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Corrandion, Corridane
I am JT, Ringer, nutjob, and archer, in that order. I like animated films, epic films, book films, movie music, folk music, and the occasional random other thing. I make friends by accident and like it that way...

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29 July 2011

Chapter IV (villians)

Chapter IV

Damrod had returned to the capital city of the empire of Naibern nearly three weeks ago, but until now had not been summoned into the presence of his Emperor. When the attendant had come for him, he had risen slowly and come after the man in a foul temper. In truth, he was worried for his life, but he had found that behaving as if he had been wronged in some way lessened the feeling of fear which rose in his mind when he thought of his meeting with the Emperor, which must come, and was more likely to come to a bad end for himself than to improve his prospects under the Emperor’s rule.
At the moment, he was following the attendant down a long hallway which was lit so poorly that the walls looked black. Even the attendant he was following was garbed in a black tunic. Unable to keep his thoughts to himself, he exclaimed loudly “Darkness and gloom everywhere! One could think the Emperor is trying to make his subjects as gloomy as he is himself!”
The attendant, who was accustomed to outbursts such as this one from men who had been called to wait on the Emperor, made no reply, continuing down the long passage without a pause.
Damrod and the attendant had been walking in this manner for some time when they finally halted before a set of  large double doors which were as black as the rest of the building had been. Signaling that Damrod remain where he was, the attendant reached toward the door and grasped the large knocker situated in the middle of it. Having knocked several times, he waited silently for the call from a voice which proceeded from the other side.
The call was not long in coming. “Bring him into my presence now, though he hardly deserves to be seen!” cried the voice, in a tone which showed clearly just how low the Emperor considered most of his people.
The attendant pushed open the door, stood to one side as Damrod strode in after him , and retired once more, shutting the door on his way out.
As the emperor did not appear to be in a hurry to speak with him, Damrod was afforded ample time to study the ruler he had followed blindly for the past several years. It was not his height which made the emperor imposing, for Damrod could see that the man was no taller than he was himself. Rather,it was the face which intimidated a man. the face was worn with age, which only added every year to the hard scowl which seemed etched into the emperor’s countenance. he had a long scar on the left side which came down from his ear, coming within a fraction of an inch of his jaw before it stopped abruptly. The Emperor had black hair which had only recently begun to whiten at the edges. From the hair, Damrod continued to observe his ruler in a state of awe, letting his eyes wander until he came to the man’s astonishingly dark eyes. They were dangerous eyes, fitting perfectly within the man’s dangerous face. Once Damrod had looked into those eyes, he could not bring himself to look away, standing as one hypnotized by the fearsome stare of his ruler.
After a moment of this, the Emperor broke the silence by exclaiming “You may want to explain this, if you think it will save your life!”
Looking down at the paper the Emperor had thrown at his feet a moment before, Damrod saw the letter which Valun had sent explaining his view of Damrod’s true character.
After allowing his servant a moment to observe the note, the Emperor spoke again. ‘He desires me to exile you to a lonely island. Why should I not do so?”
“I only followed your orders, my lord.” Damrod replied, still staring at the letter.
“What am I to do with a servant who is away for as long as you were and does not once report back to me?”
“I believe those men know of you. Do you think I would have survived long if I were found to be sending messages to Naibern?”
“A good servant does not speak so to his master! Their new king sent me that! Why did they not rise up against him?”
“I can not tell you that, my lord. Mayhap they have, but I would not know, for I was sent away before it was written.”
“If you were the king, how came you to be sent away?”
“This king Valun arrived with thousands of men at his back. I could not stand against him. I was lucky enough that he did not have me executed then.”
“Would you like to show them how stupid they were to let you live?”
‘Yes. If that is your order, I would gladly do so.”
“I have been mustering the army in the days since you returned. If you had not been glad to do so, you would have had led them at the end of a pike. You will have the honor of invading the land of Corridane. Before the month is out, all those little countries will have fallen to me!”
“My thanks for the honor, my lord. May I have leave to prepare myself?”
“Go do so at once. I will order the armies to march within the day, but you shall have ample time, for the Gairbairian invaders march first.”
With a deep bow, Damrod took leave of his lord’s presence. Immensely relieved that he was not doomed to die, he went hurrying off to find a set of armor that might fit him.

17 July 2011

Chapter 4



Chapter IV

Damrod had returned to the capital city of the empire of Naibern nearly three weeks ago, but until now had not been summoned into the presence of his Emperor. When the attendant had come for him, he had risen slowly and come after the man in a foul temper. In truth, he was worried for his life, but he had found that behaving as if he had been wronged in some way lessened the feeling of fear which rose in his mind when he thought of his meeting with the Emperor, which must come, and was more likely to come to a bad end for himself than to improve his prospects under the Emperor’s rule.
At the moment, he was following the attendant down a long hallway which was lit so poorly that the walls looked black. Even the attendant he was following was garbed in a black tunic. Unable to keep his thoughts to himself, he exclaimed loudly “Darkness and gloom everywhere! One could think the Emperor is trying to make his subjects as gloomy as he is himself!”
The attendant, who was accustomed to outbursts such as this one from men who had been called to wait on the Emperor, made no reply, continuing down the long passage without a pause.
Damrod and the attendant had been walking in this manner for some time when they finally halted before a set of large double doors which were as black as the rest of the building had been. Signaling that Damrod remain where he was, the attendant reached toward the door and grasped the large knocker situated in the middle of it. Having knocked several times, he waited silently for the call from a voice which proceeded from the other side.
The call was not long in coming. “Bring him into my presence now, though he hardly deserves to be seen!” cried the voice, in a tone which showed clearly just how low the Emperor considered most of his people.
The attendant pushed open the door, stood to one side as Damrod strode in after him, and retired once more, shutting the door on his way out.
As the emperor did not appear to be in a hurry to speak with him, Damrod was afforded ample time to study the ruler he had followed blindly for the past several years. It was not his height which made the emperor imposing, for Damrod could see that the man was no taller than he was himself. Rather, it was the face which intimidated a man. The face was worn with age, which only added every year to the hard scowl which seemed etched into the emperor’s countenance. He had a long scar on the left side which came down from his ear, coming within a fraction of an inch of his jaw before it stopped abruptly. The Emperor had black hair which had only recently begun to whiten at the edges. From the hair, Damrod continued to observe his ruler in a state of awe, letting his eyes wander until he came to the man’s astonishingly dark eyes. They were dangerous eyes, fitting perfectly within the man’s dangerous face. Once Damrod had looked into those eyes, he could not bring himself to look away, standing as one hypnotized by the fearsome stare of his ruler.
After a moment of this, the Emperor broke the silence by exclaiming “You may want to explain this, if you think it will save your life!”
Looking down at the paper the Emperor had thrown at his feet a moment before, Damrod saw the letter which Valun had sent explaining his view of Damrod’s true character.
After allowing his servant a moment to observe the note, the Emperor spoke again. ‘He desires me to exile you to a lonely island. Why should I not do so?”
“I only followed your orders, my lord.” Damrod replied, still staring at the letter.
“What am I to do with a servant who is away for as long as you were and does not once report back to me?”
“I believe those men know of you. Do you think I would have survived long if I were found to be sending messages to Naibern?”
“A good servant does not speak so to his master! Their new king sent me that! Why did they not rise up against him?”
“I can not tell you that, my lord. Mayhap they have, but I would not know, for I was sent away before it was written.”
“If you were the king, how came you to be sent away?”
“This king Valun arrived with thousands of men at his back. I could not stand against him. I was lucky enough that he did not have me executed then.”
“Would you like to show them how stupid they were to let you live?”
‘Yes. If that is your order, I would gladly do so.”
“I have been mustering the army in the days since you returned. If you had not been glad to do so, you would have had led them at the end of a pike. You will have the honor of invading the land of Corridane. Before the month is out, all those little countries will have fallen to me!”
“My thanks for the honor, my lord. May I have leave to prepare myself?”
“Go do so at once. I will order the armies to march within the day, but you shall have ample time, for the Gairbairian invaders march first.”
With a deep bow, Damrod took leave of his lord’s presence. Immensely relieved that he was not doomed to die, he went hurrying off to find a set of armor that might fit him.

16 July 2011

Chapter 3



Chapter III

The next morning, Valun rose, called his valet, saying simply “Your duties commence.” and continued on to the breakfast table. As he had given orders that Robert the Ram was to be found and ordered to wait upon the king in the morning, Valun was not surprised to see Sir Robert sitting at the breakfast table waiting for him.
After Valun had seated himself, he ordered his valet to inform the kitchen that the king was waiting for his meal. Valun then turned to Sir Robert and said “I went looking for you last night, but I got lost. I did find a band of men who were easily convinced to join you, though.”
            “Oh, those men.” Sir Robert answered “They must have been the ones. They woke me up this morning to tell me they wanted to join. So of course I registered them immediately, and then came to you.”
Valun nodded. “That was good. And how many Guardsmen do you have now?” Sir Robert immediately reached into his sleeve and pulled out a large roll of parchment that nearly reached the floor, saying “Nearly two thousand.” Valun began reading it.
“That is only the first roll of names.” Sir Robert remarked. “There are ten more lists like that at my house.”
 “I see.” Valun replied. “David, find my council members and tell them to come here.”
As David was preparing to rush off, Sir Robert stopped him, saying “My Lord, why not just pull that bell rope hanging by your chair?”
Valun turned and looked. “This? I had not noticed it before.” He promptly reached up and yanked hard on the rope. Immediately, a loud clanging began which commenced reverberating around the room.
Sir Robert and the valet covered their ears as Valun, removing a hand from his own ears, quickly pulled the rope again. This time the summons was answered, the council members quickly dashing in from all sides to find out what the matter was.
Valun promptly opened the meeting. “Now, my Treasurer, I trust that you have a report to make?’
The Treasurer rose and said “There are two million and fifty thousand valandries in your treasury, Sire. Your general can answer for the fact that I did not bring any with me.” Retrieving a parchment from his sleeve, he handed it to Valun. “That is the list of merchants that you requested.”
Valun, paying more attention to this list, as it was far shorter, sat silent as his courtiers watched his face. After a few moments, Valun announced “I see three men here who trade with Brandia, and two who deal with the land of Naibern to the south.”
“Is that bad, my Lord?” asked the Treasurer.
“No. Not at all, yet. But it may be of some consequence later. I expect a letter from the king of Brandia to come soon.” Rolling up this scroll, he continued “I must keep this list. David, take this to my chamber.” David took the scroll and ran with it to the king’s chamber, hurrying back immediately.
When he returned, the king was saying “Now, raise my banner. I feel that I have neglected my people.” Everyone immediately adjourned to the audience hall. The king seated himself on the elaborate throne mentioned before, while David took up a position directly behind the king. The courtiers ranged themselves around the throne in order of their rank.
The doors were opened to reveal a crowd of people who had assembled after the banner was raised, remembering the promise their king had made on the day of his ascension.
The first case was a very strange one. The crime of forgery had been committed, but by which man could not be proved. Both men had large families who insisted that they were one and the same man. As they were both wearing hoods, the king commanded them to uncover. The situation got worse when it was shown that they looked exactly the same. On command, the first man produced a document as evidence of his handwriting. The second man did not give the officers anything. Noticing this, the king then made this announcement.
“You are condemned. You have proved yourself guilty by not handing over evidence of your handwriting. By that you have shown that you knew you would condemned in court by what you brought. I have never seen such an obvious show of guilt. You shall be imprisoned for the full length of your life.”
The king said all this in a low tone that only those inside the hall could hear. The guards took the man away as the next case approached. There was no case that day worthy of such great notice as the case of the identical men. When three hours were up, the servants closed the doors as the banner was lowered.
Soon after his time of judgment, Valun exited the castle through a small door to reach the training ranges. There he met two of the men who had helped him home. They proudly showed off their new broadswords to Valun as he asked “What do you really do, my men?” The men then showed their badges to the king. One was a tailor, the other a carpenter.
Drawing his own sword, the king remarked “So, you are doing well? Very well, let me test your skills. The pair said they would not dream of it for fear of harming his Majesty. But Valun rebuked them, saying “This is an offer. Take it or I will be upset.”
At the order from the king, the two men prepared. As they swung, Valun caught both blades on the flat of his own. Bringing his own sword into play quickly, he feinted one way, shifting one man, and locked with the other. He went back and forth with the carpenter, executing a tight spin or low duck every few seconds to avoid the tailor’s blade. Once, the tailor managed to tear the cloak Valun was wearing, but the king was not injured. “I charge you to repair that when we are done.” Valun said quickly, and continued dueling. A few seconds later, he disarmed the carpenter and focused on the tailor. It was less than a minute before he disarmed the man.
Addressing the tailor, Valun remarked “Sir, I suggest that you give that sword to another man, and get a spear or a bow for yourself. There must be something you have a talent with, but I am sure it is not a sword. Trust me.”
“I shall do as you say.” said the tailor, looking downcast. He left, feeling disappointed that he had rushed to his choice. He perked up slightly when the king yelled after him “Can you ride?” At his positive answer, the king suggested that he get himself a horse too, and find others who could ride.
After sheathing his sword, Valun strolled away to review the other men who were there to train that day. After watching and congratulating two men who were sparring with a pair of double- pointed spears that they seemed to have had custom-made, and suggesting that they have more made, and train more men.
Valun eventually made his way to the archery range, where it seemed that a competition was in progress. Two men who seemed to have proved themselves the best of the trainees were holding a three round match, watched by all the others. As both were hitting the bulls-eye with every shot, the contest was declared a tie. Valun took another look at the target before stepping forward. Both had hit dead center. Stepping forward to congratulate the pair, Valun exclaimed “You, men, could be related to the mythical archer Robin Hood!”
“Almost, Your Majesty!” the two archers responded. “We are simple hunters, but we are related to each other! We are brothers.”
“I would be proud to have such fine archers in my army.”
“We would be proud to follow you. Our father was Chief Forester to yours. Regretfully, the post is not hereditary.”
“It is now. That is an official proclamation. Now please teach these men to shoot.”
Valun left the training grounds with the cheers of the archers still loud in his ears. As soon as he had entered the castle, he was met by David, who asked for orders, but received none. Following his silent lord, David marched up to the king’s chamber, pausing at the door. The king ignored him and closed the door. David sat down on the floor, resigned to wait until he was called.
It was a few more hours (David had dozed off himself) before king Valun put his head out of his door and called David inside. The first thing David saw when he stepped inside the king’s room was an enormous old volume that Valun had sent up while David slept. The king had decided not to send David for it because of its size. “Are you aware of what this is, man?”
David admitted that unfortunately, he had not been aware that a book of that size had ever existed.
“This” the king announced, throwing open the gigantic volume “is the Book of Kings, which only the kings of Corridane and their most trusted and loyal servants may read.” Then, relaxing, the king continued in a lighter voice. “But, it is simply a history of the lives of the prior kings of our land. As this is the only copy, that restriction is placed upon it, for fear it be mislaid. This is where I will look for the answers that I cannot get in my own time. You see here? It says here that my father was the cause of an international peace that lasted as long as his reign. He began his diplomatic work as soon as he had come to power.”
“Your father was not already a king by right?”
“If we looked, you would see that a different dynasty ruled Corridane before my house. It seems that the king Valun the Great succeeded the last king of the previous dynasty as a favor, as that king died without an heir.”
Suddenly, Valun flipped through the pages to the back of the book. Finding the page that began Damrod Whipknot’s history as king, he suddenly began frantically tearing the pages out without an explanation, though David understood perfectly. When he was done, there was a litter of old parchment all over the floor of the king’s room. “Burn these pages in the fire. I never want to set eyes on a word of them again.” Valun ordered. David speedily picked up every page and ran down to the kitchen with them, dumping them into the main fire, to the surprise of the cooks. David was back at the king’s side before five minutes had passed.
When he arrived, Valun was ringing another loud bell which he had found by his desk. Almost instantly, Sir Richard was in the room. “Find the scribes and send them to me here.” The king requested. Sir Richard disappeared. Several minutes later, all the scribes in the castle were assembled in the king’s room.
“Master Scribes,” the king began “I called you to request that you begin a new volume of king’s histories. Get someone to paint my arms on the first page, like the others. I will dictate my true history. You will write it as you have the others.” 

15 July 2011

Chapter 2

If this is the first chapter you have read, click here

Chapter II

            In the days after his ascension to the throne of his father, Valun met with his council often. One morning, Valun opened the council with “As you know, ten years away in foreign lands can do a lot to a man’s memory. Begin by explaining anything there is to explain. Such as, what is the situation in the kingdom’s treasury? What does my country import or export? I demand a report! Officer of the Treasury, I command you, stand and speak!”
            The Officer of the Treasury got up and, faltering a bit, said “Sire, I do not yet have a complete report. I refused to keep records for the usurper.”
            With a laugh, Valun replied “So he got someone else to do your duties? But they are yours again now. Perform them.” turning, he said “Richard, take this man down to the treasury the chamberlain showed us on the first day. Stay down there with him to be sure he counts fairly and does not slip out with any in his pockets. Man, after you count the money, you shall go out into the city, find all of the most prosperous merchants, and find out what and who they do business with. I order you not to appear before me at this table without that report.”
            As the treasury officer and the general disappeared, Valun turned to his secondary diplomat, a veteran of his father’s court, and said “Tell me, sir, have we any standing treaties with our neighbors?”
            “Not that I know of, Sire.” The old man answered “That was exactly why your father left. He was going to renew his treaty with Brandia.”
            “Ah, possibility…What he told me could not have been his primary reason.” Valun whispered as the man finished “Servants! Bring in the next course!”
                        Half an hour later, the meal completed and all business sorted out, king Valun retired to his private chamber, ordered a servant to stand guard and notify everyone that the king was not to be disturbed, and sat down at his desk, producing a piece of parchment and ink, besides some fine quills. He then commenced to write.

To my lord the King of Brandia-
We do not yet have the honor of knowing you, or having ever visited your domains, but we trust that any little troubles between our lands on that account will soon be cleared up. Not having introduced ourself, we will proceed to that effect. We are, we are pleased to announce, the newly and rightfully crowned king over the land of Corridane, Valun, fourth of our house and third of our name to ascend the throne of our fathers; who were Valun the second, the Peacemaker, preceded by his father, Regidare the Bold, who was preceded by his father, Valun the first, the Great.
            The incident we wish to inquire into, with your much appreciated assistance, is that of the disappearance of our father, Valun the second, after he left on his last adventure. We have been told by an official in our court that his last known destination was your own kingdom, to renew a peace treaty he had made with your land before. He took our younger brother with him.
            It has been ten years and more since our father left on his way to your land. We implore you, if you mean to stay in good relations with our kingdom, to send them both home to us with all the style that befits a royal house. We regret to inform you that in the event that this request is refused, this letter goes unanswered, or if they are out of your hands, an honest attempt to find them is not made, any of these shall amount to a declaration of hostility and war between our two kingdoms.

            -P.S. We admire our fine Brandian-carved desk as we write this.

Valun the third, son of the second, King of Corridane
           
When he was done, Valun carefully folded up the letter, stamped it with his royal seal, and called the valet. He told him “I charge you to find a trustworthy man to carry this letter north to Brandia. It must arrive at the royal palace as fast as possible. That done, return here and guard my door. No one but my General may be allowed in.”
The valet answered “I answer for my cousin.” and left to execute the order.
Scarcely had the valet left with his first letter, then Valun began writing another.

To my lord the ruler of the Empire of Naibern-
You may very well soon have a despotic, cruel, and unjust man on your hands who goes by the name of Damrod Whipknot. Do not be surprised if he, on meeting you, should style himself King Damrod the first, and claim full privileges as a fellow sovereign. This is because he has only recently been removed from the kingship of, and banished from, our domain of Corridane. Be informed that this man withheld our throne from us, and actually went so far as to banish our royal person from our own kingdom, until we raised an army and regained our throne by surprise and force. We recommend that you in your turn do what we forgot to think of, and exile him to the small island in the Deerunthin Lake, which is slightly nearer your border than ours. It will be for the good of everyone involved if you accept our advice as soon as possible.

Hoping to remain your faithful friend and ally- Valun the third, King of Corridane.

Valun immediately treated this letter as he had the other, folding and stamping it. This time, though, as there was no valet in front of the door yet, he dropped his letter into a drawer of his desk, planning to find it again later. Valun then removed his crown and cloak and lay down upon his bed, overcome by the volume of his duties.
The sun was shining through his western window when he woke again, and so he immediately rose, replacing his crown, and strode out the door of his room. He inquired of the valet whether anyone had asked to see him, and the valet responded “No one but your general, Sire, who came to ask if you would ride to the hounds. When he found that you were asleep, he said he would speak with you at dinner.”
“What!” Valun exclaimed “You allowed him into my private chamber?! When I was asleep?!”
“Well… yes, my Lord. You said he was to be allowed in.” the valet whispered, beginning to worry that he was doomed to some terrible punishment “I was not aware that you were asleep. Evidently, you sleep very deeply.”
Valun finally recalled what he had said earlier. “Oh yes, that is true. I did say he was to be allowed in… You did well man, you are dismissed. But remember to be prepared to guard my chamber at any time I may want to retire. What is your name?”
The valet hesitated, still slightly overawed at being addressed directly by the king. “David, my Lord.”
“Very well, David, you are my personal servant. You will follow me everywhere, transport my correspondence to respectable couriers, personally serve my food, and guard my door when I say unless I personally tell you not to. That starts tomorrow. You may go now.”
On hearing this, David the valet was so relieved he left, bowing until he reached the stairway, as fast as he could go. After giving him time to descend, Valun followed at a majestic pace that fit his rank.
Upon entering the great hall, Valun noticed immediately that it was empty. Wondering what everyone could be doing, Valun eventually wandered out through the front door of his castle, to see the sights in his capital. As he had forgotten to take his crown off before entering the town, he found it easier that he had hoped to move through the streets, as everyone in sight was always racing their neighbor to be the first one to the edge of the road, and so look more respectful.

            Valun walked through the streets until he came upon a small group of men examining one of the notices Sir Robert had put up. The king approached his subjects quietly, and then asked loudly “So how many of you have decided to join? The pay will be good; I can assure you of that. There’s a fine uniform in the bargain too.” The men finally turned and looked at the speaker.
            “The King himself!” they all exclaimed simultaneously. The men promptly fell on their knees.
            “You may rise” Valun said immediately “I should have said that there will be fine uniforms; and I have not decided on the pay yet, but I can say that being a Guardsman will be a very prestigious position. It will be the work of the Guardsmen to keep order and protect justice in times of peace, but it is also the special responsibility of the Guardsmen to defend the city in the event of an invasion by enemies. I have three more little things to say. My training grounds will always be open for training in the use of any weapon you may feel especially adept at, it is the duty of each Guardsman to buy his own armor and weapon, and the most notably courageous Guardsmen will have the honor of being my personal bodyguards when I leave to wage war. My bodyguards would be charged with keeping me alive at all times, even at the cost of their own lives. Any who survived would be knighted on the field of battle. You all know how great an honor that is. Go; tell all the men you know what I have said. But first, guide me back to the castle. I have lost myself in this city already, and it is nearly dark.”
            After the men had led the king home and made sure he would know how to find his way back the next time, they stopped at the bottom of the steps, not daring to venture farther. Valun began climbing the steps, ignoring his guides, but then, finally realizing why they were still waiting, and knowing they fully deserved it, he turned, reached into his purse and threw them a handful of coins, turned again and strode into his castle once more.
            When the king entered his dining hall this time, he noticed that the table, excepting his royal seat, of course, was full this time. And the meal had begun. When someone finally noticed that the king had entered, he stood and announced the fact, prompting all the others to get up from their seats simultaneously, and remain standing until Valun had seated himself.
            “My Lord” Richard the Lion began, standing again. “These men are all knights who came hoping to renew their pledges of fealty to your house, and then have the honor of dining with you. Unfortunately, as you were not prepared to hear such things, it was left to me to entertain them all, and we leapt to the hunt, bringing back what you see on the table.”
            “You say” Valun retorted. “That I was not prepared to hear such things. Why, may I ask?”
            “Of course you may ask, and I must give you an answer. Did not your guard tell you that he had allowed me into your chamber? Well, you happened to be asleep at the time that I had the misfortune to enter, and I say it was a misfortune because you were making an awful noise.”
            “Really?”
            “Yes. Unfortunately, you snore.”
            The assembled knights all roared with laughter at this remark, while Valun sat indignantly, not quite getting the point. But after a few moments, he understood, and was laughing louder than the rest.

08 July 2011

Chapter 1, Price of a Throne

If this is the first chapter of this story you have read, click here

Chapter I

Chapter I



The crowd stood with bated breath as king Valun III rode through on a magnificent black horse. King Valun took a long look at both sides of the crowd and noticed its depth. He then turned and began again to face the road before him.

The time had come at last. Valun could feel the gravity of the situation, and it weighed heavily upon him. As was the tradition in Corridane, he was at the head of a procession which ought to have included the queen mother, (provided she was alive), and all of the rest of the royal family, excepting the old king, who was nearly always dead and since buried at the time that the crown prince was taking up the mantle.

The queen mother, however, had died when Valun was thirteen years old, of a sickness which was not understood. And so Valun had given John’s mother the place which belonged to his own, as a sign of favor toward the family. Valnor being also absent, there was no royal family to escort him. The procession had been filled out by the inclusion of all the Trondales and Longfurrows, with the addition of John, who had never told anyone his family name. Everyone was mounted on a fine horse of the color they deemed best.

Every member of the party was magnificently dressed in the finest clothes that could be found, outside or within the castle. Valun and the Longfurrows had chosen a moderate shade of red, whilst John and the Trondales had all arrayed themselves in a blue shade almost as light as that of the sky (which happened to be free of clouds at the moment). Several days of preparation had allowed everyone to show themselves to the best advantage. Richard and Robert had ordered new shields forged for them the day after their homecoming; they were now wearing the shields on their backs, as was Valun, who had ordered his on short notice, having decided he wanted a personal crest entirely separate from his ancestors, which would commemorate his time of exile and hardship. The people passed quickly over Valun’s crest, for as of yet they knew little more than that he was the prince. But when the Trondale and Longfurrow shields caught their eye, the people caught their breath and looked upon the crests and their bearers with the manner of pity and awe one would normally reserve for a deathbed, as they recalled the horror of the Longfurrow massacre, and the sadness of the loss of both magnificent halls. Even though the foiled revolts led by Roland Longfurrow and Eric Trondale had led to the deaths of so many young men, they had been so beloved by the commoners that the people cheered their sons. The attitude was such, that in Corridane under any other king than Valun II, the people would have placed one of the forenamed lords on the throne had he wanted it.

Robert, with his clearly evident strength, was handsome in the way that a mountain is, which is not to say that he was not, but is rather to say that he was handsome in a very firm manner. By contrast, Richard, who had had the good fortune to be picked up as a house-servant, was lithe and flexible where Robert was solid. His flair for extravagance showed itself in his raiment, as he had, at Valun’s consent, added a red cape trimmed with fur. His unusually long and bushy red hair had been restrained under a brilliantly shining helm which sported a thick black plume. The beard he had been growing since he came of age was neatly trimmed about two inches down. His height measured six feet and five inches.

John had added an untrimmed cape to his tunic. He wore no beard and his straight brown hair, though long, was not comparable to Richard’s in length. He did not wear a shield. He was riding on the right-hand side. opposite Robert.

The recent days had done the most to Anne and her mother, who both seemed to have regained a great measure of the beauty they should never have had reason to lose. In their happiness, they seemed nearly to outshine Richard’s bright helm.

In contrast to the glowing happiness of the rest of the party, Valun’s expression gave evidence of the heavy weight he carried in his heart. Even as he was surrounded by the cheering crowd, and followed closely by his great friends, he felt isolated. He felt almost as if there were a barrier between himself and the world, which placed all the voices some distance away. The words he was waiting for had not come, and so he rode forward, on through the streets until those words told him to stop. As he rode, his eyes searched through the ranks of people, so swiftly he hardly noticed. It had become a habit of his to always be searching for someone whom he hoped not to see.

If the reader will allow, we must pause the narrative for a moment and take a good, long, look at Valun III of Corridane, as he is one of the movers of the plot which will presently unfold. He is riding upon a magnificent black horse he acquired in exile; man and beast already know each other well and move smoothly along the road together. Valun’s hair is a dark brown, and falls in wide curls just at the base of his neck. His beard is no wider than his chin and short like Richard’s. It becomes him well. He has covered his chest with a shining breastplate and wears bracers on his arms. His fur-lined cape spreads out broadly from underneath his shield. His height measures six feet and six inches, making him one of only two Corridane kings to reach such a length. He wears a sword, as do the other men. We must now continue with the story, in the hope that the reader is now better able to see king Valun as he rides forward to his crowning.

Finally, after many minutes of riding, the doors of their destination came in sight. A series of narrow stone steps led up to a wide space where a large group might gather and from whence one could see several streets leading away from the steps on each side. A pair of massive oak doors stood, closed, in the center of the enormous marble building the procession now stood before, looking toward the top, which rose several feet above the parapets of the castle and was covered with a black material which had been imported. There were stained glass windows on every side of the building.

The dais of this awesome building was not empty. A tall man, who appeared to be as many fifty-five years old, whose white beard was at least a foot long, stood there. In one hand, he held an equally tall staff; his other hand was outstretched toward Valun and his party.

“What man is among you who dares to mount these steps and cry out for The Great One to bless him, that he may be a fitting ruler for this kingdom under The One?”

Valun did not react. It was tradition for the crown prince’s oldest brother to name him before the people; the naming fell to anyone else only if the second son was too young or there was none. Richard had asked that James be favored with the role, as James wished for some way to prove his belief in Valun’s word. Accordingly, the party spread out until Valun was as near as possible to the center of the line at the foot of the steps, while James dismounted.

He did not show joy now. Now he looked as if a cloud had passed over his brow and left a trace of it’s shade behind. Old men had come to all of them and explained exactly how a prince gained the acceptance of The One. James had taken his role to heart and would not deviate from it. Mounting to the third step, he faced the old man, pointed back toward Valun, and announced in a voice as deep and solemn as he could make it “I, James Longfurrow, in the place of the prince Valnor of the house of Valun, pronounce my lord Valun III, a blood descendant of the house of Valun, worthy to mount these steps and be crowned king of the Corridanes under The One!”

Riotous cheering ensued, which lasted until the priest of The One, for such he was, pounded his staff firmly on the stone under his feet and called for quiet in a voice which seemed to strong to have come from him alone. When the crowd had subdued itself, he spoke again. “He who has been named worthy of the honor of kingship must now make himself known!”

These were the words Valun had been waiting to hear since he returned home a week ago. As was the tradition, he still did not yet speak. That was for a later time. He mounted the stairs with a firm step. One look at his eyes now would be enough to make a man draw back, apprehensive of what would come. He stood perfectly straight, determined not to show, at this the time of his claiming his own, that anything weighed upon his mind. The others had also dismounted; he was flanked by the lady Evelyn on his right and Robert on his left.

When they reached the dais, the three nobles knelt before the priest, and then quickly rose again. They stepped aside and turned to face the people. The priest then stepped in front of them. Speaking to Robert, he said “Can you, Robert Trondale, say from the depths of your heart that you believe Valun III, son of Valun II, of the house of Valun the Great, will be a good and strong leader of his people, and will do only that which is good for them?”

Without hesitation, Robert answered in his firm voice “I believe within the depths of my heart that this is so, else I would not follow him.” This was the answer which the chosen lord always recited when the time came. To date, no man had replied differently than this.

Passing Valun and coming to Robert’s mother, the lady Evelyn, the priest asked her “Do you believe that Valun III will do as his forefathers before him, and give those below him, and that which is above him, the respect due to those who are above one’s station and have broken no laws?”

“In the place of the late queen mother, I say that I do believe he has been taught thus and is ready to assume the symbols and authority of the station he has come to claim.”

The priest then stepped forward. Spreading his arms out like wings, he turned to the people and cried “Ye people! You have heard the words of the prince, the noble, and the queen! Have you no objection to the prince Valun III entering into this great hall to be crowned, to be lord over all Corridane and rule it’s people as their king?”

All the people there assembled, all the people for miles around, including the bands of outlaws who had been hiding from the usurper, had come for a proper coronation, and that they would have. The people cried “Yea!” with one voice.

“Then let the doors be opened!”

Four acolytes in black seemed to materialize before the assembled people, took hold of the great rings hanging from the doors, and began to open the building to the outside world. The opening produced an ear-piercingly harsh grating sound, but no one dared to flinch. When the doors were pulled back as far as they would go, the acolytes disappeared.

The ceiling of the building slanted upward for at least twenty feet after the walls ended. Just as on the outside, the white marble walls shone in the sunlight which streamed in through the numerous windows. A long, narrow, red rug extended all the way down the length of the building, splitting the two rows of polished wooden benches that extended almost as far as the rug itself. The rug ended at a short series of steps which led to another dais upon which there was nothing but a small table and a carved chair. On the table rested a crown.

The old priest led the way into the building. After him, in succession, came Valun, lady Evelyn; James; Robert; Richard, who was immediately trailed by the rest of Robert’s family, and John. When the royal procession had entered, the common people began to trickle in, making as little noise as possible. While the priest mounted the dais before him, Valun and his party spread out in the manner they had adopted outside, and knelt as one.

When they had done this, the priest, who was now flanked by his acolytes, raised his hands, and cried “Hear me, all ye who are above and below! Valun son of Valun has been deemed worthy to receive the crown and rule this land as lord, has he not?”

No one spoke. Confusion began to appear among the common people. Almost forgetting that they were in the temple, they nearly rioted. The priest was unfazed. For a long moment, he stood frozen in thought. Then he suddenly cried “He is chosen!”

At these words, two of the acolytes brought the crown forward from the table. Taking it from them, the priest raised it high, and then slowly lowered it down onto Valun, saying as he did “You take upon you, by consent of your people and the One, the power to order things as you see fit. Handle that power carefully, or the One may destroy you. Rise and speak, King Valun III, fifth of your house!”

At the word, Valun and his retinue rose as one. Valun then called out “Bring the sword and chains!” Having said this, he began to walk down the aisle holding his head high. The determination in his eyes had been replaced by the joy the others had shown before the crowning. The nobles fell into step behind him as the commoners looked on, admiration visible on their faces.

Valun stopped when he came to a carpenter’s workbench which had been set up on the dais outside. Two strong chains lay across it.

Richard had been waiting for this moment. He left the temple, then reappeared only moments later bearing a long-sword in its sheath. He then knelt and presented the hilt of the blade to Valun, who drew it. Waiting until the last man was facing him, watching intently to see what he would do, Valun raised the sword above his head. Flourishing it dramatically, he brought it down across the chains with ferocious strength, shouting the ancient words: “Vires! Sapientia! Justicia!” His cries were punctuated by the sound of the severed chains falling to the ground.

Sheathing his sword and stepping away as the acolytes reappeared yet again to remove the ceremonial props, Valun projected his voice out toward the crowd.

“My people! You have accepted me as your king, and for that I thank you. But is there not another you would like to see in my place? Would you not like to see the Peacemaker returned in glory to his kingdom?”

The people roared their approval, while Valun held up his hands futilely. From an unseen opening, a horn sounded its deep, booming note over their heads. At this, the people silenced themselves and Valun continued.

“For I say to you that it is in my mind that, so long as my father is alive, I have stolen his crown from him just as did the man I thrust out only seven days past. To reconcile myself to the kingship I have claimed, I must receive my father’s blessing, Is this right?”

Again there was a wave of sound broken only by the horn of the temple.

“So I call upon you my people, to follow me in what I desire, which is to return my father to his kingdom, and punish those who have kept him from his home! Are my people content? I will not rest until this is done, and all Corridane shall rise with me. Have I spoken well?”

Having declared his intent, Valun stepped back and let the unfettered joy of the crowd wash over him. Crossing over to Robert, he said “Tell me. Did I speak well?”

“That you did. Though if I may be so bold, I say that you may be relieved in the future to have discovered now that your people venerate your father so. Else they may not have consented so easily to your call to war.”

“I did not say I would take them to war!”

“What then, did you mean by saying you would punish those who kept your father away, or that all Corridane would rise with you? If that is not a promise to march your people to war, then you know not of what you speak.”

“I know not of what I speak? How dare you?”

Richard, hearing the argument approaching, stepped between them. “I cry your pardon, my lord, but Robert is right in what he says. Either you mean to march the people to war as soon as you are able, for they will not forget, or you have spoken a foul untruth upon the steps of the temple, which is doubly terrible, or you are simply not fit to be king, though far be it from me to believe either of the latter. The people are waiting for your word. Tell them now that you will make them fight to reclaim your father, or release your hold on the respect of your people which your father has passed on to you.”

“You have my pardon, my friends. I see now what I have done.” Coming before the crowd again, he cried “My people! If I call you to war, for so have I done, for the sake of the old king, will you follow me?”

“Unto the ends of the earth, for we would bring back the wisdom of your father!”

“Are you satisfied, Robert? They want my father more than me? Than I will give them my father, and show them as I do so, that I am my father’s son.”

03 July 2011

Prologue, Part Two


Leaving the castle, Valun rode through the streets of the city, intending to reacquaint himself with the arrangement of the city. Though he had been nearly of age at the time of his exile, the intervening time had done much to his memories and seemed to have done likewise to the city. Where once families and livelihoods had thrived, there now stood derelict ruins. Entire blocks of the magnificent city were totally abandoned.


His voice heavy with the sadness of his people, Valun turned to Richard, who rode beside him. “What could have caused this? In my father’s day, everyone was content and the land prospered. And I, his heir, return to find this.”

“There is one answer I can think of, my lord, and you sent him away under pain of death this day.” Richard replied. His face was set in hard lines which seemed etched into his face. Grasping his sword, he added “How I wish you had let us slay him then. Your honor will be the bane of us one day.”

Stopping his horse, Valun dismounted. “Come down from your high horse, my friend. Furious as I was, I could not have killed him at a disadvantage simply because of that. You know well that I would never do that. However, I admit now that had I known what he had done to my people, I would have slain him there without another thought. I am a ruler, and I must think of my people. I would not have them believe that the son of the peacemaker is a ruthless killer.”

During the course of this speech, Richard had dismounted and now stood facing Valun on the ground. They stood about three feet apart. Removing his helm and laying it on his saddle, Richard replied “The people had not really discovered us yet. They would not have heard of this until much later, when they would gladly rejoice.”

“A true man does not change his ways because no one is there to see what he does.”

“I understand, my lord. Look, Robert approaches, with an old man.”

At Richard’s words, Valun turned to look at the approaching men. His friend and guard, Robert the Ram, was approaching. His hand was wrapped firmly around that of his companion, an ancient grandfather who looked as if he had been sitting in a corner collecting dust since the time of the Peacemaker, Valun’s father.

The old man was voicing what protest he could, though he was not otherwise trying to resist. “What help can I be to you now? Is it true that you think there’s still another band of the young men out of your grasp? And you think I’ll tell you where they are? I, never! You’re a yellow-bellied coward and I hope you feed the dogs with your death! Kill me now! Come and face me, you foul usurper!”

Valun stepped back and conferred with Richard inaudibly for a moment before raising his voice to speak to the others.

“Let him sit. Otherwise he may fall when he hears what I tell him.”

Without a word in reply, Robert lowered the old man until he was seated upon the porch of one of the ruined houses.

Valun spoke, keeping his voice soft, for he could see that the man was determined to die rather than reveal anything. “I ask nothing of you, my good man. Oh, it is true that I ask what has caused the decline of this my great city, but that is all.”

The old man repeated his words mockingly. “My good man? When was the last time you called us anything but scum? What caused the decline of this your faded city? Why, you did, of course, with your actions for the betterment of the nation, you called it. You killed all the old king’s men, those who didn’t go into hiding, and you know it. You a good king? I’ll believe that when I believe that the house of Valun is restored.”

“Then believe, man, for it has been done as you say.” said Valun majestically “Is there nothing I can do that shall convince you that I am, as I say, king Valun III of Corridane, returned?”

“Go out. Find the Peacemaker and bring him back so that all may see him. Bring him back so that I may hear that voice again, the voice of kings, proclaim once more that there is peace in the land.”

“It shall be done, for I would have all my subjects believe my words.” As an aside to Robert, Valun added “Was there no one else?”

Releasing his prisoner, Robert said “I asked for the oldest man around. He was brought to me. What would you have me do?”

Valun tossed a purse of money, which Robert caught deftly. “Take him to good lodgings and give him this, a present from the king he doubts.” Mounting his steed, he added “Where shall we go now?”

Richard also remounted. It was clear that he was nervous as he said “I fear to plague my lord overmuch, but if you would grace my hall of Longfurrow?”

“I would be glad to visit a good friend’s halls. We go. Robert, do you know the way to that estate?”

“I do, and I wish I had not been behindhand in offering the hospitality of Trondale Hall.”

Valun almost laughed. “I wish I was two men, so I might visit you both equally. But you, Robert, will know that I mean no dishonor to you. Go and do as I have said.”

“Thank you, my lord. Only I must ask that you excuse me from attending Richard’s hall, as I must go to make my own as fit for you as I may. I will ask John to send my message.”

“Very well. I shall come to you there, when you ask for me. Remember! In seven days’ time I shall have the falcon crown of Valun set upon me in the temple.”

“By your leave, my lord.” Without elaborating, Robert took the old man and departed from the others.

At Robert’s departure, Richard took the lead as he and Valun rode through the city and out through the eastern gate toward Richard’s ancestral hall of Longfurrow, which was situated nearly a day’s ride away. They rode in silence. Richard was evidently worried by the thought of what he might find at home; Valun, seeing this, did not trouble him with trivial speech. After some time, they came upon what seemed to be a tall stake set firmly into the earth. They studied it for some time; Richard looking more closely than Valun.

A minute passed in silence, while Richard, dismounted, studied the post, and Valun remained seated upon his horse. Straightening up to full height, Richard stepped across to Valun and announced “My lord, on the other side of that post lies the estate of my ancestors. It falls upon me to welcome you, which I do with all my heart.”

Valun took a long look out at the green, half-wild, fields before him, which nature had clearly reclaimed some years ago. Hearing the sigh behind Richard’s words, he struggled not to show one himself as he replied “I accept your offer, and I hope likewise that all my house may find like hospitality on your estate.”

Mounting and spurring his horse, Richard replied “If it came to that, it would be a dark day indeed for our country. If you will allow me, lord, it would be better if I were to continue from here alone. I shall return for you in good time.”

“Do what you must, my friend. I can see that you are suffering.”

Saluting his king, Richard rode forward alone.

He rode slowly, worried at what he might find, as Valun had guessed. As he rode, he sang an old song which his father had taught him years ago. He had a fine tenor voice which carried well.

“The time will come

when you will know

that what is old

must go it’s way



What is new

must take it’s place

and gain the praise

that once was theirs



But one command

above all others

you must obey

honor the old as kings

for they know the way”



Richard’s song had carried him in sight of his home, Longfurrow hall. His fears were made manifest. The hall that had hosted many an extravagant feast in Valun II’s time (for the Longfurrow ancestors had been immensely rich) had fallen into ruin. Moss was growing on the walls, both inside and out. A part of the roof had fallen in years ago, and what was left was now home to many small birds, who flitted in and out unhindered. Most of the windows seemed to have been shattered by vandals; the glass of several was strewn over much of the floor of the great hall, which Richard now entered, marveling that so much of the building had remained standing and taking it as a testament to the architectural mastery of a Longfurrow lost in the mists of time.

Inside, Richard called a few names of his family, not expecting to get any answer, but doing it almost instinctively. Crossing the hall, he mounted the dais to the spot where his father’s chair had once stood, where it was his right to sit in his time. Standing on that spot, looking out over his ruined inheritance, overcame Richard’s last defenses. He began to weep.

As Richard and Valun approached Longfurrow hall, Robert made his way to his own family estate, which was close by the coast. His ride was not as long as that of the others’, but it did nothing to lessen the agony of seeing what he found there, or rather, what he did not find there. Being more retentive than Richard, Robert did not need a sign-post to tell him that he had come home. However, when he arrived at the spot where Trondale Hall had once stood, he did not find even one sign that there had ever been a building on the site. Grass had grown wildly, so much so that it was tangled and hard to walk through without stumbling.

Desperate to find something which might provide some relief, even if it were only a burnt, rotten stick which crumbled to ash as soon as he touched it, Robert dismounted and began to walk through the ant’s jungle which had once been his home. Several feet within the space, he trod on something which, even after all the intervening years, did not feel like earth alone.

Lowering himself onto one knee, Robert reached down into the tangled roots and, after some digging to uncover it, found what he had stepped on. It was the rusted hilt of a broadsword. A rusted and jagged blade three inches long extended from it. Placing both hands on the hilt, Robert leaned his head forward until his forehead was resting on the end. He remained in that position for several seconds.

And he might have stayed there for several minutes, and possibly even fallen asleep there, if not for the shadow that moved over him after those few seconds. Having seen it, he leapt to his feet, brandishing the broken sword as if it were newly made. It was a strong, swift, stroke which would have slain the newcomer if they had not just as quickly flung up a dagger, which clashed against the old sword and knocked it aside, just enough that the sword passed closely over their head.

Robert recovered quickly from the block, and soon brought his blade back for another strike. It was only as he did this that he got a real look at his adversary. At the sight, he froze.

A girl of nineteen stood before him. At full height, she came just short of Robert’s six feet. Her brown hair fell below her shoulders. Her dress was plain and serviceable, and she was obviously accustomed to field labor. Trying to sound fierce, she cried “Stand down or die! Fie upon you for a grave robber!”

Robert was shocked by this reception, having by this time recognized the girl as his sister Anne. Dropping the sword, he said “I stand down then. I, Robert Trondale, called by my friends the Rock, am simply glad to have found some of my family alive.”

Snatching up the sword, Anne laughed, her tone heavy with sarcasm. “Ha. Tell me another riddle, trickster. My brother Robert is long gone from us. We survive as best we may. What are you really here for? As for this, I will take it to grace our mantlepiece. You are not worthy of the rust on this blade. In the hands of my father it died just before he did. Get off, desecrator. You are standing on my father’s grave!”

Robert’s reaction had gone from one of insult to one of horrified shock as he listened to his sister’s grim speech. At the last statement, he actually jumped backwards a full two feet. Recovering, he said “Would my knowledge that I am now standing on the top step, and you are standing three feet within the doors, of the first and only Trondale Hall, suffice to convince you that I am Robert Trondale, your brother, whom our father sent away at the age of seventeen to accompany the crown prince Valun III in exile?”

“It does suffice! You did live here, and so you are my brother!” The girl leapt across the spot she had designated as her father’s grave and embraced Robert joyfully. “Come, come! You must come home! Trondale Hall amounts to peasant’s hut these days, but I am sure we can find room for you.” Slipping past Robert, Anne was soon mounted on his horse. “Let us see if a rock can roll as fast as a horse can trot!” She rode away laughing gaily.

As Richard prepared, having released his grief, to retrace his steps and inform his king that there could, after all, be no welcome at his hall, he heard a sound which startled him. Drawing his sword, he called out to the empty hall “Stand and face me in my hall! If it is you, my lord, I beseech you to stay away or I may slay you!”

Richard did not get the loud, insulted, response to his challenge which he had been waiting for. He was confident in his skill and would have leapt with blade drawn at any man who entered. But the only response to his challenge was a red-haired boy of about sixteen, who had the look of a hardened scavenger. He was wearing clothes that might have once rivaled the suit of any page in court, but which were coated with grime and nearly consisted of more patches than original suit.

The boy spoke as if he had been insulted. “Who are you to come in here, standing on my father’s chair and calling yourself master of this hall? If you want to be master of this ruin, you can take it, but only if you fight me for it, for I am the lord of Longfurrow now!” Drawing a knife, the boy advanced.

Sheathing his own blade, Richard said “Lord of Longfurrow? Than the old lord is dead?” Stepping down from the dais, he moved closer to the boy.

Still holding the knife ready, the boy snarled “Aye. Dead and buried these ten years past, or so I was told by my mother, who’s also dead. Now tell me who you are so that I, James, lord of Longfurrow, may know who I have slain!”

Richard was nearly pleading with the boy now. “James? My brother? The one who could hardly tell his father’s chalice from a gardening trowel?” With a laugh, Richard added “I spent two long days looking for it, and it was only by a lucky chance that I ever did find it. Do you know me now?”

“Perhaps I do.” James conceded, relaxing. “Follow me, if you will.” Turning away, James disappeared into the passageway he had come out of. Richard followed him obediently, wondering exactly what he would find at the end of it.

At the end of the passage, which Richard remembered as leading to the chamber he had shared with James and James’ twin, William, James stopped and said “Sir, this is where I live. What I eat is no business of yours, and what I have brought you here to see... is this.” Stepping into the room, he removed from the folds of Richard’s bed, which he had evidently commandeered, a wooden sword about three feet long, which had the Longfurrow crest of a lion pulling a plow and the motto ‘strong at work or war’ etched into it.

Retracing his steps, James explained “My mother told me before she died that this was made for me by my brother, and that I should keep it, and never allow to break or otherwise fail, in his memory. If you are really my brother, you know why it was made.”

“I made this for you because you always had your eyes on my own, and I could not risk a boy of six years of age wielding a sharper blade.”

“That is what I heard from my mother. Welcome back, Richard, lord of Longfurrow.”

Stepping back, Richard sized up James (who was clearly going to be above six feet before he finished growing, as he had already nearly reached Richard’s shoulder) nodded cheerfully, and said “What you eat is no business of mine, is it? You certainly seem to have done well for yourself. But bring out what victuals you can spare, for I have asked the king to dine with me here.”

It was James’s turn to back away. He seemed ready to attack Richard as he spat “You invited that dog here? You, sir, are a disgrace to the name of Longfurrow! Did you not know that ‘man’ ordered my father slain and my house burnt! My father fought until he was dragged away in chains! The rest of my family was driven away from here, because of that king! And you dare to ask for his presence here? Be off! I, and not you, am the lord of Longfurrow, and so shall I remain!”

“James! The true king has returned! I was sent away to guard him! He has driven away the usurper and claimed his throne!”

“Prove that the king has come again! Prove that a Valun is upon the throne again! Else you have no claim on our land if I contest it!”

“I shall! He has come here, and you shall see!”

“He can not prove it to me even if I see him with my eyes! I do not remember seeing him or his father!”

“James! I, at least have proved myself to you! If you can not believe me, than who? How can it be proved to you if you will not take the word of the one who says he is a Valun, as you do not remember him by sight?”

Richard turned away from his vengeful brother and left as quickly as he could without appearing to hurry. He crossed the hall without stopping and found his horse grazing contentedly in the grass just outside. Taking up the reins, Richard led the horse to a nearby pond and allowed it a long drink before swinging himself aboard and starting the long ride back to where Valun was still waiting.

The better part of an hour later, Richard rejoined Valun close by the post at which they had separated. Richard reined his steed in sharply and addressed Valun apologetically. “I am afraid, my lord, that there can be no proper welcome in my hall.” He watched as Valun’s annoyance began to show in his face. “But, my lord, before I am disgraced, let me say that there can be no welcome in my hall because I have no hall.”

“You have no hall?”

“The usurper put it to the torch when he slew my father. I have one brother left alive, and he is convinced that you are the usurper. I... did not explain myself well.”

“He shall see my father’s letter. That is all I have.”

“As you wish, my lord.”

At about the time that Richard was meeting his brother James, John was meeting his sister on the site of their hall. It will be recalled that the Trondale heirs had since begun to run back to their house, which they soon reached.

Smiling widely as she slipped off Robert’s horse, Anne said “I wish we could surprise them, but we mustn’t do that. Mother might die of shock.” She hurried off through the small garden to the peasant’s hut in which the family obviously lived. Robert could see a thin spiral of smoke rising from the hole in the edge of the roof. He did not wait long before following his sister into the house.

As he entered, he took the scene in at a glance. There was his mother sitting in a rocking chair close by the fire, over which hung a pot which smelled like stew. There was Anne, standing over her mother and talking excitedly, evidently explaining. There were his two younger brothers, wrestling in the corner; Robert could see that they got along well. And there was his younger sister, playing quietly at the table with some simple dolls. She had not yet been born when he left. As she was closest, he approached her first. Sliding into a seat at the table, he spoke.

“Hello. What’s your name?”

“Won’t tell you. Mother said we could never tell our names.” She answered nonchalantly, as if this were simply a fact of life that the strange man had yet to understand.

“Well, what have you got there?”

“Well” explained the girl, proffering one of the nondescript dolls “This man’s tired of doing the chores, and wants to go to the tavern and talk, so he’s angry at his wife because she won’t do all the chores for him.”

Robert smiled widely and snorted with laughter as he took the doll. “So he wants to go to the tavern, does he? Instead of doing his chores like he should?”

“That’s right. But his wife doesn’t like that, so now she’s holding a frying pan and saying she’s going to make him do the chores.”

“All right then” said Robert, pushing the ‘angry man’ off to one side. “He’s gone off to do the chores now.”

“All right. And his wife has gone out too, because she wants to go to the market and buy lots of useless things.” the little girl added with a laugh.

Robert saw that Anne was coming toward him, so he rose from the table and went to meet her. “How is she?” They asked each other simultaneously, and then, in the next moment, they answered each other with “Very friendly” and “She doesn’t believe it”

Stepping over to the hearth, Robert said “Mother, look up. I am your son Robert, and I have come home.”

His mother spoke softly. “It can’t be. Robert was taken away years ago. But then, so was my husband, after he fought on the steps until his sword broke. Perhaps you are Robert, for I saw no sign that he had died.”

With a glance, Robert saw by Anne’s expression that she had never been told that their father had been taken alive. He stepped over to catch her as she nearly fainted. “Believe me, mother, for I speak the truth. I am your son, Robert Trondale Eric’s son. I have returned, and with me came the true king, the prince Valun III.”

Robert’s speech had startled the two boys, and they were now standing and gaping at him, stunned. They spoke in unison. “Robert? The one who got stolen away? You’re him? Really?”

Robert admonished himself for not having realized by now that his siblings, for some reason best explained by his dead father, had never been told that he had been ordered to leave. Stepping over to the boys, he said “Yes, I am really Robert. I grew strong like this from spending years as a slave in a deep mine. Not many of us survived. Don’t you two have jobs in the city?”

“Yes. But the master closed the shop for a holiday.”

“What holiday?”

“Someone said it was the day of the king’s homecoming.”

“It is true. The king returned yesterday. But he does not wish a holiday for a week now, when he is crowned.”

“Well... But...”

“I know what you would say, and I think I know who started that rumor. John, a boy who came with us, though I objected. he is already spreading trouble, it seems. Are the chores done? No? Than come with me and we shall finish them. Times will be better now, with a true king on the throne!” With that, he strode out the door.

Darkness had fallen over the Longfurrow estate. James had built a fire close beside the ruined manor, and he, Richard, and Valun now sat encircling it. The horses were picketed nearby. Valun sat quietly and watched the two brothers as they spoke between themselves, seeming not to notice that the king was in their company.

“Can you tell me what happened to cause this?”

“This being no house and family to come home to?”

“Exactly. What happened?”

“Well...I was only seven years old that day, remember, but I remember it very well. It was our birthday.”

Valun cut in, surprised. “You and your brother share that date?” he asked, facing Richard.

Richard explained. “No, my lord, my brother refers to his twin William, who, it seems, is dead.”

“No, Richard. William is not dead. At least, he was alive when he left about two years ago. Said he would make his fortune somewhere else.”

“But the rest? Is no one else alive? Tell the story.”

“Our mother had taken William and me to the city the previous day. There was a fair going on and we were allowed to choose whatever we wished for as our present, so long as wasn’t a blade. We stayed in the city through the night, for mother wanted to visit a friend.”

“Yes, but-”

“What did we find when we returned? That is both the easiest and the hardest part to tell. We found nearly everything, and at the same time, nothing. Someone had set a fire within the manor, and it was still high and hot when we arrived. We had seen that from beyond the boundary post. Mother hoped it was only a terrible accident, and hurried us forward. What we found when we got there does not bear the telling. It suffices to say that everyone was dead. It is a salve to our honor to know that our sisters were alongside Saul among those slain. It was apparent that several of the peasants had come to father’s aid, but there was no sign of him, though we looked everywhere. The few remaining peasants put out the fire for us, but when it was extinguished, mother dismissed them, for they feared for their lives. How we missed father on the way back here, or why the soldiers came after they let us live in peace for a year, will never be known.”

“How did you live?”

“Our friends smuggled things out to us when they were able. William and I taught ourselves to hunt.”

“Do you know” asked Valun “why so many men your brother’s age are gone?”

“Reprisals.” James answered, as if it was clear “I was told that there was a revolt when father was taken, and another not long after, when lord Trondale met the same fate. Though he got off easily compared to us. The Trondale family escaped.”

Richard and Valun stared at each other. Richard whispered “Lightly indeed. His family was not put to the sword.”

Though he was overcome by the tragedy of James’ story, Valun tried to remain calm and reasonable in his tone and words. “Richard, my friend, do not turn against Robert. Is it his fault that your father was wealthier, and so posed a greater threat? Is it his fault that perhaps his house was not attacked by night?”

Richard had no reply to this. He turned back to James. “Is there any more?”

“There is no more.” James answered, rising. “If my lord is ready to retire?”

By way of assent, Valun rose. The three made their way into the bedchamber James had previously shown Richard. James made a show of humility and demanded that Valun take the bed, while he and Richard made do on the floor, wrapped in blankets, as they were too long for the beds the twins had once used. To make Valun relax, James explained “Once every year, on the day of the attack, what friends remember me come by night and help in rebuilding this room so that I have some place to live. Rebuilding or destroying the whole house must wait for times of peace.”

From his position across the doorway, Richard called out “We shall have our house, for with the king comes peace.”

Valun agreed, under his breath so that the Longfurrows would not contradict him, for he was thinking of his own father. “As you have said, my friend. With the king comes peace...”

01 July 2011

The Price Of A Throne, Prologue (Valun) It Begins!

Prologue

It was late one summer afternoon in the land of Corridane. The King, Valun II, known as the Peacemaker, whose long hair had, startingly, grown gray long before its time, but in all other aspects proved  to be only as many as five and forty years of age, stood on the coast, watching proudly as the long-expected boat approached ever more closely. Already, he could make out his son, Valun III, waving excitedly from the prow. Little time was left before the pair were happily reunited.
When the younger Valun rejoined his father, one man from the boat stepped off with him. This man spoke to the king in the language of another place, but his satisfaction with the prince’s behavior among his people was evident. The king replied respectfully in the same tongue. A few moments later, the king and his son were left on the dock, watching the boat return from whence it had come.
Still looking after the boat, which was rapidly disappearing from their view, the king asked his son “Did you savor your time among them, as you should have? Do you remember everything they taught you?”
“Yes, father. I did and I do. They taught me many things.”
“Your teacher told me that you learned far faster than he had hoped you would. You have honorably upheld the tradition of the kings of Corridane. Every king of this land was taught by those men.”
“Will you send Valnor to them too?”
“I would if they would allow me to. They accept only the eldest.” the king replied as the two mounted horses he had brought for the ride homeward. “And now, it is time we were returning to the castle. Valnor is waiting for us.”
Setting spurs to their horses, the king and his son raced away inland, first the prince and then the king pulling ahead, laughing all the while.
Some weeks later, the King was waiting in the courtyard, sitting astride his dappled horse. He was waiting in order to speak to his elder son one final time before he left on a journey to another country. As he looked out upon the silent courtyard, the silence was broken by the younger of his two sons, who was sitting beside him on his own horse, and was beginning to show his impatience with the delay. “Father, Can you think why Valun has not come yet? You told him we were leaving today. He always comes to say his farewells before you leave. This isn’t like him.”
 Looking down at his younger son, Valnor, who was twelve years old and he deemed ready to accompany him on such a journey as this one was, the elder Valun replied “I am aware of that, my son, but he is fifteen years old now, and being the eldest, he will be the next to rise to the throne after I have gone to our fathers. It may be that, believing that I have already left; the courtiers have called him away to represent me at some function of theirs. But do not worry. We shall wait for him for a few moments more, and if he does not come, then we have no more time to spare, though he would shout after us.”
This placated Valnor, who promptly pulled his hand out of his horse’s mane and sat silently, striving against the urge to disturb his father’s peace once more.
Only moments later, their waiting was finally rewarded, as they saw Valun come running toward them from the castle. He cried out to them as he came. “Father! I was worried that I had missed you!” Then he paused, seeming to have only just noticed Valnor sitting astride his own steed close by. “Is Valnor going with you this time?”
“He is. The rulers of Brandia are our greatest allies. We shall both be safe there, and there I will leave Valnor to grow up far from anywhere that a father’s concessions could lead to sloth.”
Turning to his brother, Valun congratulated him, saying “You, a page at a foreign court? You will find excitement aplenty there, while I must remain here to do my best not to let ‘father’s concessions lead to sloth’ as he calls it. Make the best of it. It is the best recompense you will get for being my younger brother.” Slapping his brother on the back, he turned back to his father.
“Yes, you are right, my son, I do this for him because the throne is already yours, and I do not wish to see the two of you lose each other’s respect over something which can not be helped. He would not succeed you unless you had the misfortune to live out your life with no son to succeed you. Throughout his life, he will remain the Prince, and ever the Prince, of Corridane. Now, I can see that you mean to ask when I shall return. I will make the journey, determine the terms of your brother’s acceptance there, and turn home again after three days there. If I do not kill my horse, you can expect me to meet you in this courtyard within a month of this day.”
“I am thankful that you have told me this, father. But I will miss you all the days that you are gone.”
“I have told you. Those will not be many. And now if you have nothing else to ask, we must go. I meant to be out of the city by this time. I only remind you, listen to your officers, for they are wise, but if you are of such a mind, you will get what you would have quite easily. Do not abuse that, though. Farewell.” With the conclusion of these final words, the king wheeled his horse around to face the gates and rode away as Valnor followed closely behind him.
Valun ran ahead to open the gates for them, standing silently and watching as they disappeared into the city, making for the city gate, where one other man had been warned to be ready to open that gate for the king’s departure. Barely holding back his emotions, Valun ran back inside the castle, not stopping until he had found his way up to the highest point of the walls. There, aided by the design of the city, which mandated that no house’s roof could be less than three feet below the walls, he was soon able to make out the forms of his father and his brother riding away to the north. Suddenly, a feeling of dread came upon him as he stood there alone. “Father, why did you not let me go in Valnor’s place? I would have let him become king, even, to ensure your safety, could have protected you. But now, I am afraid I will not see you again. And you can no longer see me. Farewell.” With these depressed thoughts, he passed down into the castle, resolved to grow into his kingdom as quickly as need be.
It was not long after the king left that the officer in whom he had confided showed his true colors, declaring himself King over all Corridane. His first act after ascending the throne was to order Valun and his three closest friends exiled. He sent them out under guard at dawn one week after the king had departed.
The journey through the country was hard and long for the four boys, and by the time they had found their way to the city of Berunthia, which lay on the coast of the Deerunthin Lake, they were falling asleep in their saddles. On their arrival, a prosperous merchant who was still loyal to the old king took them in, sheltered them for a week, and then lent them his own boat crewed with his own employees. At Valun’s request, the crew turned the boat downriver.
Two days after they had passed the city of Carribeasa in Corridane, Valun and his friends disembarked on the shores of an unknown country. According to Valun’s request, the boat turned back then to return to their homeland. Three days later, they were picked up by a band of roving traders, who appeared to think them suitable to sell for labor.
Three days later, the party had reached the lakeside Ronaieran city of Taronga. Almost immediately upon being put up for sale, Valun and his three friends had all been sold to different merchants of the city. Valun, who went to a silversmith, was put to work as soon as he had entered the man’s shop. Knowing that he would not be believed, Valun did not attempt to convince anyone of his true position, instead following orders quickly and quietly. This situation continued for six years, as Valun’s skill in metalworking grew as he aged. In the sixth year of his apprenticeship to the silversmith, Valun, working secretly, completed his greatest work; the crown of Corridane.
In the same year, after he had completed the crown, Valun was chosen by his master to represent him in the annual fair which was held in the capital, Varaskel. Taking some of the finest work in his master’s shop, Valun made the journey and set up his stall in the capital as closely as he could to the castle.
On the second day, a steward of the King came down into the market to discover whether there was anything to be had which was fine enough for the King’s own use. As Valun’s stall was the nearest to the castle, he paused for a moment to look over the objects that were shown for sale.
Looking up from polishing one of the pieces, Valun inquired “Are you, Sir, a representative of the King?”
“I am.”
“I am glad to know that, for I have refrained from selling my finest pieces in hopes that His Majesty would condescend to buy from me.”
“Show them to me.”
At this, Valun produced several packages which were carefully wrapped in thick packaging. The steward opened one, examined every inch with the air of an expert, set it down, wrapped it once more, and declared “I have rarely seen work as fine as this, and of those, all are in the castle now. If every one of these,” he continued, placing his hands over the packages “is as fine as this one, the King will buy all, now. How much do you ask for them?”
“I value them at twenty Rodines each.”
“You are cheating yourself! Why, the one piece I have seen is worth as many as forty!”
“As you wish. I do not strive for more than I think fair.”
As the steward began to load the pieces into the arms of several servants who had followed him, he asked “Which of the men in your master’s shop made these? Was it the master himself?”
“It was I.”
“You? Why, you must come before the King! He will wish to know who has made these! A servant will stand guard over your stall. Come.”
Recognizing his chance, Valun rose and followed after the Steward.
An hour later, after the King had finally admitted him into his presence at the request of this steward, Valun stood before the King exhibiting the best of his work.
The King, who was as delighted with his work as his servant had been, asked Valun his name so that he might more easily hold his work before the other craftsmen of his realm. In answer, Valun remained silent, but reached into a bag in which he carried his tools, and drew out a document which he had kept carefully hidden ever since his exile at fifteen. He handed this over to the King.
The King, opening the scroll, read it, showing greater surprise every moment. For the benefit of his steward, who still stood nearby, he read it once more, aloud. “I, Valun the Second, King of Corridane, do hereby pledge by my honor that the bearer is the firstborn son and heir of myself and my Queen, to be honored in all courts as if acting in my stead.” When he had finished, he returned the scroll to Valun, who wrapped it tightly once more and restored it to its place.
“So that is why you have refused to show proper respect to me? Only be grateful that I did not decide to have you slain for it. It is your magnificent work which has saved you. But now, as you have revealed yourself to me, I presume that I am bound to release you from your bondage and offer you what you ask.”
“I thank you, my lord. I ask only for the release of my three friends from similar straits as I was in myself only an hour ago.”
“I agree to that. Only write the names of your friends, with orders for their release, and I will sign it and let you go. I hope you will enjoy living in my country.”
“I will. Once again, I thank you.” Handing the King the order, which he had written as the king was speaking, Valun took it back a moment later and left the king’s presence. In the days following his release, Valun rediscovered his three friends, released them, and took them away.
In the years which followed, Valun and his friends lived in honor at the royal court. On the day of his twenty-fifth birthday, Valun went before the Ronaieran monarch and announced “I am ready to return to my own country, my lord. I only need men who will consent to follow me and restore me to my throne. I would, of course, send them back to their own homes as soon as I was established.’
“Very well. I accept your request. Only wait for a week.”
“I thank you. You have ever been agreeable to us.”
One week later, the King presented Valun with temporary authority over ten thousand men, to aid him in reclaiming his throne. Being eager to start, Valun left that day, leading the men who had agreed to follow him.
Two weeks later, Valun and the Ronaierans had arrived at the gates of Corrandion, forced them open, and pushed their way through the streets until they reached the gates of the castle, which they also forced. Once inside, Valun, followed only by his three friends and five others, searched through the castle until he found the false servant, whose name was Damrod, in the King’s private room. Grabbing him by the collar, Valun threw him from the room, exclaiming “Get this foul double-crosser out of my land. Let it be known that if anyone sees him within my borders after a week, they are to kill him at that moment.”
           The prologue continues in my interrupting post of Jan. 6, 2012