “Listen and shut up. I’ve rarely heard a grown man whine so much. Ah!” I waved my index finger in his face, “Not a word. When the grand magister interrogated Duke Barclay, who confessed – you can double check that with the wizard if you like – I allowed my former mistress of the bedroom, Sapphire Barclay, to return the duke’s body to their castle for a state funeral. It was your own daughter, Brin Carlisele, who carefully explained to me that I should have branded the entire family traitors to the throne and stripped them of power, if not outright executing them.”
I continued, “Now I find myself in a similar situation. Tortured at your wife’s brother’s hands. Your head nurse knew Bechalle was torturing young girls to death. And your wife knew. I believe you knew. And you all wanted me to marry the bastard because you wanted me dead. No, keep your mouth shut. I am fully within my rights to hang you all and, as you can see, I have the force necessary to carry this out. Now, I’d like you to be a little more reasonable in your offer, please.”
He glared at me.
“You may speak now, Earl.”
“I will speak with the archbishop. We will find a way to crown you. It will be public and official.”
Morry added, “And binding.”
The earl’s shoulders were hunched over, he glanced in Morry’s direction, “And binding. Also, I want to offer you my heartfelt apology and we shall make every effort to make reparations for-”
“Ok, stop. I accept your offer. You can go talk to your family now. Give my best to the countess.”
He stood. “Do I have your leave to remove my family from the castle?”
“Absolutely not.” Another lesson I’d learn from Brin: never give up your hostage leverage.
“Your Highness,” he curtly bowed, then nodded at Morry, “General,” and left.
“I swear, Morry, how do these guys become royalty?”
“Generations of inbreeding I imagine.”
I laughed. “Brin seems ok, though. How does it work, by the way? I mean with this castle and lands. My cousin, the duke, is dead. I’m the daughter of the king and Brin’s mother is the sister of the duke.”
“Well, the man tried to kill you in his castle. I’d say it’s yours.”
“It’s a bit strange he didn’t ask for the dukedom. Does it lie empty now?”
“I’d think it would fall to the sister, which would then make the earl who just left a duke.”
“Strange that he wouldn’t try bargaining for it.”
“Yes.”
I snapped my fingers as I figured it out. “The command structure!”
“Pardon me?”
“At the river. Bechalle kept our two armies separate when Brundle was certain the armies would be better off under one command.”
“He misdirected you?”
“We have to send messengers there immediately!”
He rose, “I’ll have someone see to it. We’ll send a cavalry unit, declare the duke dead, long live the princess. But I’m not leaving you here by yourself. I’ll call Tread, send orders.”
“Excellent, that works.” I sipped my tea. Probably Bechalle was hoping to take my soldiers once I was dead, but he couldn’t predict how they’d react. So, he kept the command structures separate just in case he had to surprise attack them. In my state, I couldn’t ride out there. And I needed Morry and most of his cavalry here or we could lose this castle, which would also mean losing my life.
“Wait!” I said, stopping him, “Send the earl. Along with our cavalry units. Tell him it’s his duty, to inform the men of the new ruler.”
“If you think that’s wise.”
“He’s to take none of his men and no weapons and head to Brundle first. Be directed to Brundle, I mean, by our troops. Forcefully. Hell, tie the man up for all I care, toss him on a horse.”
“You’re bargaining on the fact that he won’t betray his family. I’m not so sure this is a good idea.”
“You saw him change his mind quickly, he won’t betray us. He wants to keep his family alive.”
“Let’s hope.”
“Morry, I’m not going to kill children. It’s not a gamble, either way.”
“You’re a kind soul, Princess. Perhaps too kind to rule.”
“Yeah, life keeps beating that lesson into me.”
***
After Morry had left to give orders, I picked up my tea, drinking deeply. I wanted to sit back, but the pain that motion would cause prevented me. Getting more blood all over the furniture wasn’t a great idea either. So, I sort of sat forward.
Lots of time to think. I’d have to bring advisors in, learn how a castle, this castle functions. The ins and outs. I wondered if Brin and I could remain friends. Would she forgive that I just took her family hostage, threatened her baby sisters? I hoped.
Even if power transfers smoothly, many, many enemies waited just out of reach. The dowager and her Barclay duchy. And her bad guy church friends, however much power they bring to the table. The Ketzillians occupying my castle, which I’d never seen, and Earl Yohstone’s, wanting, waiting, to take these lands, too. The Laemacian Empire to the Northeast. At least they had not made a move on us. With luck, they forgot I existed.
I sighed. Most likely, they were on the way.
It seems that I had winter to prepare. Build the new weapons technology, train the troops in their use. Call my new bannermen and convince them to listen to a girl princess. Invent whiskey. Perhaps that alone would convince them.
So much to do.
Hopefully, this young body would heal quickly. Though with scars. One more bullet point to my to-do list: figure out what this symbol meant. It seemed there was a runic or symbolic aspect to magic. Something worth learning.
The grand magister knew more than he was telling me. And now he had Bechalle’s blade. If the wizard came to the same conclusion the duke did, I was possibly headed for another carving. Not something I wanted to happen. So, I had to figure out these symbols quickly, find some way to reason with the wizard. Or, if that wasn’t possible, stop him. The most powerful wizard alive.
Reaching for the bread, lost in thought, a purple spark jumped from my thumb to my index finger. I turned my hand over, little bolts of purple lightning traced a pattern across my palm, tingling, lifted off, lingering in the air.
Huh. This was new.
Author's Note
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