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Listed in Folders
The Gray Tower
© 2015 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
Part 38.
Her mouth had gone dry, and she would have tottered on her hooves if she hadn’t already been on one knee.
She felt like someone had punched her in the stomach.
Hard.
No, Trasta thought.
The King’s words had been witnessed by the Queen and Duchess Rolna, who as head of the nobility of the realm had the right and authority to enforce the decree.
He can’t do this. “Father – “
Meki had gotten to his hooves and backed away, crossing his arms across his chest. His smile was bright enough to set fire to him.
It was something Trasta caught herself wishing for.
She stood as her father beckoned to her and she asked, “Father, why?”
“Mmy . . . decision, D-daughterrrr . . . Rrrolna agrees.” He paused to catch his breath and added, “Meki . . . knows more statecraft . . . “
“Statecraft?” the doe asked.
“Highness?” the Duchess asked. She gave Aroki a smile, and he gave her a lopsided one back along with a ‘go ahead’ gesture with his left paw. “The King and I discussed this, and I’ve spoken with the healers. His illness is such that it will take him a very long time to recover fully, if at all. Of the two of you, Meki has the greater knowledge of statecraft and of the Kingdom’s relations with its neighbors. Until Aro – er, the King – recovers, Meki shall be Regent.” The canine pulled her robes a bit closer around herself and looked at her brother. “Prince Meki.”
He stirred out of his reverie. “Duchess?”
“His Majesty will not be resigning the crown to you.”
The buck blinked. He looked at his father, who nodded, then at his mother. Finally he looked at Trasta.
Trasta suddenly wished Halvrika were here, or any other member of the Order. Preferably one who could read thoughts.
“I understand, Father,” Meki finally said. He looked like he wanted to argue, but was keeping it in check.
Azos be praised.
“Princess Trasta.”
“Your Grace.”
“Know that there were arguments in favor of you becoming Regent. However,” and the Duchess raised a paw as Trasta began to interrupt, “the King thinks that the stability of the Kingdom at this time requires that his best general be ready for action. You are favored by Luli and Valla, and your presence in the field will serve as a threat and a warning.”
“I see, Your Grace. Father?”
He blinked at her, and nodded.
She could see the concern, and love, in his eyes.
The doe bowed her head, then nodded. “I serve the Crown, the Kingdom and the Pantheon,” she intoned, repeating the oath of the Shugan Army.”
Aroki nodded, then gestured at Rolna. The canine femme nodded. “Prince Meki?”
“Yes, Your Grace?” Meki seemed curiously subdued now, as if the import and burden of his new responsibilities had just hit him.
Duchess Rolna stood up. “If you will accompany me, we will go to the King’s private office. There are documents you must read – and sign.” She paused. “Majesty?”
“Hunh?”
“We need to notify the other nobles.”
The King nodded jerkily, beckoning her closer. Rolna leaned over and put her ear close to the King’s muzzle. Trasta couldn’t hear what was being said, but Rolna straightened and said, “I’ll see to it personally, Majesty. Come along, Your Highness.” She and Meki left the room.
A paw came gently down on her shoulder, and she nearly flinched until she saw that it was Chassi. To his credit, the buck didn’t try to console her or, indeed, say anything. He took her paw, bowed to the King and Queen, and led the princess from the room.
Queen Falra watched them go, and as the door closed she asked her husband, “They make a fine couple, don’t they?”
King Aroki nodded as his left paw gripped his wife’s paws.
***
”Adept Hringurhali?”
“Arch-Adept Dinest.”
“Know, Adept, that the King has fallen ill. Prince Meki has been chosen as Regent, to rule in his father’s stead.”
“May the Writ guide us, Arch-Adept. Prince Meki has little love for us.”
“And less for thee, Adept. Thou art in the best place. Arch-Adept Kulorn hath charged me to bespeak thee thus, and tell thy father of the King’s illness. A messenger shall be sent, so he may know that thou art not speaking false.”
“Will the King recover, Arch-Adept?”
“Arch-Adept Jerofer . . . is unsure, Adept.” The connection through the Writ faded, and Halvrika opened her eyes. She was lying spread-eagled on her makeshift bed in the barn loft, staring up at the rafters above her. There had been a break in her training before midday, and she had gone there to relax.
So much for relaxation.
“Father,” she murmured.
Thegn Ranol frowned as she told him over lunch. Her mother simply stood, paw pressed to her mouth and a shocked look in her eyes. “Did Master Dinest say what happened?”
“No, Father. He said that you can expect a messenger.”
The boar nodded. It was traditional practice for the nobility to be told first of anything happening that affected the King or the ruling family. “And his son is Regent.”
“Yes, Father.”
Ranol nodded. “This changes nothing,” he declared. “You still have another four hours of sword drill before dinner.” He smiled at her, and she giggled. “And after dinner, I need to discuss this with you,” and he drew a small scroll from a pocket.
“What is it?”
“A list of tasks, given to me by Master Maffa.”
Halvrika’s face fell. “Oh.”
“Oh, don’t pout, girl,” Ranol chided. Have her a wry grin. “I seriously doubt she’d give you anything that you would be unable to do.’
“How well do you know Master Maffa, Father?”
“I knew her teacher much better than I know her,” Ranol admitted. “She was an Adept. Quite ruthless, too.”
“I know, Father.” Halvrika gazed down at her frugal meal. “I know.”
***
Another goblet flew through the air and struck the stone wall with a musical clang before clattering to the floor to join its fellows. Chassi had persuaded Dame Karalla and Padzi to leave, and now stood by the door as Trasta continued to fume.
He’d suggested that the pair hunt down Trasta’s chaplain, and they had both hustled off.
“Of all the bloody fucking miserable – “ The elk doe grabbed the end table and basically threw it over, grabbing it by one leg and kicking it until the lathed wood came loose in her paws. She struck the hapless table several times, spat at it, then hurled the length of wood straight at Chassi.
The Earl tipped his head to the right as the table leg struck the wall beside him. “I’m glad to see that you’re taking this well, Your Highness,” he said mildly.
“Is that all you have to say!?”
“No.” Trasta stared at him, still huffing short, sharp whistling snorts through her nose. He waited until she stopped snorting at him and the clacking of her hooves on the stone floor subsided. “The King your father made this decision, Trasta – “
“He’s sick,” she grated. “He may not be in his right mind.”
The red deer buck raised a paw. “I agree. But! The healers say he is sound of mind, and your mother and Duchess Rolna seem to think so as well.” He paused as someone knocked on the door, and he opened it to let Saragi Lefra into the room. The Priest of Luli folded his thick arms across his chest.
“Has she calmed down yet?” the old wolf asked.
Chassi replied, “So far. I am trying to reason with her.”
“Scant chance of that, lad. You see, an adherent of Luli or Valla sees everything in life as a fight. Trasta looks on her relationship with her brother as a war.”
“That’s right,” Trasta growled, “this is only a setback. I expect to lose battles.”
Chassi nodded. “So when you lose a battle, what do you do?”
The elk doe looked unhappy. After a few moments she looked away, her shoulders sagging slightly. “I learn from the loss,” she mumbled, “and attack again, applying what I’ve learned.”
The buck thought for a long moment, then licked his lips and asked, “And would it give you a tactical advantage by working with – no, not that, cooperating – with your brother?” She glared at him and he said, “Your father has chosen to keep things the same for the time being, for the stability of the realm, Trasta. Are you going to undermine that?” He stepped forward and put a paw on her shoulder. “Are you going to become a traitor, Trasta?”
Had she had a sword in her paw, she would have stabbed him, then and there.
As she stared at him, Lefra tucked his paws into his priest’s robes. “This is a test of your faith, my daughter. As you consider, remember that Luli and Valla value loyalty, as well as the strength of one’s arm.”
Trasta stood there, fists clenched, until finally her lower lip started to tremble.
Chassi hadn’t been aware that he’d been holding his breath.
He had his breath knocked out of him as the elk doe suddenly grabbed him in a bone-cracking hug, her face buried in her shoulder as she started crying. “Oh gods, Chassi,” she sobbed, “he – he looked so weak . . . so frail . . . “
He shushed her, holding her close and stroking her hair with a paw.
Lefra smiled at the Earl, nodded, and slipped out of the room as the buck continued to comfort the doe.
© 2015 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
whitearabmarePart 38.
Her mouth had gone dry, and she would have tottered on her hooves if she hadn’t already been on one knee.
She felt like someone had punched her in the stomach.
Hard.
No, Trasta thought.
The King’s words had been witnessed by the Queen and Duchess Rolna, who as head of the nobility of the realm had the right and authority to enforce the decree.
He can’t do this. “Father – “
Meki had gotten to his hooves and backed away, crossing his arms across his chest. His smile was bright enough to set fire to him.
It was something Trasta caught herself wishing for.
She stood as her father beckoned to her and she asked, “Father, why?”
“Mmy . . . decision, D-daughterrrr . . . Rrrolna agrees.” He paused to catch his breath and added, “Meki . . . knows more statecraft . . . “
“Statecraft?” the doe asked.
“Highness?” the Duchess asked. She gave Aroki a smile, and he gave her a lopsided one back along with a ‘go ahead’ gesture with his left paw. “The King and I discussed this, and I’ve spoken with the healers. His illness is such that it will take him a very long time to recover fully, if at all. Of the two of you, Meki has the greater knowledge of statecraft and of the Kingdom’s relations with its neighbors. Until Aro – er, the King – recovers, Meki shall be Regent.” The canine pulled her robes a bit closer around herself and looked at her brother. “Prince Meki.”
He stirred out of his reverie. “Duchess?”
“His Majesty will not be resigning the crown to you.”
The buck blinked. He looked at his father, who nodded, then at his mother. Finally he looked at Trasta.
Trasta suddenly wished Halvrika were here, or any other member of the Order. Preferably one who could read thoughts.
“I understand, Father,” Meki finally said. He looked like he wanted to argue, but was keeping it in check.
Azos be praised.
“Princess Trasta.”
“Your Grace.”
“Know that there were arguments in favor of you becoming Regent. However,” and the Duchess raised a paw as Trasta began to interrupt, “the King thinks that the stability of the Kingdom at this time requires that his best general be ready for action. You are favored by Luli and Valla, and your presence in the field will serve as a threat and a warning.”
“I see, Your Grace. Father?”
He blinked at her, and nodded.
She could see the concern, and love, in his eyes.
The doe bowed her head, then nodded. “I serve the Crown, the Kingdom and the Pantheon,” she intoned, repeating the oath of the Shugan Army.”
Aroki nodded, then gestured at Rolna. The canine femme nodded. “Prince Meki?”
“Yes, Your Grace?” Meki seemed curiously subdued now, as if the import and burden of his new responsibilities had just hit him.
Duchess Rolna stood up. “If you will accompany me, we will go to the King’s private office. There are documents you must read – and sign.” She paused. “Majesty?”
“Hunh?”
“We need to notify the other nobles.”
The King nodded jerkily, beckoning her closer. Rolna leaned over and put her ear close to the King’s muzzle. Trasta couldn’t hear what was being said, but Rolna straightened and said, “I’ll see to it personally, Majesty. Come along, Your Highness.” She and Meki left the room.
A paw came gently down on her shoulder, and she nearly flinched until she saw that it was Chassi. To his credit, the buck didn’t try to console her or, indeed, say anything. He took her paw, bowed to the King and Queen, and led the princess from the room.
Queen Falra watched them go, and as the door closed she asked her husband, “They make a fine couple, don’t they?”
King Aroki nodded as his left paw gripped his wife’s paws.
***
”Adept Hringurhali?”
“Arch-Adept Dinest.”
“Know, Adept, that the King has fallen ill. Prince Meki has been chosen as Regent, to rule in his father’s stead.”
“May the Writ guide us, Arch-Adept. Prince Meki has little love for us.”
“And less for thee, Adept. Thou art in the best place. Arch-Adept Kulorn hath charged me to bespeak thee thus, and tell thy father of the King’s illness. A messenger shall be sent, so he may know that thou art not speaking false.”
“Will the King recover, Arch-Adept?”
“Arch-Adept Jerofer . . . is unsure, Adept.” The connection through the Writ faded, and Halvrika opened her eyes. She was lying spread-eagled on her makeshift bed in the barn loft, staring up at the rafters above her. There had been a break in her training before midday, and she had gone there to relax.
So much for relaxation.
“Father,” she murmured.
Thegn Ranol frowned as she told him over lunch. Her mother simply stood, paw pressed to her mouth and a shocked look in her eyes. “Did Master Dinest say what happened?”
“No, Father. He said that you can expect a messenger.”
The boar nodded. It was traditional practice for the nobility to be told first of anything happening that affected the King or the ruling family. “And his son is Regent.”
“Yes, Father.”
Ranol nodded. “This changes nothing,” he declared. “You still have another four hours of sword drill before dinner.” He smiled at her, and she giggled. “And after dinner, I need to discuss this with you,” and he drew a small scroll from a pocket.
“What is it?”
“A list of tasks, given to me by Master Maffa.”
Halvrika’s face fell. “Oh.”
“Oh, don’t pout, girl,” Ranol chided. Have her a wry grin. “I seriously doubt she’d give you anything that you would be unable to do.’
“How well do you know Master Maffa, Father?”
“I knew her teacher much better than I know her,” Ranol admitted. “She was an Adept. Quite ruthless, too.”
“I know, Father.” Halvrika gazed down at her frugal meal. “I know.”
***
Another goblet flew through the air and struck the stone wall with a musical clang before clattering to the floor to join its fellows. Chassi had persuaded Dame Karalla and Padzi to leave, and now stood by the door as Trasta continued to fume.
He’d suggested that the pair hunt down Trasta’s chaplain, and they had both hustled off.
“Of all the bloody fucking miserable – “ The elk doe grabbed the end table and basically threw it over, grabbing it by one leg and kicking it until the lathed wood came loose in her paws. She struck the hapless table several times, spat at it, then hurled the length of wood straight at Chassi.
The Earl tipped his head to the right as the table leg struck the wall beside him. “I’m glad to see that you’re taking this well, Your Highness,” he said mildly.
“Is that all you have to say!?”
“No.” Trasta stared at him, still huffing short, sharp whistling snorts through her nose. He waited until she stopped snorting at him and the clacking of her hooves on the stone floor subsided. “The King your father made this decision, Trasta – “
“He’s sick,” she grated. “He may not be in his right mind.”
The red deer buck raised a paw. “I agree. But! The healers say he is sound of mind, and your mother and Duchess Rolna seem to think so as well.” He paused as someone knocked on the door, and he opened it to let Saragi Lefra into the room. The Priest of Luli folded his thick arms across his chest.
“Has she calmed down yet?” the old wolf asked.
Chassi replied, “So far. I am trying to reason with her.”
“Scant chance of that, lad. You see, an adherent of Luli or Valla sees everything in life as a fight. Trasta looks on her relationship with her brother as a war.”
“That’s right,” Trasta growled, “this is only a setback. I expect to lose battles.”
Chassi nodded. “So when you lose a battle, what do you do?”
The elk doe looked unhappy. After a few moments she looked away, her shoulders sagging slightly. “I learn from the loss,” she mumbled, “and attack again, applying what I’ve learned.”
The buck thought for a long moment, then licked his lips and asked, “And would it give you a tactical advantage by working with – no, not that, cooperating – with your brother?” She glared at him and he said, “Your father has chosen to keep things the same for the time being, for the stability of the realm, Trasta. Are you going to undermine that?” He stepped forward and put a paw on her shoulder. “Are you going to become a traitor, Trasta?”
Had she had a sword in her paw, she would have stabbed him, then and there.
As she stared at him, Lefra tucked his paws into his priest’s robes. “This is a test of your faith, my daughter. As you consider, remember that Luli and Valla value loyalty, as well as the strength of one’s arm.”
Trasta stood there, fists clenched, until finally her lower lip started to tremble.
Chassi hadn’t been aware that he’d been holding his breath.
He had his breath knocked out of him as the elk doe suddenly grabbed him in a bone-cracking hug, her face buried in her shoulder as she started crying. “Oh gods, Chassi,” she sobbed, “he – he looked so weak . . . so frail . . . “
He shushed her, holding her close and stroking her hair with a paw.
Lefra smiled at the Earl, nodded, and slipped out of the room as the buck continued to comfort the doe.
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Raccoon
Size 209 x 452px
File Size 16.5 kB
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