The High King: Book Two of the 'Riothamus' trilogy (16 page)

Aran looked
back and saw Darven nod in agreement.

“Then alert
all who should know,” he said turning back to the others, “We will
ride at first light. I would come upon our enemy unawares.” He
looked up and saw Maran frown, “If then not completely unaware, for
their intelligence will soon alert them to our movements, at least
whilst they are not in their full strength.”

*

Aran laid the
last item of his spare clothing into his saddlebag and carefully
buckled it closed. Walking over to the door of his chamber, he
placed the saddlebag by the door in readiness for the morrow.

Glancing down,
he saw himself dressed in one of the many fine tunics the keep’s
seamstresses had only recently sewn for their new young king.
Fingering the heavy blue wool with its simple braid pattern of oak
leaves intertwined on cuff, neck and hem, Aran wondered sadly when
and even if he would return to this place—wearing in its halls the
kingly attire that now was stored against moths in the wooden
chests at his feet.

He was taking
with him only two of the new tunics. He had picked out those made
of the heaviest, warmest wool and of the darkest, least damageable
colour. Several pairs of heavy wool hosen, undergarments, new boots
and a new, fur lined cloak had been added to his existing
travelling clothes. He wore the king’s crown for the coming
betrothal, but as soon as that was over it would be stored away for
safe keeping with the other items of his regalia. His armour was
already packed away in the wagons, ready to be brought out when
they neared their final destination. Two items only were never far
away and worn always when he was awake. They were the King’s Sword
resting in its scabbard and belt, and the second was the Great Seal
ring which he habitually wore on his right index finger. Aran
studied the ring and saw on its oval face a small, simplified
version of the spreading oak tree which was the mark of the
Andurian line. Aran smiled, he had not had reason yet to use the
great seal, but at dawn tomorrow he would officially put his seal
onto the written parchment authorising the province to go to war.
This parchment would travel with the company, and be shown to every
Legion and garrison commander that arrived at the assembling place.
Then there was a quiet knock on the door and Aran looked up from
his musings.

“Sire, they
are all gathered in the throne room.”

“Thank-you
Alem,” he replied, “I will be along straightaway.”

Aran picked up
a small pouch and tied it in readiness to his belt. Finally he
pulled his fingers through his braided hair, and settled the silver
oak-leaf crown firmly upon his head.

“Let’s go
then.”

Aran walked
from the chamber and Alem fell in behind, a quiet shadow at his
heels.

*

It took only
moments to gain the Throne Room, and Aran stopped at the doors to
survey the great crowd of people clustered around the dais. Upon
seeing him, they immediately knelt, and Aran walked up quickly
through their midst to seat himself upon the King’s throne.
Archmage Maran and the Priestess Delana appeared to stand at the
foot of the dais in a similar way to the day of his crowning.

“My Lord King,
“announced Archmage Maran “We have two betrothals this night, Wolf
Leader Darven of Eastling asks to be hand fasted to head groom
Kiaia, and High King Arantur asks to be hand fasted to Alissa,
daughter of Captain Taran.”

Aran nodded,
“That is true.”

The Priestess
stepped forward, “Wolf Leader Darven and head groom Kiaia please
present yourselves here.”

Darven and
Kiaia stood and walked up to the dais. Both were tidily dressed in
their feast clothes.

“Would Darven
and Kiaia’s witnesses please be in attendance.”

Captain Taran
and Alissa stood and joined the others at the dais.

The Priestess
turned to the witnesses, “Do you come here of your own free
will?”

They answered,
“Aye Priestess.”

“Do you know
and vouch for these two who wish betrothal?

“Aye
Priestess.”

“Do you know
of any reason why these two should be not be betrothed?”

“Nay
Priestess.”

The green
garbed priestess nodded, “Good, you may return to your places.”

She waited
until they were again kneeling, then took the hands of Darven and
Kiaia and clasped them together. She picked up a yellow and white
patterned cord and winding it about their hands bound the couple
together. Finally she took out a small flask of consecrated water
and poured a small amount over their joined hands.

“Darven and
Kiaia, you are now in the eyes of the Goddess and the law,
officially betrothed. Although you are not yet man and wife, any
children conceived or born of this union will be of your flesh and
name. You are now commanded after at least one month, wherever you
may be, to present yourselves to a Priestess to have the union
formalised in marriage. Be certain to take your betrothal cord with
you as it will be required at the ceremony.”

Carefully she
untied their hands and with a smile, presented Kiaia with the
cord.

“You may go
now.”

The Priestess
turned and nodded to Aran.

“High King
Arantur, and Alissa, daughter of Captain Taran please present
yourselves here.”

Alissa smiling
walked up to the dais, Aran stood and walked down the few steps to
join her.

“Would Arantur
and Alissa’s witnesses please be in attendance.”

Master Cody
and Captain Taran stood and joined the young couple at the foot of
the dais.

Aran looked up
and saw the happiness and pride written clearly on his former
master’s face.

The Priestess
turned to the witnesses, “Do you come here of your own free
will?”

They answered
“Aye Priestess.”

“Do you know
and vouch for these two who wish betrothal?

“Aye,
Priestess.”

“Do you know
of any reason why these two should be not be betrothed?”

“Nay,
Priestess.”

Delana nodded,
“Good. You may now return to your places.”

She waited
until they had returned, and were again kneeling, then took the
hands of Arantur and Alissa and clasped them together. Aran
immediately felt Alissa’s narrow warm hands tighten in anticipation
under his fingers. Priestess Delana turned and removed from the
seat of the right hand throne a deep blue cord bound in narrow gold
thread and with tiny oak leaves embroidered at each end. Returning
to the couple, she slowly and carefully wound the cord over their
joined hands, binding Aran and Alissa to each other. Aran felt the
firm tightness of the cord, and gently squeezed Alissa’s hand in
reassurance. Finally the priestess retrieved the small flask of
consecrated water and poured the remaining liquid over their joined
hands.

“Arantur and
Alissa, you are now in the eyes of the Goddess and the law,
officially betrothed. Although you are not yet man and wife, any
children conceived or born of this union will be of your flesh and
name. You are now commanded after six months, wherever you may be,
to present yourselves to a Priestess to have the union formalised
in marriage. Be certain to take your betrothal cord with you as it
will be required at the ceremony.”

Carefully she
untied their hands and with a smile and a bow, gifted Alissa with
the cord.

“High King
Arantur, you may now return to your throne. Alissa, daughter of
Taran, please wait here.”

Aran returned
to his seat and turning, smiled at the young blue gowned woman
standing so alone at the base of the dais. “Alissa my betrothed,
come here,” he said in a voice loud enough for all to hear. Alissa
turned and with a puzzled nod, ascended the three steps to stand
squarely before her king and future husband.

“Please
kneel.”

The young
golden haired woman soundlessly dropped to her knees.

Aran carefully
opened the pouch at his hip and shook out a small silver ring. He
turned it over thoughtfully in his hands, and then held it up for
everyone to see. “All present here, you are to bear witness to this
the ancient betrothal ring of the Andurian line. The hand on which
it is placed is immediately identified as the future Queen, consort
and co-ruler of this province.” Aran stood and taking Alissa’s
right hand slipped the ring upon her forefinger, and then whilst
still holding her hand with his left hand he quickly unsheathed the
King’s Sword and in one quick movement, placed her ringed hand upon
the hilt which was now protectively covered by both his hands.

Aran, whose
full concentration was upon the sword, the ring and the woman
before him, heard the startled gasp from the watching crowd as the
sword flared brightly, its glow fully engulfing the young couple. A
moment later the brightness subsided and Aran and Alissa stood
together unharmed.

“Thus the
King’s Sword has recognised and marked Alissa as my future Queen,
consort and co-ruler,” Aran stated clearly. “Apart from the
Archmage of Glaive and of course myself, she alone will be able to
wield it without injury. However such a rising would only be
permitted during a time of deepest distress to the province, when I
am either dead or incapacitated through illness or injury. If I am
to die prematurely in battle or through illness or injury, this
woman is to be regarded as the heir apparent to the Andurian
throne. Any children of our union will be of our blood and name,
and ascend the throne at the Goddess’ time.”

Looking to
Alissa, he smiled at her and continued “Since you are not yet Queen
you may not yet sit upon the right hand throne. Until that day
however when your coronation and our marriage are one and the same,
you may stand here on the dais at my side in recognition of your
future status as Queen, consort and co-ruler.” Aran then led Alissa
to the space between the two thrones, and gently kissed her on the
brow and lips, then resumed his customary place on the left hand
throne. He looked across to the Archmage who nodded and walked to
the base of the dais.

“All present,
bear witness to these ceremonies, and spread the word to all you
meet so as the entire province will know that our king is betrothed
to Lady Alissa, regent of the Province of Andur.”

Maran waited
for the echo to fade then continued, “We will now complete this
audience, and remind all that we ride for Haulgard, Helmsgard and
Leigh at first light. Then after that onto war.” He gazed at Aran
and Alissa on the dais, then out at the gathered crowd.

“All present,
look well upon your King and future Queen. It will be many months
before they return to sit again on these ancient thrones and take
up again their duties of reigning monarchs residing at Andur’s
Keep. May the Goddess keep them safe and return them to this place
safely and in good health.”

The assembled
crowd stood and cheered loudly, Aran turned and smiled reassuringly
at Alissa whose composure was still reeling from touching the
deadly King’s Sword only moments before.

“After this
will you meet me on the battlements my lady?” Aran asked in a low
voice.

Alissa turned
startled green eyes to Aran and nodded.

*

“By Andur!
Aran, you could have warned me!” Alissa was still shaking with
reaction.

The young King
leaned over the stone battlements and embrasures and gazed out at
his land now swathed in night’s embrace and sadly shook his head.
“Only Maran and the Priestess knew of that part of the ceremony,
and unfortunately I was under oath not to reveal it to you.” He
went to her and hugged her stiff, unyielding body, “If I could have
I would have done so my love, to spare you from that fright. But I
was under oath; it seems that just as I had to first take the sword
unprepared, you did too…I am sorry.” Alissa’s body slowly relaxed
and she let out a deep sigh, “Any more odd ceremonies that I need
to know about,” she asked with a hesitant return to her old humour
and wit.

Aran smiled
and laughed, “Not that I am aware of, however I am certain that
Maran and Delana may have further surprises in store so be vigilant
my lady.”

Alissa laughed
gently, and hugged Aran in return, willing herself to forget that
one frightening moment when she felt certain she was going to die,
consumed by the power of that deadly sword.

Aran turned
her in his arms so they could both look out at the sleeping land
around them. “All this is yours now Alissa,” he said at last. Aran
felt her nod.

“And the war
that goes with it,” she replied, fingering the small silver ring
upon her hand. “Do you think we will return alive?”

Aran stared
out at the darkness and tightened his hold upon his lady, “I hope
so Alissa…we can only pray to the Goddess to bring us home safe
again.”

“Aye”

‘Sister?’

There was a
soft, murmuring whisper in the air, and Aran saw Alissa cock her
head, like a hound scenting the wind.

“Sarana?” Aran
asked aloud.

‘Aye brother,’
the voice whispered, ‘I have come to see my new sister…did I not
tell you that she would be yours.’

Aran chuckled
remembering the first day at the Keep, “Aye sister, I well
remember.”

Alissa turned
her head, her eyes full of questions.

Aran smiled
gently at her and mouthed, “Sarana, the spirit of my dead
sister.”

Alissa nodded
and spoke quietly, “Sarana, my name is Alissa. I am to be your
brother’s wife and queen.”

‘I know you
Alissa…and I am well glad we are to be sisters,’ Sarana replied and
there was laughter evident in her words.

“We ride to
war sister,” Aran said, “Will you be travelling with us?”

‘For a time,’
she murmured, ‘I have taken my leave of the whales. I will travel
with you when I can. There will be much power and many ears about
you so I cannot stay…but I will visit when I am able’.