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Sunday, October 28, 2012

Short-Story Sunday - Two Kings; Part I: The Blessing

((This is part of the new weekly schedule I have been talking about. I may not always post the entirety of the story, or I may post the unedited, raw draft. I will do my best to keep up in posting it in its complete form, edited as much as possible. It may take a few weeks so please be patient if they aren't finished or have errors. Feel free to leave suggestions or editing tips if you see something I've missed. I am open to all kinds of criticism.

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High upon a hill, overlooking a wide, snow-capped valley sat a modest castle and its various surrounding edifices. Those included stables and a small farm, for the mighty King was above forcing his people to give him their own hard-worked for crops and staples. Around a small alcove a trees were a couple of staff houses, which itself was allotted a community farm. Self-sufficiency, the King oft claimed, was why their Kingdom was lavish in the riches of nature and culture. He was well adored by his staff, who were given a modest pay and sometimes extra, when the Kingdom had a good year. The people loved their King, he did not impose too many taxes, he did not impose his rule past their door stops, he was extremely generous and did not engage in discrimination. Once a year, he set apart budget for dressings and costumes for those who could not afford it; as all were invited to the yearly Harvest Ball. Thankfully, the people swear, he is such a good king their peasant caste is modest in size. All who attend are asked to give something - whether it be a bag of gold, a loaf of bread and cheese, or a mouse for the cats - and all gave without having to be forced, so thankful they were.

Two officials accompanied him this day, as he strode out from the stables, a beautiful Palomino steed in rein. Each had a white and brown horse, adorned simply, as the King did not need to flash his presence for respect. The king wore his Royal Bow across his broad shoulders proudly, it had been passed down generations from Firstborn to Firstborn. Usually this path was muddy in such weather, but the snow this day was soft as a feather. The trees were stark against the white, almost as if they were standing straighter just for the King himself. The King smiled to himself, proud of this land he reigned and did not spoil, proud to be its leader.

He had much to think about this journey - for at this past Harvest Ball his eldest, his firstborn son, had proposed marriage to a woman of a neighboring kingdom, Irana, who had been visiting a relative. Unlike King Liadan, this particular kingdom was ruled by its widowed Queen Ismene, a ruthless woman who imposed many restrictions, laws, and taxes upon her people. Essentially, all of her people were peasants, of meager land, home, food, and gold which she hoarded for herself. While he spat disgust at the way she ruled - he also did not want to bring war upon his people. It was not that he did not sympathize with her people's plight - he just did not know enough firsthand to take intelligent action. It was unwise to barge into a situation unarmed in intelligence and in weaponry.

First, he would meet the Queen. Ask what her laws were upon inter-Kingdom marriage, if any, especially since Irana would one day become Queen of his Kingdom. With her being a peasant, he of course would have to enlist the help of his wife to teach her certain things, however that was of no consequence or concern really, peasants oft knew more about what is just and intelligent, how to lead and run their communities than do the kind of aristocrats that obsess over money, reputation, and trivial pursuits who know not of hard work.

"Lio?" the voice of his right hand guard, Saxon, addressed him by his nick name. Saxon was cloaked in deep burgundy, a fur cloak around his shoulders. Unlike in other kingdoms, knights did not need to wear much armor here. Usually just some chain mail and some shin guards sufficed in the occasional scruff with bandits. He was not un-handsome, he had a thick beard trimmed short, the color of mud. His nose was straight, his cheekbones high, and his brown eyes furrowed beneath thick brows. He cut his hair short compared to the other men, as he found his hair too unruly to grow. He was of average height but build strong like an ox. He valued honor, valor, and as far as Liadan could tell, had a special connection to his family. His duty to his family overcame even his strong sense of duty to him, the King, and the people of the land.

"Yes? What is it?" he asked light-heartedly, trying not to impress the deep questions in his mind upon his concomitant.

"Might I spare a minute of your time to trouble a question from you? It is important." Saxon prodded cautiously. He had been musing over when this conversation would take place for a while now. Although not an ideal time, it had been a very busy and prosperous year and he had yet been able to see the King alone, well, not even semi-privately. This journey provided him with an opportunity. The King's mood seemed favorable, not that it was a genuine concern... however he wanted things to go as smoothly as the snow laid in front of them.

"Yes, yes!" King Liadan beckoned Saxon to ride up next to him. "What is weighing on your mind, my friend?"

"Well, it is about Lady Gwenna. It has been many a month I have contemplated, and many a month I have watched your daughter, such a fair maiden, blossom. Her hair is raven black like the night, smooth as silk...her skin is creamy as the milk from the goats she milks each morn', her eyes blue as lapping water from her favorite fountain. She is such a beauty - good humored, easy-tempered, and as intelligent as her father..."

King Liadan cut in, "You would like to ask her hand in marriage."

Saxon swallowed, but sat a little straighter, "Yes, I would like to ask your daughter's hand in marriage. At the very least, a trial of courtship."

With a very large smile, he said "Very well, you have my blessing. Lest I remind you, it is Lady Gwenna who chooses her courtships and who her hand belongs to. I cannot promise you, nor force Gwenna into an affair. Also, lest I remind the both of you, that Prince Thorn is the firstborn and thus, will be King? Gwenna is second-born, and only entitled to Queenship should something ever befall my Thorn."

Saxon tried to hide his pleasure at the King's blessing, but the King could tell on his friend's face how happy he was. "Well, now, lest I not be too hurried in talking wedding plans?"

Saxon smiled too, for who could resist the jubilee of a wedding? "Well, I was hoping on Lady Princess Gwenna's preferences, but should she not have any, I had a few fancies. A spring wedding at the water's edge, and a feast afterwards right upon the shoreline. I know she does love the water. Lots of song and dance, too, of course. I suppose I will have to take a few lessons as I cannot tell which foot is my left!" He let out a good-natured laugh, and the King joined in.

"It sounds exactly as My Gwenna would want it. I'd be honored if she took you as her husband, I can think of no other noble and complementary a soul for her." Liadan was happy as this took his mind off of the darker questions looming. Two weddings, he mused, I'd have never thought my children would grow so quickly. He was thankful, at least, to have been given extra time with his children who had not felt the need to rush out as soon as their appropriate courtship ages had come to pass. Thorn and Gwenna were twenty and eighteen harvests, well beyond fourteen - the appropriate marrying age.

"Where would you think you will settle on property?" the King implored, keeping the chatter light-hearted as the terrain grew to thick tree canopy and the path melted to dirt. He knew they were not long far from the nearest settlement. He had been here just spring last, it was a very busy but honest place. The people had little crime, much friendship, and plenty of ale.

"I'm not sure, yet, Your Highness," to which the King interrupted "You know I dislike such implied superior pet names."

"Sorry, Lio," Saxon quipped, to which the King chuckled. "Well, I was thinking in a cusp of woods not far from the ocean. However, the ocean is half a day's journey on horse, and don't know if Lady Princess Gwenna would want to be so far from her family. It will be up to her, as I am not going to be too convicted as to disaffect her from being with me. I view her as my equal and overstepping my place and trying to press upon her my will would not come over well for that."

"I agree, my friend, I agree muchly. However her affinity to the sea may indeed be a draw for her, even if it is a while away. Wherever you both shall be happy." They fell into silence at this point as the afternoon waned to dinner time. They still had yet two or three hours until dusk, but they needed to stop and eat as the village neared.

The quickly approached and dismounted, leaving their horses in the care of the stables just outside the village proper. They tipped the stableman who appeared elated to have such few gold coins. As they approached the proper, the King's brows knitted together. His previously silent right-hand guard, Calledon, said mumbled incredulously. Saxon ran forward, surveying the village. Was this really the same town from just Spring last?

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