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The Gray Tower
© 2014 by Walter Reimer
(This is a sequel to The Black Chapel. Reading the earlier story isn’t really necessary, but you may find it useful. Just saying.)
Art by
whitearabmare
12.
Eighteen years earlier:
The eight-year-old kit edged closer to the door, pressing one ear against the gap between the door and the frame to hear what her father and mother were saying. Earlier in the day a group of the King’s own guards had arrived at the farm. Words were exchanged with her father.
Halvrika was too far away to hear, but her father looked angry as he walked back to the house and quickly returned, carrying the flag that bore her family’s crest. The banner was tightly furled around its staff as her father gave it to the leader of the detail. The ferret took it and the troops rode off.
Her father walked back to the house. Halvrika thought that his behavior was odd; Thegn Ranol never slouched like that, or walked with his head bowed.
All she knew was that something very bad had happened.
Now she heard her mother Charila saying, “It’ll be all right, Ranol. The King will relent.”
“No, he won’t,” she heard her father say. “The Issem are like that – they have long memories.” A sigh. “Everything’s gone . . . Frali will not inherit any title or the demesne; neither he nor Dejem will ever hold any military rank higher than serjeant – “
“And Halvrika?” The kit gave a start. Her mother was crying.
“No one of any note will want to marry her now,” her father murmured. “That’s how powerful a Denunciation is, my love.” A pause. “Do you recall that popinjay from the Order, who came by a few months ago?”
Charila sniffled, and blew her nose. “Marok, I think?”
“That’s the one. We should send someone – before it’s too late . . . “
King Aroki glowered at the raccoon. “Your father is Denounced, and is not welcome at Court.” He glared at his daughter. “Did you have any knowledge of this?”
“No, Father, I didn’t,” Trasta replied. She gave her friend a troubled look.
“Your Majesty,” Halvrika said, “it has been eighteen years since my father’s mistake on the battlefield that led to his Denunciation and the confiscation of my family’s banner. Please, isn’t that long enough?”
The buck frowned at her impertinence. “Your father’s mistake – “
“Won the Battle of Two Fords, Majesty.”
The King snorted. “Don’t interrupt me, girl. He disobeyed my orders, and led his troops in defiance of the plan he and the others agreed to.” He sat back. “The Denunciation remains. Choose another boon.”
Halvrika’s banded tail swished. “Your Majesty, you swore before Azos that you would grant whatever I asked, so long as it was within your authority as King. This is within your authority. Would you be forsworn?”
The buck almost crested. “What does a member of the Order care about oaths sworn to the Pantheon?’
What she said next did make him crest. “Oaths sworn to the Pantheon, it is true, are of little concern to the Order, Majesty – but it is said that Azos sees all, and is the Guardian of Oaths.” She gazed up at the imposing buck on the carved granite seat. “I am a loyal Shugan, and I would not see the King be an oathbreaker.”
King Aroki sat there, gazing at the sow, his teeth audibly grinding as he tried to stare her down. Finally he growled, “Trasta.”
The doe suddenly knelt on one knee. “Majesty.”
“Fetch the . . . the Hringurhali arms, and bring me a scribe.”
Trasta nodded and got to her hooves. “At once, Sire.” Her hooves tapped on the stone floor as she practically ran past Halvrika, who remained kneeling.
The raccoon felt very small under the King’s stern regard. The buck rested an elbow on the throne and propped his chin on his fist. “You resemble him.”
“I am his daughter, Majesty.”
“I thought as much. How old were you when - ?”
“Eight, Majesty.”
“I see.” Silence reigned until Trasta returned with a staff, covered in a canvas sleeve. A scribe trailed behind her, bearing a small desk. He sat down, placed the desk on his lap, and got out parchment, ink and quill.
Aroki IV stood and said to the scribe, “Are you ready?”
The feline nodded, quill poised.
“It is my decision, made under oath to the Guardian of Oaths, Azos King of all the Pantheon, to return to Thegn Ranol of the Hringurhali the banner of his family.” Trasta threw off the canvas cover and unrolled the banner, revealing the family blazon of wheat gold and grass green, with a black paw in the center. “Let Thegn Ranol retake his place at Court, and the King calls him to his side once more. I, Aroki who is fourth of that name, say these things. Done in Shuganath, date, and so on. Make sure it’s sealed.” The feline nodded as he finished writing out the King’s words. “Trasta.”
“Father?”
“You will accompany the guard who returns this banner. Adept?”
Halvrika bowed low from her kneeling position, looking down at the floor as she fought back tears. “Majesty?”
“You will accompany the Princess, to witness that the King of Shuga keeps his oaths faithfully.”
“I shall, Majesty.”
“Go.” The raccoon hastily stood, bowed, and walked out.
Halvrika was halfway across the courtyard when she heard hooves striking the stone behind her. “’Rika! Wait!” She turned to see Trasta practically pronking after her, and she started to giggle at the sight. She waited until the doe had caught up with her, and the Princess asked, “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“What in – “ She looked around and lowered her voice. “What in Valla’s Name possessed you to cross my father like that?” she demanded.
Halvrika replied, “He asked me to name a reward.”
“Yes, but revoking a Denunciation? There hasn’t been anything like it in over sixty years - ”
The raccoon shrugged. “Why not? I can’t ask for money or power, and I don’t think he would have granted me your paw in marriage – “
“What?!”
“I did think about it, though,” and Halvrika winked at her.
Trasta had an exasperated expression. “I almost wish I could marry you, just so I could put you over my knee and spank you.”
Halvrika gave her a coy smile. “You can do that anytime you like, My Princess.”
“Don’t think I won’t.” They started walking toward the gate. “We’ll be riding out tomorrow morning. Be here at the gate when the bells call the first hour of the day.”
Halvrika nodded, and turned to the doe as the gate opened for her. She quickly mouthed I love you before walking off.
Trasta watched her go. I love you, too, ‘Rika, she thought, but you’re going to turn my fur gray. She suddenly chuckled aloud and turned back to the Keep.
The next morning was cloudy, promising rain before noon as the Princess and ten of her personal guard rode out of the Keep’s main gate. They drew to a halt as the Princess spotted Halvrika standing a short distance from the opening. “Adept! Are you willing to ride with me?”
“I’d be honored, Your Highness,” and Halvrika smiled impishly. “I can’t ride by myself, as you know – I keep falling off!” Several of the guards laughed.
Trasta reached down and helped the more slightly-built raccoon up the side of the war-beast, the big reptile snorting and hissing as the Adept settled herself. The elk doe signaled to two of the guards, who uncased the banners they held.
Passers-by bowed slightly at the sight of the diagonal tricolor of the Royal House. The embroidered crown and feather signified that the guard detail escorted the King’s Heir. A few onlookers murmured at the sight of the second banner, but none recognized it.
“The Heralds will announce that the ban’s been revoked after we leave,” Trasta explained. “One’s already gone on ahead, so your father will have time to get ready.”
“Good.” The sow’s ears were drooping a bit.
“Something bothering you?”
“It’s nothing – ow!” Halvrika rubbed the back of her head as she twisted around to glare at Trasta. “That hurt.”
The doe raised a mail-clad finger. “That was just a poke. Now, tell me.”
“I went back home after – after being raised to Adept,” Halvrika said. “Father . . . didn’t want to see me.”
“Angry?”
The sow shook her head. “Ashamed, I think. He and Mother were sure that I’d never be able to marry into a noble family after the Denunciation, so they called a Master to test me. I was admitted into the Order.” She sighed, looking at the Hringurhali banner beside the royal colors. “Mother, at least, was proud of me.”
“I think he’ll be proud of you,” Trasta said. “You worked hard, and suffered, to get the ban lifted.”
“He always wanted to have Dejem or Frali get it lifted by valor in the field.”
“What you did,” the Princess said quietly, lowering her tone so only the raccoon could hear it, “was brave, worthy of any soldier.”
“Thank you,” Halvrika whispered. They rode in silence for a few minutes before she said, “Master Maffa will be training me in combat arts soon. If I’m going to get in any more trouble, I need to defend myself better.”
“Good idea.”
It was midafternoon when the detail came to the boundary cairn marking the Hringurhali demesne. One guard raised a horn and blew it, and ears twitched at an answering horn from the farmhouse beyond the next hill. After waiting for a moment, Trasta goaded her war-beast forward and led the guard onto the property.
The fields were well-maintained and the grain stalks were nodding low, encumbered by heavy heads of ripening wheat. “It’s looking very good,” Trasta remarked.
“Yes. It’ll be a good harvest,” Halvrika added.
The family were waiting at the farmhouse gate, with Ranol in clean livery that bore the family colors differenced with a thegn’s circlet and a smaller escutcheon bearing the Issem tricolor. Her mother Charila was dressed in her best, wiping tears from her eyes. Her brothers stood nearby, with the Royal Herald. All three were in uniform.
Trasta raised a paw, and the guard detail stopped. She held out a paw, and a serjeant gave her a scroll bearing the Great Seal of the realm. She unrolled it as Halvrika dismounted and stood a few paces away. “I bear a proclamation,” the Princess said in a loud and carrying tone, “a proclamation from the King my father, and no other.”
The raccoons all knelt. “To all worthy and loyal subjects of this realm, greeting. Let all who hear this know that I, Aroki who is fourth of that name, in the Name of Azos the Lord of the Silver Mountain, grant and return to Ranol of the Hringurhali his banner, title and station. Further, Thegn Ranol is to resume his place beside the King’s Majesty, to wield arms in battle as a leader of the hosts. The right of inheritance is furthermore returned unto the line of the Hringurhali, in return for their loyal and trusty service. So proclaim I, Aroki, King of Shuga; done in my Keep in the city of Shuganath upon the ninth day of Haress, and I call the Pantheon to witness.” Trasta turned the parchment around so that everyone could see the Great Seal on the document.
The guard holding the family banner rode forward and Halvrika’s oldest brother Frali stood to take it from the bull’s paws. He then moved to stand behind and to the right of his father.
Thegn Ranol stood up. He was stockier than his daughter, all of it muscle; the long years of the Denunciation had not defeated him. “Your Highness,” he said quietly, bowing. “What has caused the King your father to revoke my Denunciation?”
Trasta dismounted. “The King my father bestowed a boon upon your daughter, an Adept of the Order of the Surveillant Eye, for her valor and service to the realm.”
Ranol stiffened and stared at Halvrika, who gulped.
She had no need to use her Sight to read his thoughts or emotions, even as her mother Charila ran forward to hug her, tears beginning to flow.
She read surprise in her father’s eyes, yes. A touch of resentment.
And guilt.
© 2014 by Walter Reimer
(This is a sequel to The Black Chapel. Reading the earlier story isn’t really necessary, but you may find it useful. Just saying.)
Art by
whitearabmare12.
Eighteen years earlier:
The eight-year-old kit edged closer to the door, pressing one ear against the gap between the door and the frame to hear what her father and mother were saying. Earlier in the day a group of the King’s own guards had arrived at the farm. Words were exchanged with her father.
Halvrika was too far away to hear, but her father looked angry as he walked back to the house and quickly returned, carrying the flag that bore her family’s crest. The banner was tightly furled around its staff as her father gave it to the leader of the detail. The ferret took it and the troops rode off.
Her father walked back to the house. Halvrika thought that his behavior was odd; Thegn Ranol never slouched like that, or walked with his head bowed.
All she knew was that something very bad had happened.
Now she heard her mother Charila saying, “It’ll be all right, Ranol. The King will relent.”
“No, he won’t,” she heard her father say. “The Issem are like that – they have long memories.” A sigh. “Everything’s gone . . . Frali will not inherit any title or the demesne; neither he nor Dejem will ever hold any military rank higher than serjeant – “
“And Halvrika?” The kit gave a start. Her mother was crying.
“No one of any note will want to marry her now,” her father murmured. “That’s how powerful a Denunciation is, my love.” A pause. “Do you recall that popinjay from the Order, who came by a few months ago?”
Charila sniffled, and blew her nose. “Marok, I think?”
“That’s the one. We should send someone – before it’s too late . . . “
King Aroki glowered at the raccoon. “Your father is Denounced, and is not welcome at Court.” He glared at his daughter. “Did you have any knowledge of this?”
“No, Father, I didn’t,” Trasta replied. She gave her friend a troubled look.
“Your Majesty,” Halvrika said, “it has been eighteen years since my father’s mistake on the battlefield that led to his Denunciation and the confiscation of my family’s banner. Please, isn’t that long enough?”
The buck frowned at her impertinence. “Your father’s mistake – “
“Won the Battle of Two Fords, Majesty.”
The King snorted. “Don’t interrupt me, girl. He disobeyed my orders, and led his troops in defiance of the plan he and the others agreed to.” He sat back. “The Denunciation remains. Choose another boon.”
Halvrika’s banded tail swished. “Your Majesty, you swore before Azos that you would grant whatever I asked, so long as it was within your authority as King. This is within your authority. Would you be forsworn?”
The buck almost crested. “What does a member of the Order care about oaths sworn to the Pantheon?’
What she said next did make him crest. “Oaths sworn to the Pantheon, it is true, are of little concern to the Order, Majesty – but it is said that Azos sees all, and is the Guardian of Oaths.” She gazed up at the imposing buck on the carved granite seat. “I am a loyal Shugan, and I would not see the King be an oathbreaker.”
King Aroki sat there, gazing at the sow, his teeth audibly grinding as he tried to stare her down. Finally he growled, “Trasta.”
The doe suddenly knelt on one knee. “Majesty.”
“Fetch the . . . the Hringurhali arms, and bring me a scribe.”
Trasta nodded and got to her hooves. “At once, Sire.” Her hooves tapped on the stone floor as she practically ran past Halvrika, who remained kneeling.
The raccoon felt very small under the King’s stern regard. The buck rested an elbow on the throne and propped his chin on his fist. “You resemble him.”
“I am his daughter, Majesty.”
“I thought as much. How old were you when - ?”
“Eight, Majesty.”
“I see.” Silence reigned until Trasta returned with a staff, covered in a canvas sleeve. A scribe trailed behind her, bearing a small desk. He sat down, placed the desk on his lap, and got out parchment, ink and quill.
Aroki IV stood and said to the scribe, “Are you ready?”
The feline nodded, quill poised.
“It is my decision, made under oath to the Guardian of Oaths, Azos King of all the Pantheon, to return to Thegn Ranol of the Hringurhali the banner of his family.” Trasta threw off the canvas cover and unrolled the banner, revealing the family blazon of wheat gold and grass green, with a black paw in the center. “Let Thegn Ranol retake his place at Court, and the King calls him to his side once more. I, Aroki who is fourth of that name, say these things. Done in Shuganath, date, and so on. Make sure it’s sealed.” The feline nodded as he finished writing out the King’s words. “Trasta.”
“Father?”
“You will accompany the guard who returns this banner. Adept?”
Halvrika bowed low from her kneeling position, looking down at the floor as she fought back tears. “Majesty?”
“You will accompany the Princess, to witness that the King of Shuga keeps his oaths faithfully.”
“I shall, Majesty.”
“Go.” The raccoon hastily stood, bowed, and walked out.
Halvrika was halfway across the courtyard when she heard hooves striking the stone behind her. “’Rika! Wait!” She turned to see Trasta practically pronking after her, and she started to giggle at the sight. She waited until the doe had caught up with her, and the Princess asked, “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“What in – “ She looked around and lowered her voice. “What in Valla’s Name possessed you to cross my father like that?” she demanded.
Halvrika replied, “He asked me to name a reward.”
“Yes, but revoking a Denunciation? There hasn’t been anything like it in over sixty years - ”
The raccoon shrugged. “Why not? I can’t ask for money or power, and I don’t think he would have granted me your paw in marriage – “
“What?!”
“I did think about it, though,” and Halvrika winked at her.
Trasta had an exasperated expression. “I almost wish I could marry you, just so I could put you over my knee and spank you.”
Halvrika gave her a coy smile. “You can do that anytime you like, My Princess.”
“Don’t think I won’t.” They started walking toward the gate. “We’ll be riding out tomorrow morning. Be here at the gate when the bells call the first hour of the day.”
Halvrika nodded, and turned to the doe as the gate opened for her. She quickly mouthed I love you before walking off.
Trasta watched her go. I love you, too, ‘Rika, she thought, but you’re going to turn my fur gray. She suddenly chuckled aloud and turned back to the Keep.
The next morning was cloudy, promising rain before noon as the Princess and ten of her personal guard rode out of the Keep’s main gate. They drew to a halt as the Princess spotted Halvrika standing a short distance from the opening. “Adept! Are you willing to ride with me?”
“I’d be honored, Your Highness,” and Halvrika smiled impishly. “I can’t ride by myself, as you know – I keep falling off!” Several of the guards laughed.
Trasta reached down and helped the more slightly-built raccoon up the side of the war-beast, the big reptile snorting and hissing as the Adept settled herself. The elk doe signaled to two of the guards, who uncased the banners they held.
Passers-by bowed slightly at the sight of the diagonal tricolor of the Royal House. The embroidered crown and feather signified that the guard detail escorted the King’s Heir. A few onlookers murmured at the sight of the second banner, but none recognized it.
“The Heralds will announce that the ban’s been revoked after we leave,” Trasta explained. “One’s already gone on ahead, so your father will have time to get ready.”
“Good.” The sow’s ears were drooping a bit.
“Something bothering you?”
“It’s nothing – ow!” Halvrika rubbed the back of her head as she twisted around to glare at Trasta. “That hurt.”
The doe raised a mail-clad finger. “That was just a poke. Now, tell me.”
“I went back home after – after being raised to Adept,” Halvrika said. “Father . . . didn’t want to see me.”
“Angry?”
The sow shook her head. “Ashamed, I think. He and Mother were sure that I’d never be able to marry into a noble family after the Denunciation, so they called a Master to test me. I was admitted into the Order.” She sighed, looking at the Hringurhali banner beside the royal colors. “Mother, at least, was proud of me.”
“I think he’ll be proud of you,” Trasta said. “You worked hard, and suffered, to get the ban lifted.”
“He always wanted to have Dejem or Frali get it lifted by valor in the field.”
“What you did,” the Princess said quietly, lowering her tone so only the raccoon could hear it, “was brave, worthy of any soldier.”
“Thank you,” Halvrika whispered. They rode in silence for a few minutes before she said, “Master Maffa will be training me in combat arts soon. If I’m going to get in any more trouble, I need to defend myself better.”
“Good idea.”
It was midafternoon when the detail came to the boundary cairn marking the Hringurhali demesne. One guard raised a horn and blew it, and ears twitched at an answering horn from the farmhouse beyond the next hill. After waiting for a moment, Trasta goaded her war-beast forward and led the guard onto the property.
The fields were well-maintained and the grain stalks were nodding low, encumbered by heavy heads of ripening wheat. “It’s looking very good,” Trasta remarked.
“Yes. It’ll be a good harvest,” Halvrika added.
The family were waiting at the farmhouse gate, with Ranol in clean livery that bore the family colors differenced with a thegn’s circlet and a smaller escutcheon bearing the Issem tricolor. Her mother Charila was dressed in her best, wiping tears from her eyes. Her brothers stood nearby, with the Royal Herald. All three were in uniform.
Trasta raised a paw, and the guard detail stopped. She held out a paw, and a serjeant gave her a scroll bearing the Great Seal of the realm. She unrolled it as Halvrika dismounted and stood a few paces away. “I bear a proclamation,” the Princess said in a loud and carrying tone, “a proclamation from the King my father, and no other.”
The raccoons all knelt. “To all worthy and loyal subjects of this realm, greeting. Let all who hear this know that I, Aroki who is fourth of that name, in the Name of Azos the Lord of the Silver Mountain, grant and return to Ranol of the Hringurhali his banner, title and station. Further, Thegn Ranol is to resume his place beside the King’s Majesty, to wield arms in battle as a leader of the hosts. The right of inheritance is furthermore returned unto the line of the Hringurhali, in return for their loyal and trusty service. So proclaim I, Aroki, King of Shuga; done in my Keep in the city of Shuganath upon the ninth day of Haress, and I call the Pantheon to witness.” Trasta turned the parchment around so that everyone could see the Great Seal on the document.
The guard holding the family banner rode forward and Halvrika’s oldest brother Frali stood to take it from the bull’s paws. He then moved to stand behind and to the right of his father.
Thegn Ranol stood up. He was stockier than his daughter, all of it muscle; the long years of the Denunciation had not defeated him. “Your Highness,” he said quietly, bowing. “What has caused the King your father to revoke my Denunciation?”
Trasta dismounted. “The King my father bestowed a boon upon your daughter, an Adept of the Order of the Surveillant Eye, for her valor and service to the realm.”
Ranol stiffened and stared at Halvrika, who gulped.
She had no need to use her Sight to read his thoughts or emotions, even as her mother Charila ran forward to hug her, tears beginning to flow.
She read surprise in her father’s eyes, yes. A touch of resentment.
And guilt.
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Cervine (Other)
Size 249 x 568px
File Size 21.2 kB
Listed in Folders
It is hard on a man to lose everything and then have it restored by a daughter whoes only use was an alliance through marriage. I'm sure he'll come around once the humility of his folly is understood.
What really troubles me is those kissing riding lizards! You'd need a towel every time you mounted one.
What really troubles me is those kissing riding lizards! You'd need a towel every time you mounted one.
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