Homage and Honour (31 page)

“Some will
prefer that to the Fealtatis ceremony itself,” said William
Duchesne.

“A
masterstroke,” uttered Duke Gardiner. He looked at David with a
wary respect. “For those of Kellen or Thane rank a private
invitation to attend an evening with King or Queen would be a
lifetime opportunity.”

Neither he nor
the others were to know that David intended such gatherings to
become regular occurrences. The duchies were like miniature
kingdoms. Each duke might declare himself a loyal vassal of the
King and so swear each year at winter court. Each might hold a seat
on Conclave and be equal to each other but in practice, it was not
so.
Their
vassals swore fealty to
them
for their
demesnes and the lesser nobility’s first allegiance was to their
duke, not the crown. David intended to form personal bonds between
him, his family and the gentry.

Predictably it
was Sam Baker who spoke first, “I am prepared to accept this as
long as all my vassals are invited to these evenings of yours.”

David bit back
a smile. Sam Baker had not understood the wheels within wheels and
David’s ulterior motive. He was very content.

“Well, how did
it go?” asked Charles Cocteau when the Conclave was eventually
adjourned. He was of course, debarred from entering the hallowed
confines of the Conclave Chamber, being neither a Duke nor having a
seat on a vacant chair.

“Lead me to a
glass of wine, in fact, lead me to a bottle!”

Charles
chuckled.

* * * * *

The crowning of
Anne in the throne-room of the Palace at Fort was full of opulence,
splendour and music.

The noble
guests flitted around the public rooms dressed in their expensive
best and talked with excitement of the ceremonies to come. Not only
was Anne to be crowned but there would also be more fealty oaths
and the appointments of the Ladies-in-Waiting, the Gentlemen of the
Bedchamber and the Childrens’ Companions. Last but not least would
be the betrothals.

Anne, David and
the children were waiting in the retiring room behind the
throne.

Anne was pale
as she sat, knowing that the moment would soon be upon her. Annette
sat by her side. She had an ordeal of her own to contend with. The
betrothal between her and the Count Heir Tom Brentwood was second
on the list after that of Xavier and his intended but that young
man, being that much younger was not all that bothered. Marriage
was far away for Xavier and Michaela. Annette knew that the Dukes
would be pushing for hers as soon as it was feasible. The Dukes
wanted more royals born and soon.

David had his
own worries. He was about to become Prince Consort. He was
diffident about his abilities to rule over this difficult
country.

Anne’s face was
a solemn one as she exited the retiring chamber and walked the
eighteen precise steps to reach the podium on which the Throne of
Murdoch sat. She stood there, resplendent in her velvet gown and
giving those attending the coronation time to gaze their fill on
the alabaster white face of their Queen.

To Anne, the
room was made up of faces, too many faces, for everybody who was
anybody was present and that did not include those representatives
from out-kingdom.

Duke Sam Baker
watched Anne settle herself on the throne, not yet fully reconciled
to the fact that it was not his grandson sitting in Anne’s place.
Little did he suspect how much Anne would have given for her and
young Richard’s roles to be reversed.

Count Charles
Cocteau watched Sam Baker and vowed to keep a close eye on the
irritable old duke in the months to come. He was not the only one
to so vow. Many nobles present did not like the calculating look
they saw in Sam Baker’s face.

With the
betrothal of Xavier and his granddaughter he would become even more
dangerous. If Anne was to have an accident (Charles knew the duke
was powerful enough to arrange one), the underage Xavier would
become King and as his father-in-law, Sam become the Lord
Regent.

As the moment
drew closer Anne felt sick with apprehension and swallowed the bile
rising in her throat. She wanted to stand up, to gather up her
cumbersome skirts and run away, run as far away as she possibly
could but that would be playing into Sam Baker’s hands.

He was staring
at her, she could feel it, as if he was willing her to do just
that, hadn’t David told her that he had suggested such a thing in
Conclave not a tendays past? He wanted her to abdicate in favour of
her son but she would not do it, could not leave her son to that
man’s not so tender mercies.

The High
Prelate was approaching now, the point of no return was upon her
and she raised scared eyes to his compassionate ones as he stopped
three steps in front of her.

“Do thou Anne,
of the Bloodline of Murdoch solemnly swear to take up the burden of
kingship of this our country for as long as ye shall live?”

The words
tumbled unwillingly from her lips. “I do so solemnly swear,” and
added, as she had been taught, “but I am a simple woman and it is
unfitting that I shall be a King for the governance of our realm
and so it is my wish to so hand over all power vested in me as King
to my husband David who shall take up the burden in my stead. Do ye
my Dukes and lesser vassals accept this?”

“Aye.”

The High
Prelate placed the diadem on her brow.

“So be it,” he
intoned then stepped back. “I call on Prince Consort David, husband
of the Queen to enter and lay claim to the powers to be
vested.”

He made no move
to remove the diadem. Anne was Queen by blood-right and though
David would perform the actual acts of governance, the crown was
hers.

This was
David’s cue, it was his turn to leave the retiring room and heart
in mouth, approach the throne.

He placed
himself in front of his wife. He did not bow, he held out his hand
to help her to her feet. Although Queen Regnant, Anne would no
longer sit on the big throne but on the chair to the left. She
shuffled along and sank down on its cushion with relief as David
turned to face the assembled.

The High
Prelate cleared his throat, “what say ye David, Lord Prince Consort
of Anne, Queen of Murdoch? Do ye accept the trust which is to be
laid upon thee?”

“I do,” said
David in a clear, unfaltering voice. No-one would have guessed
(except perhaps Charles and Anne herself) just how nervous he
was.

“Do ye also
swear that thou will rule fairly and justly and will uphold all
laws?”

“I do,” said
David again.

The High
Prelate bowed once more to David before turning to face the
onlookers.

“What say thee,
Dukes and Lords of Murdoch? Will thou agree to this, that David,
Lord Prince Consort should take up the burden of governance on the
Queen’s behalf?”

Charles found
himself holding his breath. Would Sam Baker bow to the inevitable
or would he refuse and even after all the talk, decide to lay claim
to the throne on his grandson’s behalf? If he did Charles knew that
they would all be fighting a bitter civil war by the end of a
tenday.

Sam Baker did
not but his look was thunderous as he approached the throne to give
homage to the new Queen and her husband the Lord Prince
Consort.

* * * * *

Quartet (5)

The Ryzck was
sleeping the sleep of the weary during the early part of the night.
It had to be admitted that some found it hard to settle down after
the excitements of the dawn fight with the pirates but by eleventh
bell, most were snuggled deep inside their bedrolls.

Tana and Tavei
were patrolling the surrounding area with Valary and her Lind Jsnei
in companionable silence when both Jsnei and Tavei stopped.

: It is too
still :
they telepathed to their respective partners.

Now that they
had stopped moving their two riders could sense the stillness
too.

: What is
it? :
Tana urged.

: I do not
know :
came Tavei’s worried answer
: I have not sensed
anything like this before :

Both Valary and
Tana strained their ears and could hear none of the more usual
night sounds, not the patter of the tiny feet of the vuz rustling
through the undergrowth, nor the slither of the zandi as it
rummaged under the rocks, nor the wing-noises of the night-hunting
birds.

“Pirates? Have
they come back?” whispered Tana to Valary.

The woman shook
her head. “Something else, listen.”

Now Tana could
hear sounds but they were emanating from the Ryzck’s own campsite.
Voices could be heard over the ultra-still air.

The ground
rumbled. Jsnei and Tavei staggered as the soil shuddered beneath
their paws. The voices from the campsite were louder now.

“Back to camp,”
Valary voiced aloud, “I don’t know what it is but I don’t like it.”
The two Lind turned and ran back to camp as fast as their paws
could take them. Everyone was awake. The rumble came again, louder.
The cook-pots swayed and fires sparked as their banked edges
shifted.

Ryzcka Jilmis
erupted into their midst. Mouth set, he ordered his vadeln to pack
up the camp and be ready to move out. Ryzcka Jilmis knew what this
was. He had felt it before growing up in the northern mountains of
Vadath. There the tremor had caused a landslide that had all but
wiped out his home village. He remembered the destruction that had
been caused when the river had burst its banks, the watercourse
changing to follow the altered topography of the valley.

There were many
rivers in this part of Argyll. He knew his duty. His Ryzck must be
ready to give aid to whoever needed it. He called for the men,
women and Lind under his command to draw closer and explained what
was happening. “They are earth tremors,” he explained, “as long as
they don’t get any worse they are not all that dangerous in
themselves.”

“What do we
do?” asked an anxious voice.

“We wait.”

They waited,
but not for long. The next rumble when it came was deafening. Tana
pressed her hands to her head. Tavei’s long ears were pressed down
and his face full of pain. The Lind’s hearing was far more acute
than that of humankind. The air was heavy with ominous threat.

The ground
began to undulate.

“Mount,” came
the order reinforced telepathically as the entire Ryzck and its
three cadet duos on attachment, scrambled to their feet and paws
and the vadelns into their saddles. They waited, staggering as the
ground heaved and bucked beneath them. No-one panicked although
Tana noticed that an ashen Beth was biting her lips to stop herself
crying out.

They could hear
thunderous cracks as the ground underpaw protested and reacted to
the earthquake, for that is what it was.

Then all at
once it stopped and was replaced by silence.

“Is anyone
hurt?” asked Jilmis but apart from a few bumps and bruises, nobody
was.

Ryzcka Jilmis
insisted that everyone and everylind have something to eat then
they would run south along the coast towards Port Lutterell. Jilmis
had a gut feeling that it would be in Port Lutterell itself where
they would find the most damage.

As they drew
ever nearer to the port they could see the pillars of smoke.

For a split
second, Tana had the idea that the pirates had returned and were
attacking the Port setting fire to it in retaliation for their
trouncing at the Ryzck’s hands at the village yesterday but, an
instant later, she realised that the fires were caused by the
quake. Most of the buildings at Port Lutterell were built of wood
and all that it would have taken was one overturned stove-fire.

Tana and Tavei
stepped up their pace to run beside Valary and Jsnei. As they
topped the hill above Port Lutterell they saw that the entire port
area was ablaze, the flames licking with inanimate greed at the
wooden warehouses and offices. The residential areas close to the
docks were beginning to burn. Many buildings were damaged; some had
disintegrated into mounds of rubble.

Tana and Valary
saw that the new brick houses of the rich inhabitants had not
escaped; the older, timber-framed homes had fared better because,
being more flexible in construction, they moved with the ground
undulations. A small fire, which had erupted in one of them, was
being attacked with vigour by a crowd of people who were getting it
under control.

But it was in
the dock and poorer areas where the Ryzck’s help would be most
needed and it was there Jilmis ordered them. Beth gulped as she and
Xei accompanied their mentoring vadeln-pair into what she described
later as the horror of all horrors.

During the
Ryzck’s fight with the pirates the previous morning they had been
kept to the rear; their duties confined to looking after the
inhabitants fleeing their homes. Of the three, only Tana had seen
one of the dead, a pirate who had tried to escape inland but who
had been run down.

The stench was
overpowering. Beth gagged and tried not to bring up what was in her
stomach. Mixed in with the smell of burning wood and oil was the
sickly stench of burning bodies.

Xei stopped in
his tracks and stared goggle-eyed at the row of bodies heaped in
front of him, men, women, old and young and the children. Beth felt
sick. Xei didn’t feel any better although he managed not to retch.
Like his rider, Xei was a young Lind. This was the first time he
had encountered victims of violent death.

Under the
command of Valary and her Lind Jsnei, the three cadet pairs were
put to searching for anyone who had been overlooked when the port
officials had cleared out the areas most at risk from the spreading
fires.

With Tana,
Tavei, Beth and Xei was a shock-haired lad some months older than
the two girls and his Lind Whalya. She was built on a dainty scale,
barely fourteen hands tall. Xei and Tavei towered over her. Luckily
her vadeln Tamir was a light-boned, skinny individual who, unless
he took to eating in excess, would be most unlikely to grow too
heavy for her.