Chapter II - Fate

II.  Fate

 

            A wave of emotion, followed just as quickly by a surge of bile in the back of her throat, nearly overwhelmed her, but she willed both the tears and the sickness back. She had seen her father deal with tragic news hundreds of times over the years and he always reacted with cool and calm.  Even when disease had claimed the life of his beloved queen.  Victoria focused on the stoic face of her father in adversity and tried to clear her mind.  She wiped the moisture from her eyes, before they could become tears, and the burning sensation in her throat forced a few hard coughs.  Oliver slowly stood and moved closer to her, to see if she needed some comfort.

“Are you….is there anythin’..?”

She extended her hand as if she were ordering a mobile supply train of wagons to come to a screeching halt, then waved him off.

“I…” she steadied her voice. “I will be fine, Oliver.  Thank you for being the one to tell me.”

The old guardian heard a tone from the princess that he did not recognize.  She had called him Ollie since she was a little girl and the sudden formality and…anger in her voice, was enough to snap him out of the daze he had been in since the news of the king’s death was delivered.  For the first time since he drew the assignment to guard the king’s daughter a decade ago,  he stepped back, and stood at attention, “Will that be all then milady?”

While she appreciated Oliver’s new sense of responsibility, she again waved him away; the strength for words would have to wait.  It was still dark outside the castle, but sleep would not return for her.  She could not imagine the size of force that would be needed to kill her father, brother and thirty of the Realm’s finest knights.  The mere sight of the king and his soldiers was normally enough to back away raiders.  Could there be an invading army?  Why would a large army bother with a village?  Wouldn’t the siege the castle instead? And the war had been over for years now, none of it made any sense.  Her sense of sorrow gave way to a new sense of hatred, far deeper than the annoyances of castle life.  Whoever dared strike her family down would pay dearly for this crime.

Clouds held back the next morning’s sunrise, but enough light escaped them to signal the start of a new day.  A knock on the door, followed by Trisha leaning her head into the door. “Will you be taking your bath this morning, Lady Victoria?”

“Yes, Trisha, I will need to look my part today.  There is business to be done.”

Several chamber maids moved in quietly as they each took soft, but deliberate steps to prepare a bath, find her suitable clothes and straighten the room.  Beatrice was not among them, and Victoria was glad, she was in no mood to spar with mother’s conscience today.

“We cannot find your crown,” Trisha reported.

When she realized where it might be, Victoria’s hand jumped to her mouth, as if to prevent herself from crying out.  “Check…check my brother’s chamber.  I gave it to him to wear the other day, when he was knighted.”

She allowed herself a slight tearful smile, and again, fought back any further would-be tears.  There would be time to mourn later.  After she finished dealing with inane layers of clothing, she looked in the mirror and presumed she was in attire formal enough to conduct business in the castle’s court.  “I am sorry milady, but we cannot find your crown.”

“Worry not, Miss Trisha, it is merely a symbol, I do not need it where I will be going after today.”

She opened her door and was surprised to see someone else near Oliver’s chair.  Normally, she only had someone to watch her door at night, but never in the daylight hours.  She had seen him around before, but never talked to him.  His forest green cloak was fringed with gold threads, indicating he was an officer in her father’s army.”

“I am Lieutenant Dalton Bryce, highest ranking officer left your Royal Guard,” he said with a bow. “Your safety remains in my hands.”

“My Royal Guard?” she said. “Well, I suppose that is true.  What is the readiness of your knights, Lieutenant?”

“They are ready at the word of the Viceroy.”

“Hmm, we seem to need to address the contradiction then.”

“Contradiction?”

“Aye, I have no need of more bodyguards, if you are indeed a part of my Royal Guard, then I need to know if you are ready to go to war for me.  I’ll deal with…the Viceroy myself.”

The obviously loyal soldier stood frozen to the ground, unsure of what to say, trying to process the two sets of commands that existed in his head. “Yes, milady, of course.  We are always ready.”

She nodded her head in approval and moved through the hall and down the stairs with a greater sense of purpose.  If the Grand Vizier, had already been assigning orders, he would be a dangerous obstacle in her path.  The man’s real name was Hakaru, but he had long insisted on the title “Grand Vizier” as it was something he presumably earned in his homeland, far away from the kingdom.  Victoria was amazed her father was able to stand a person who always insisted on war over diplomacy and always pushed for the kingdom to expand.  Hakaru had been a helpful war counsel to her father, but he was restless in the time of peace.  She never trusted him, as he always appeared to have one arm around her father, one hand in the treasury and an eye for king’s crown.  If she was indeed the last of her family’s line, Victoria had a sense only one of them would be a permanent resident of the castle.

Lieutenant Bryce nervously followed the princess, trying to remain exactly two steps behind her and to her left, as a sign of respect.  However, she was moving quickly enough, it was hard for him to maintain a proper pace.  Victoria never slowed and saw that the king’s hall was already open and many men and women, some servants, others looked to be nobles of some sort, all buzzed about the Grand Vizier, who stood near a large table away from the main isle, that led to the king’s empty throne. She avoided looking directly at the large, ornate red velvet chair, but she was pleasantly surprised Hakaru was not already sitting in it.  The murmur of the crowd rose in unison at her appearance.

“Princess Victoria, please accept my condolences, your father was a great mean, the kingdom will miss him greatly,” said the old man.

“Yes, you do look quite sad today, Hakaru.”

He ignored her tone and bowed, as tension filled the room like an invisible choking gas. “I am still the Realms’ Grand Vizier, and the Viceroy here until such time you gain the crown.”

“Although I am not yet the supreme monarch, I am very curious as to why we are conducting business in my father’s hall, without my presence?” Victoria asked, desperately fighting the rage boiling within.

“I assumed you would be in mourning milady.”

Suddenly, Smythers, the Grand Vizier’s adjutant spoke in support. “Yes, it is true Lady Victoria, we dared not disturb you on this dreadful day.”

“Your concerns for my feelings are very touching gentlemen, they truly are, but I would suggest that you not hold such officious gatherings in the future, without including me.”

“Of course not, please accept my most humble apologies milady,” said the Vizier, without looking at her.

“Yes, yes, we are most sorry, princess” echoed Smythers.

Victoria started to wonder if Smythers was ever more than two feet away from his master.

“Please bring me up to date. What is being done to avenge my family and our kingdom?” she asked.

The Vizier nodded to Smythers, who happily explained the plan, “Our most wise Viceroy has called up reserves from all of the eastern nobles and activated the area militia, to compliment our knights here.  In one hour, we shall sent out two dozen knights, led by Lieutenant Bryce, merely to scout out the enemy’s position.  He will send word and we will march our armies from here, as they form over the next several days, and obliterate the Northmen.”

“So, we are certain then, that the Northmen have indeed broken the treaty?”

“Absolutely, who else could it be, princess?” asked the Grand Vizier, in the most condescending voice he could muster.

“Very good then, I will be accompanying the scouting group.”

The entire room was first stunned to silence, followed by a couple bursts of laughter.  Soon the laughter spread, as each person became more confidant the princess was cleverly utilizing humor to ease the tension in the hall.  Then it was clear she was not joking.

“The Captain of the Royal Guard is dead!  My father and brother are dead!  You would expect that I would send others out to die, whilst I twiddle my thumbs and hope all ends well? Victoria asked.  “You must not think much of me at all, my lords.”

            “But Lady Victoria, you are the last of the divine line, should you fall, the House of Lancaster will have no heir to hold the throne,” pleaded Smythers.

            “Yes, milady, the law requires that the last female heir must find and marry a husband to be her king within two cycles of the full moon,” added the Grand Vizier.

            “You continue to mock me with this nonsense.  I somehow doubt my brother would have had only 60-days to find a queen to rule at his side,” Victoria chided.

            “The prince would have been under…similar pressures milady, ‘tis truly the law, or Parliament will seek to replace you,” insisted the Grand Vizier.

            “Then I have two cycles to hunt down the heathens and avenge the deaths of my family, and of our people,” and the princess narrowed her eyes, “My father taught everyone in this room, that we cannot sit idly by or the heathens will think us weak, and return in greater numbers.  I will not allow them a moment’s rest until they have all either fallen under my blade or learned again to fear our banner.”

            “Milady, your words inspire us, but I cannot allow it,” said the Vizier.  “You are not yet the queen, and your father bade me Viceroy -- to hold your safety above all others.”

            “You will not allow me?’ her voice dropped to a near hiss,  “And here I thought you were among the most wise amid my father’s servants.”

            “Be as disrespectful as you like Princess Victoria, but I swore an oath to the crown.”

            “Then your oath is to me old man.”

            “You cannot talk to the Grand Vizier with this tone!” squealed Smythers.

            “We are more similar than I ever imagined, young princess,” said the Grand Vizier, with a new sense of calm. “Neither of us is skilled in negotiation, we seem to prefer conflict.  Very well then, if you think yourself a warrior, you need only defeat a member of the Royal Guard, and you may have your wish to accompany our brave knights.”

            “So be it, name your…champion.”

            “Lieutenant Bryce is our senior officer now, I will let him teach the necessary lesson of the day.  Both of you meet in the center of the courtyard in twenty minutes, so that the knights may continue on to their duty within the hour.”

            “I protest lords and ladies, I am not here to harm the king’s daughter,” Bryce said nervously.

            “Then use a wooden training sword, I don’t care, knock her sword away in single combat and be done with it,” commanded the Vizier.

            “Do not worry about me Lieutenant, in fact I insist you use all the weapons at your disposal, I have trained all my life for this chance,” Victoria warned.

            The knight nodded and walked away toward the courtyard and Victoria moved to the stairs, so she could get out of the silly dress and gather her equipment.  The new adrenaline in her veins made her feel like she was floating up the staircase. It was unreal to her that this  opportunity to prove that she could be as capable as any warrior, was at the expense of her family.  Certainly, Thad knew what she could do, but father never appeared to approve or support her desires to fight by his side.  As she dressed, she realized this would be the first time most of the nobles would see a princess wearing pants, and she smiled at the concept of disturbing them.  She then pulled the chain mail shirt on, it was a bit long, reaching almost to her knees, but she did not mind the extra protection and it still allowed her greater mobility than full metal plate armor.  She wrapped her sword belt around her waist and hung the scabbard on her left hip.  Although she had not yet found a suitable shield, most of the large shield the guards used were too heavy for her to hold with one arm, she felt she was ready for this test.  Victoria pulled her long hair up and formed a single pony tail, and secured it with string, just below where the back of her helm reached her neckline, in hopes that would be enough to keep her hair out of the way.  Then she donned her leather boots and gloves, and skipped down the steps.  Oliver was up early, likely unable to sleep off his night shift because of the loss of his king.  “Does the Lady need a squire to assist her?”

            “A sweet gesture my old friend,” Victoria said with a smile, “I would be honored to have you in my corner Oliver.”

            Only a quarter of an hour had passed, and yet it was ample enough time for a very large gathering of humanity in the outer courtyard.  The morning sun finally broke through the cloud cover to show off the dew still clinging to green grass of the courtyard.  Loud voices announced her arrival, “Make way, stand aside, Princess Victoria has arrived, make way!”

            Woman curtsied and moved out of the way as best they could in their long dresses and veiled hats, nobles gave a bow, stepped aside and studied this strange combatant.  Guards on the walls could be seen making last minute wagers, shaking hands or exchanging coins.  Despite people speaking in hushed tones, the shear numbers of voices made a substantial buzz as Victoria stepped off the cobblestone path and onto the grass.  Oliver stepped forward, drew out his longsword and drove it into the soft ground.  The sword wavered momentarily and became still, standing at attention next to the grey haired guardian.  “Should your weapon be broken, please use mine as a backup,” Oliver said.  “Step carefully this morn, the grass is long and wet.”

            “I think it to my advantage, Oliver, but thank you for your observations.”

            A mere ten paces away, Bryce’s squire worked quickly to secure the last of the knight’s armored leggings and handed his master a large shield, covered by the Realm’s green and gold colors and the three lions of her father’s crest.  She could not see the Grand Vizier, but she knew he had to be watching somewhere, perhaps from a castle window.  She hoped he had a good view.  Trumpets sounded in unison from the roof of the towering castle and the crowd grew quiet.  Smythers moved out from the masses and stepped in between  Bryce and the princess.  Victoria noticed that he still leaning over a bit and realize that perhaps he did not constantly cower behind the Vizier, but suffered from a slightly hunched back.  Smythers raised his arms above his head the best he could and leaned up to gain eye contact with the throng around him.

            “Lords and Ladies, welcome!” he yelled.  “Please know the king’s daughter insisted on this event and that no one intends harm her.  We are here to witness her desire to become a soldier.  This duel will go until one opponent asks for quarter.”

            “More is the pity,” Victoria said.

            “Milady?” asked Smythers.

            “I think we could have doubled the audience with a duel to the death.”

            Nervous laughter filtered through the crowd, one guard gave the thumb’s up to the idea.

            “We do not have to do this,” Bryce implored.

            “We do not, but I must Lieutenant,” Victoria said. “I ask but one favor.”

            She reached across and drew her sword with her right hand and stepped forward.

            “What is that milady?”

            “Do not step lightly, or I will show no mercy this day.”

            His eyes widened, and then anger shot across his face as he pulled a claymore sword over his shoulder, dropped his shield and readied his weapon with both hands, “Very well.”

            When the princess smiled, the crowd began to whisper again.  A familiar voice sounded off in her head, it was Thad, reminding her of her training. “The gladius works best for you, because it takes advantage of your speed, it is a blocking weapon first and a piercing weapon second.  Most of your foes will think it no more than a dagger, but it is of stronger metal and I have put an edge to it on the right side of the blade, adding danger to your offensive swing.  Always, always use your speed and use the weight and strength of your foe against him.”

            Despite the challenge of the young princess, Bryce’s first swing was half hearted at best and she easily deflected the blow.  In turn, Victoria stepped forward, knocked his sword back, and then moved behind him and kicked his backside with her boot, shoving him forward. Somehow, he maintained his balance.  “You are not trying Lieutenant!”

            He pulled his helmet visor down, covering the greater shade of red filling his face, while the laughter among the crowd provided him a new intensity.  He charged at her, with both arms above his head, holding the large sword.  As he was nearly a foot taller than her, when he closed in, his shadow blocked her view of the morning sun and he brought a towering blow down with all his strength.  She knew she would not be able to fully block the swing, so she moved to her right, and deflected just enough of the blow to avoid being cut in two.  The clash of metal echoed through the courtyard, above the cheers of the crowd. “Much better Bryce,” added a nearly breathless princess.

            Bryce regained his balance, after his last overextended swing and set himself for another as he ran at her, moving quick for a man with so much armor on.  This time he managed a series of swings, all attempting to knock the smaller sword from the hands of the princess.  Victoria methodically blocked every swing, but the force of his attacks kept moving her back.  She would be trapped against the crowd, so she continued to sidestep as she block his swings, trying to keep open space behind her.  Sweat that had formed on her brow began to move down around her eyes, but there was no time to brush it away.  A strong side swipe from Bryce’s sword caught her unaware, and while she managed to block it, the blow knocked her several feet back and almost off her feet.  Bryce quickly closed the gap with a maddened charge at his smaller foe.  Victoria measured his speed and as he brought down a two-handed swing, she dropped on her back.  Bryce could not stop his forward motion and started to fall on her, but the princess placed her feet on his midsection and continued rolling back.  He tumbled over the top of her, as her legs simply used his momentum to shove him in the direction of his charge.  He fell onto his back and she rolled to her feet ,brought her sword down to his neck, in between his helm and chest piece.

            “I yield to the Lady,” yelled a frustrated voice.

            Cheers erupted in the middle of the stunned members of the audience.

            “We best be on our way, my family’s killers are loose upon our lands,” Victoria said as she reached out a hand to help the fallen knight.

            He did not budge.

            “No harm done here today Lieutenant, not many here knew I have spared with my brother since I was nine-years old.”

            “I knew milady,” said a voice from within a closed helm. “It will not change the opinion of my men. How can I lead them now?”

            “Perhaps you could ask each of them if they would like to challenge me next,” Victoria noted with a sense of satisfaction.  “You were very brave to face me here today, you had nothing to gain and everything to lose, but I had to have this duel.  I am grateful.”

            Slowly, he reached his hand up to hers and the crowd cheered again.  With Oliver’s aid, she was able to help the knight to his feet.  The people began to speak in hushed tones again as a figure pushed through them.

            “Well played, well played indeed,” said the Grand Vizier. “I am a man of my word, you may join the scouting expedition, at your risk, Princess Victoria.”

            She took a moment to wipe the sweat from her brow, stepped within inches of the taller, elder man and looked up into his face. “You forget yourself, Sir,” as she poked a finger into his chest.  “I never needed your damned permission. I am Princess Victoria, the last of the line from the House of Lancaster.  In two month’s time, inane rules of marriage or no, I will be your queen.  You should have remembered that before treating me and the memory of my father with such disrespect. If I were you old man, I would not pray for my safe return.”

            Anyone within hearing distance of her words was stunned to silence.

            “Lieutenant!”

            “Yes, Lady.”

            “You said your knights were ready?”

            “Yes Lady.”

            “Good, have them on the road in ten minutes, and we will hunt down our enemy.”

            “Very good milady, we will await you on the road.”

            Smythers and the Grand Vizier bowed together and backed away, but Hakaru kept a cold stare on the unflinching princess.

            “And upon my return, we will look at changing some of these ridiculous rules,” she added.

            She turned to Oliver, “Will you stay and keep an eye on things for me?”

            “Please, allow me to go with you,” Oliver pleaded.

            “I have already lost so much, I do not think I could bear to lose another person dear to me.”

            “If something should happen to you, how could I ever live with me self?  Oliver said. “I have nearly rotted to death in that stinkin’ chair in the castle.  Let me do my job, let me protect you as your father charged me to do.”

            After an uncomfortable silence, “So be it, you have been good fortune for me this morning, although I never needed your sword,” she said with a wink.

            “Aye, you were brilliant milady.”

            A new voice from behind her, surprised the princess. “Well, then you do have some of your mother’s heart.”

            “Miss Beatrice, I did not expect to see you out here,” Victoria turned and replied.

            “I packed you some things, food, practical clothing and the like.”

            “You…knew.  You knew I would win.”

            “I watched you beat on your brother your entire life, of course I knew,” Beatrice said without smiling.

            Victoria threw her arms around Beatrice and held her for a moment, leaving sweat stains on her apron.

            “Yes, yes dear, some of your mother’s heart is in there among all that anger you carry around,” Beatrice said, trying to brush her apron in vain.  “I hope you find what you are looking for, milady.”

            The princess looked to fight back some tears, but then she turned to her inner focus and rage and thought about her mission to avenge the deaths of her father and brother.  Within minutes Oliver had gathered her horse from the stables and met up with the column of knights, lined up two across and six deep, one held a banner of the Realm, slightly unfurled with a morning breeze.  Lieutenant Bryce stood by his horse out in front of the contingent, awaiting the young princess and her elderly assistant.

            “Shall we investigate the village first, Lady Victoria, or try to estimate our enemy’s escape path?” Bryce asked. “If it was the Northmen, they always raid and retreat back over the West River.”

            “Let us see the village first, to see if anyone survived from the initial attacks and who may have witnessed the raid.”

            “As you wish,” Bryce said, as he stepped up into his saddle and threw his other leg around his horse.  Sunlight flickered and bounced around the shining armor as the group slowly moved down the road.

            Bryce went on ahead of the main group with two knights to scout along the road and to watch for any chance of an ambush.  A column of smoke emanating from the horizon grew larger as they moved closer to the village.  Two and a half hours had passed and the smells of smoke  and death filled the air.  The princess moved to the bottom of the hill, she had visited this place one before and remembered the place had been built upon a plateau on the top of the hill. The Lieutenant’s voice boomed from the top of the hill that he and his scouts had already ascended, “Do not allow the princess any closer to this place!”

            “I have seen death before, who do you think tend to the wounded and dead after you battles?!” she yelled back at the hill.  “Patching wounds and preparing the dead for burial is women’s work after all.”

            She continued up the hill and no one moved to stop her.  Bryce walked down toward her. “I beg of you milady, do not move beyond me. There are horrors there that I have not seen before in all my days as a soldier.  And, and…your father….,” his voice broke.

            “My father?!”

            She ran past the knight, eluding his attempt to grab her arm.  Smoke rising from many smoldering houses darkened the air.  Bodies were strewn about like broken toys, many vaguely human forms missing limbs and heads or both.  The slaughterhouse near the castle kitchen smelled better than the acrid air currently occupying her lungs. Bryce ran after her.

            “Where?! Where is he?!”

            Bryce pointed to an open area, where the village town square used to be.  As she ran, she noticed bodies forming a circle around her father, all of the finest knights of his Royal Guard lay dead around him.  Or what was left of him.  She recognized the remnants of her father’s breastplate, but only his upper torso remained, his legs were nowhere near and dried blood caked over where his gentle face used to be.  This time, she could not fight the bile in the back of her throat, and her knees gave way.  She vomited several times and it took a moment to realize Bryce was patting her on the back, trying to comfort her in some small way.  She wiped her mouth with her glove and tried to gather her thoughts. “Has my brother been found?”

            “Nay milady, not yet,” Bryce replied quietly.

            “Who could have done this?”

            “The Northmen have been known to…dismember their foes in the past, but I confess, I have never seen anything of the like.  Many wounds are not consistent with weapons I know.”

            He pointed to a rounded puncture in her father’s armor, “No man I have seen could carry a spear large enough to make that wound.”

            “Have you sent a runner back to the castle, to assemble our army?”

            “I have, milady.”

            Oliver finally made it up the hill and moved to help her up.  He avoided looking at the dead, as he considered it unlucky and impolite.

            “Let us find our enemy then. These actions here cannot go unpunished,” as she reached for Oliver’s hand.