Chapter Three

The King, his non-lethal wound now treated and healing, had called for a council meeting. Though she was not a Lord like most of the council members, the King only had the one son. If something were to happen to Maddon during the King’s lifetime it was possible that he might name her as heir rather than Berin’s brother John. In that eventuality, experience and knowledge with the Kingdom’s politics and affairs of state would be useful. Far more so than if she were just managing her future husband’s castle.

Maddon as future King was of course at the Great Council as well. Nobody questioned his presence there. Truth told, Ariana didn’t enjoy the council meetings. Swordplay and archery were far more interesting pastimes, and she never felt truly at home among all the majority of old male lords. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to give up her privilege to be there when several of those Lords seemed to be of the opinion that as a woman she should be stepping back from this sort of thing.

The Council chambers adjoined the throne room and had few decorations other than a blue banner with the silver Farhorn eagle stitched into it, some candles, and a large table which took up most of the room. A map of the Five Kingdoms was hung on the wall, with the Eastern lands not featured, as nobody knew how large they actually were. The army that had invaded them hadn’t stayed for long.

The King naturally sat at the head of the table, with his brother Prince John at his right. Her father made a point of attending all meetings, but it seemed as if he mostly just gave his assent to his brother and Favian’s decisions. His left seat was empty, as Slynn had business down at his mines and this meeting was arranged very suddenly. As such, several of the other seats were empty where other major Lords or their representatives may have sat. Ariana had assumed that this was about the prisoner who was currently lingering below in the dungeons, but a scroll of parchment her father was brandishing suggested otherwise.

“This morning a letter arrived from King Darrowmere,” stated the King. “He would like to sign a lasting peace treaty and encourage trade between our borders. He hopes that this will put an end to the uncomfortable tensions which have emerged since The Settlement, and to recognise each of our respective claims to the agreed lands.”

Ariana glanced over at the map. Rivergate had once been the capital of the largest Kingdom of them all, but not anymore. There had been a dispute over the line of succession when the current King Darrowmere’s great-grandfather, a Farhorn, had abdicated out of fear when an Eastern armada threatened their lands. The rule passed over his young daughters to his younger brother, a far more military-minded man, and his daughters had married into the Darrowmere family. Their descendents felt they had a claim on the throne in Rivergate, and the dispute led to a rebellion in which the Darrowmeres carved out a substantial piece of territory for themselves. The treaty to end that rebellion and divide the Kingdom into two had since become known as The Settlement.

“I don’t like it, but unless we’re planning to declare war and reclaim the land then we should go along with it,” said John.

“I agree,” said the King. “The new borders he suggests are a small price to pay for avoiding war. There is little to gain from it. They have no resources which we do not have ourselves, or a profitable sea route. They just have a population now accustomed to another ruler. By signing the treaty we can agree to allow trade routes from the other Kingdoms to pass through to us as well.”

“What of the people living on the land Uric wishes to take?” asked Ariana.

“They will have to find new homes,” said the King. “We can assist them in that. They will not be harmed.”

His tone brooked no argument, and nobody else at the table tried to say anything. It didn’t feel quite right to her to negotiate with a family who had won the majority of their land by rebellion, but they had to be practical. Regardless of who deserved the lands, both sides had large armies, and the last war had devastated the Kingdom. It was impossible to see who was in the right anyway. The rules of succession stated that when a King abdicated his children lost all claim to the throne. But then again, the Farhorns had written those rules.

John picked up the letter to read the final lines.

“He says that if you accept, he will come to Rivergate with his son Fendred to sign the treaty, and looks forward to meeting your sons and daughter Ariana.”

Ariana bristled when her name was mentioned, but sat straight, challenging anyone else in the room to acknowledge her. John looked at the King.

“He’s bringing his eldest,” he said, “and looks forward to meeting your daughter, referenced by name. I find it unlikely that it is solely so he can witness the signing of a treaty.”

Ariana felt warmth rise to her cheeks when she caught the meaning. This was not at all something she had been expecting.

 “Do you believe he wants to arrange a marriage, your highness?” asked one of the other council members.

“Fendred is of age and unmarried. A marriage seems a sensible way to seal a treaty,” said the King. “I see no problem with it. Ariana, if all goes well, you and Fendred shall be married.”

She swallowed, controlling her voice so as not to star an argument.

“Do you not think it would be more sensible to at least meet them and hear what they have to say in person before I marry one of the enemy?” asked Ariana.

“King Uric is bringing his son to ensure he approves of the arrangement before suggesting it.”

“And what of my approval?”

The King’s voice grew stern.

“He is young, healthy and by all accounts an accomplished fighter,” said Berin. “You would be the Queen in Grenfell, and your children would rule there as well. Your influence there is exactly what we need to ensure peace.”

“And what makes you so sure he will hold to a peace treaty?” she asked, looking around the table to implore the others for support. “Uric’s reputation is far from trustworthy, just look at what happened to King Arran when Uric was visiting.”

“I am inclined to be wary about allowing passage into the Kingdom as well,” said John. “At least until a treaty is signed.”

“This is not a negotiation,” said her father in a voice which silenced the room. “Kings need to stand by their promises or they lose credibility. He made the offer himself, and it benefits both of our Kingdoms. This is the first indication that they are willing to accept the current state of play. To refuse it would be a step towards war, which I have managed to avoid for the duration of my rule. Ariana, it is time you were married, your mother would not argue with that.”

It was true. Though her mother had been supportive in giving Ariana the freedom to train and fight, she had been insistent this past year that at the age of eighteen she should be thinking about a husband. Her mother had been married and indeed pregnant soon after at that age. There would be no argument from her.

Maddon, who had been sitting in thoughtful silence until now, spoke up.

“What if Uric plans to declare war on another Kingdom? He may have decided that with King Arran gone Lowmarch is weak, and a treaty may demand that we stay out of it,” he said.

The room paused, considering.

“That is possible,” agreed the King, “but our only alliance is with Queen Reyna to the south. If he does attack one of the other two Kingdoms, then we are not involving ourselves. King Jakov never wanted to commit himself to our defence, and I have had no dealings with Arran’s son. They can fend for themselves.”

“So the treaty will be signed?” clarified John, looking for final confirmation.

“So long as the terms are reasonable, yes,” said King Berin. “I shall have a reply drafted. To celebrate the signing of the treaty, we shall hold a tournament and test the mettle of Uric’s heir in a melee.”

Their father looked towards Maddon, and Ariana felt a nervous thrill. She smiled. A tournament. It could also serve as the first test of Fendred’s character. If she could fight and beat him in a tournament, and he was humble enough to accept that defeat, then it would demonstrate that he was at least someone she could live with. If he was the stereotypical proud and arrogant prince, she doubted he would want to marry the woman who had humiliated him in a tournament. Of course she had to ensure her father allowed her to compete, and then defeat him, which would be no easy task. Still, any opportunity to win some respect for her skill was one she relished. She could see Maddon’s face was strained and trying to appear neutral, but he clearly did not look forward to the event as much as she did.

“What about the family link?” asked Maddon.

The King waved a hand dismissively.

“Not an issue, fourth cousins are too distantly related for anyone to be concerned, and the temple has given approval to many closer matches.”

Maddon looked displeased but didn’t argue. Ariana felt some sympathy. She was never expected to match the men in combat, so it was almost inevitable that she would defy that expectation. However as the heir to the throne, Maddon should be proving his worth as a future King. It was not particularly fair of their society to prize a King’s fighting ability in such a way, but that was just how things worked, and there was nothing to be done about it.

“Will it just be a melee, your highness?” asked one of the men, interrupting the sudden silence in conversation.

“We shall make it a crest fight. There will be archery and a separate joust as well, as is generally expected,” consented the King. “The knights will need to train well from this and of course Maddon will compete, and give a respectable display.”

“Not just Maddon, I assume,” said Ariana. “I know I would certainly feel better about this arrangement if I could be a part of the celebrations after the treaty is signed.”

The King met her eyes.

“You will be on your best behaviour,” he said. “You will be courteous and demure in all your interactions with the prince. You will not ruin this treaty. Do we understand each other?”

“Of course,” nodded the princess, imagining the occasion in her mind. She had fought in individual duels with some of the knights and what she lacked in strength against some she made up for with speed and training.

“Now, onto the issue of the assassination attempt,” said King Berin, his face solemn. “The interrogators have yet to speak to the prisoner, but his accent sounds local. Whoever hired him did so within the Kingdom. Mr Duskwalker, tell me what intelligence you have on the two assassins.”

The King’s spymaster leaned forwards, looking a little embarrassed.

“None, your highness, I’m afraid nobody saw the man fleeing, and the bolts and crossbow used bore no markings – they could have been from any blacksmith. I have tried to track down poachers who may have seen suspicious characters waiting in the forests for your hunting party but understandably nobody wishes to admit to being in the woods at all. I believe the best hope is to talk to the captured shooter and ask him to give up his employer. Obviously his life is void but if he has family we can promise to provide for them in return for useful information.”

“We can make that offer, but I have no patience for torturers, if he will not speak then we shall proceed with his execution tomorrow without trying to force words out of him, I doubt he will have anything useful to say except what he thinks we want to hear. Only a fool would let these assassins know anything that could incriminate him if the men were captured. Other than ensuring a watchful guard is kept I believe there is little else to be done. That is all.”

The King pushed his chair back and stood, moving carefully with his injury, and walked to the door. The red-cloaked Bloodsworn by the door followed him as he exited. The guards would be ever more vigilant now after the embarrassment of allowing their King to be wounded. They took a failure like that very seriously. Ariana was bothered by the mystery of the assassination, but she knew that there was nothing she could do. The impending tournament and marriage pact were far more present in her mind at the moment. There was one person she knew who would definitely be interested in that new development. She needed to find her cousin Quinlan.

***

Ariana glanced around her as she passed the doors of the keep to enter the training yard, where loud metallic clashes resounded throughout the area as the knights were sparring. She had traded her dress for menswear, as she planned to train. She sighed, looking for Quinlan as Maddon talked beside her.

“I just think that with this Fendred around it makes sense that we work together in the melee for as long as possible,” said her brother. “If we focus on watching each others’ backs and agree not to fight each other then we’re much less likely to be knocked out of the running early. Father wants us to beat the Darrowmere, so it would be stupid to fight each other when we could take him on together.”

“I think he wants you to beat the Darrowmere,” she corrected.

“Regardless, would it not help to take him on together?”

“Fine,” she huffed, willing to humour him. “We don’t fight until the end, but I’m not risking my chances just to protect you, you’ll need to make sure you can defend yourself. You’re the heir after all.”

She left him standing in the entrance to the courtyard. Perhaps she was being harsh, but a deal required them being able to give each other equal protection, which she didn’t trust Maddon to do. He might try, but that mind of his couldn’t block swords. She would be more likely to endanger herself by helping him. Better for at least one of the Farhorns to have a winning chance, surely?

Having ascertained that Quinlan wasn’t any of the fighters, Ariana scanned the spectators. Sure enough, she spotted a black feather protruding out of the folded brim of the hat Quinlan sometimes wore. Her cousin was animatedly explaining the complexities of the training to one of the interested young women observing. Quinlan was an odd one in the castle. He had been conceived at the wedding of Ariana’s parents, and they had been born days apart. His father was the Queen’s brother Trystan, who had died at war before he was born, while his mother had been a servant who happened to catch Trystan’s eye. What happened to her wasn’t common knowledge, but the end result was that the bastard boy had been given a home with the rest of them, and had become one of Ariana’s closest friends, both of them standing out among their peers. He was also one of the few people who could best her with the sword. She made her way over, and when Quinlan caught sight of her he politely exited his conversation to join her.

“Making friends, Quin?” she asked.

He grinned.

“That was Lady Sophia. She loves to watch duels and fighting but so few of her friends are interested. A real shame.”

“I’m sure,” said Ariana knowingly. “Anyway, I thought you might be interested in the outcome of the council meeting?”

“Ah yes, so what exciting revelations did it bring?” asked Quinlan, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll be pleased, there’s a tournament coming up,” she said. “It’s to celebrate the signing of this treaty with the Darrowmeres. Some prince called Fendred will be comng.”

“A tournament and a foreign prince,” said Quinlan. “That will be interesting. I assume he’s coming to fight?”

“Among other things,” muttered Ariana.

Quinlan looked at her, imploring her to continue. She sighed.

“My father thinks they’re interested in a marriage alliance between me and the prince,” she admitted.

“Ah,” said Quin. “Did you tell them to shove it up their arse?”

“No, I did not,” she replied. “I haven’t met the prince yet. Perhaps he’s a perfect gentleman. I would be a Queen, after all.”

“You would,” agreed Quin. “Though it would be in another Kingdom. Is that what you want?”

“Well, I want to be Queen here and choose my partner for myself but apparently I lack the parts for that. Instead, why don’t we focus on seeing whether this prince can take a beating from Rivergaters.”

He grinned impishly.

 “Well I’m always happy to oblige in that respect. Do we know if he’s any good?”

“Supposedly. He’s a year or so older than us, but it’s our home turf.”

Quinlan grinned impishly.

“Well I am always happy to oblige in that respect,” he said. “How about Maddon and your other cousins, will they fight?”

“Father didn’t give Maddon much choice. He asked me just now whether we could make a deal to fight together,” said Ariana. “As for Edmund, I don’t know, he’s only three years younger than me, and a good fighter, but I’m not sure if he’s up to fighting in a melee yet, even a crest fight.”

“Seems sensible for him to sit this one out, they are pretty dangerous. After the last one they stopped allowing war hammers,” remembered Quinlan with a grimace. “What weapons were you thinking of using?”

They often practised with a variety of weapons; axes, maces, swords, and all sorts, but she knew where her strengths lay.

“Short sword and shield, it’s what I’ve trained the most with, and there’s no point trying to fix what isn’t broken,” she said distractedly, watching as one of the swordsmen nearby was knocked to the floor with a crash, and then turning back to Quin. “Why, were you planning something else?”

“I was just watching these knights and it seems as if almost everyone is training with a shield and a one-handed main weapon, so that’s probably what they will use in the tournament too. I think it might be fun to switch things up and use a hand-and-a-half without the shield. It might be harder to defend myself but I’ll have a longer reach, and I think it will throw people off,” replied Quinlan, smiling.

“Risky move, going two-handed with a weapon,” nodded Ariana, grimacing. “I hate fighting without a shield.”

“Well I suppose if you’re not confident enough to fight without one…”

Ariana rolled her eyes and punched him on the arm.

“Is it your swordplay which had Lady Sophia so interested?”

“You know I would never do anything her father would disapprove of,” said Quinlan, a twinkle in his eye.

“Well if the rumours about last year are to be believed...”

“I’m an honest man now,” insisted Quinlan.

“Right,” said Ariana doubtfully. “Well if she likes you, go for it.”

Quinlan laughed, looking back at the crowd of people.

“Well, I’m no Darrowmere prince.”

“Very funny,” she said. “Now stop trying to distract me from the beating you’re about to get. Let’s train.”

“Don’t get cocky now,” he warned.

“It’s not cocky if I know I could beat you in the fighting arena,” she replied, chuckling. “Especially if you’re not even going to use a shield.”

Quinlan shrugged confidently, flicking some hair out of his eyes.

“Just you wait. You might doubt the longsword, but you know me, if everyone else is doing one thing, I’ll be the one who tries something different,” he laughed. “I would try a quarterstaff but I never really gained any experience with it.”

Ariana smiled wryly.

“I would love to see you fighting armoured knights with a quarterstaff,” she said, shaking her head at the image.

“I might have to train with it some more after the tournament and get good with it,” said Quinlan. “But that’s something for later. Any idea how much time we have to prepare?”

“Well Uric has to receive the reply, and then he has to make his way here, probably with a large guard. He’ll send word ahead that he is coming of course. We have several weeks, maybe more than a month if things drag on. If we practice every day we should be well prepared. I might get some lessons with Weapons Master Falk to see if he has any advice.”

“Well there’s no time like the present,” said Quinlan, gesturing to the large stone armoury where everybody stored their weapons and armour. “Think you can handle it?”

“Well you probably need the practice with your longsword,” said Ariana, as they headed over.

“I’ll have you know I’m very well practiced at handling a long sword,” he said. “Besides, I know your best moves almost by heart now.”

“Doesn’t stop me winning though,” she replied, as she began strapping on some light protective training armour over her tunic.

“Maybe against the other knights who don’t want to hurt the poor princess,” countered Quinlan. “But don’t expect any special treatment from me in the tournament. You’ll get no easy win from me.”

“Oh I count on it,” said Ariana, tightening the final clasp. “Now let’s fight.”

y

Next Chapter: Chapter Four