The High King: Book Two of the 'Riothamus' trilogy (10 page)

Maran put the
papers down and sighed, “If he can be brought here in time he will
Arantur. We are doing everything…”

There was a
sudden clatter of footsteps heard outside the doors of the great
hall and a familiar figure burst through.

“Darven!
Whatever’s the matter?” Aran’s head snapped up at the
intrusion.

The Wolf
Leader quickly bowed his head, “Forgive me my lords but there is a
great delegation arrived. They are waiting for you Aran.”

Aran was
already halfway to the door, “Who?”

Darven waited
until Maran had joined them then the three men hastily made their
way down the spiral stairs of the internal Keep.

“Embassies
from the southern towns and cities,” he said over his shoulder.
“Still more plainsmen, mages, Guardsmen, there are at least three
dozen people.” Darven added his voice edged with excitement.

Maran smiled
in relief, “I was worried that the Guard would not have had enough
time to collect them all.”

The three men
hurried to the main gatehouse and horse yards, where a great
company of people were dismounting and overseeing the removal of
luggage and belongings. Captain Taran, who was in the thick of the
crowd and hoarsely bawling out instructions to any guardsman who
was unfortunate enough to be within sight, spotted Aran and
immediately knelt down and bowed his head. The people about him
looked startled towards the trio, and surmising that one of the two
young men was the heir, immediately followed his lead and knelt.
Darven seeing them kneeling, drew away, and started to gather the
unloaded horses, leading them towards stabling, whilst Archmage
Maran walked over to one side to speak quietly to one of the newly
arrived mages. This intentional abandonment by his two companions
only heightened the awareness of the crowd upon Aran and he quickly
moved to speak.

“Greetings
all,” he said clearly, “I am Arantur, last of the Andurian line and
Prince of Andur’s Keep. I bid you welcome to this place.” He looked
upon them kneeling in the dust, “Please get up,” he said, “For
until tomorrow I ask for no great formality from you all.” He
watched until they all stood, “Please see Captain Taran about your
accommodations within the Keep,” he added.

He saw the
nods and curious smiles, and seeing Maran beckoning him over, went
to join the newly arrived mages.

“Prince
Arantur,” Maran began, “I would like to introduce you to some
others that have come to witness your coronation. Here are Mages
Trenny, Aold and Hela, they are all Weathermages.” Aran gazed at
the three and nodded to them, he had immediately recognised the
small blonde Weathermage Hela from his brief visit to Glaive.

“The next
three are Solak, Urbar and Genn, they are Healermages,” Aran smiled
and nodded.

“And finally
Cela, Tedur and Landey, they are of course Earthmages,” Aran smiled
and inclined his head in greeting.

“There are
some other people here who also claim an acquaintance,” a voice
came from the back of the crowd.

Aran stared
and to his deep relief, saw Mage Trevan making his way through the
mass of people.

“Trevan! I am
so glad you made it back. I have been worrying endlessly about
you,” Aran burst out, impulsively hugging his friend.

Trevan
exchanged a telling look with Archmage Maran.

“Look what
happens when I am away for just a few weeks,” Trevan said smiling.
“The heir to the Andurian line is found, and who should it be, but
my young friend Arantur of Leigh.”

Aran moved
back grinning, “Did you suspect at all Trevan?”

The older mage
pursed his lips, “I began to…especially after seeing you with
Archmage Maran at Glaive. You are both very similar in features and
temperament.”

“Arantur! Thy
face hast been missed sorely…dost this now mean that thou won’t be
returning to the forge?” Aran spun around in confusion, Trevan
quite forgotten.

“Master Cody,
are you here also?”

The large
blacksmith, almost unrecognisable in his travelling clothes stepped
out from the crowd.

“Aye lad and
am wearied from much hard riding.”

Aran hastened
over and warmly clasped the hand of his old master, “Did the Guard
bring you?”

Cody nodded,
“When thy Guards came to the forge I was much surprised. I dust not
know if I had erred or not. But when thy Guards told me I must come
to thine Keep, to witness the coronation of the last heir of Andur,
thou couldst have knocked me over I was so amazed.”

Aran was all
smiles, “So they told you I was to be king.”

Cody replied,
“Aye lad, I always knew thee had strength and quality.” He looked
questioning at Aran, “Art thou truly the last of Andur’s line?”

Aran nodded,
“And Metalmage and Warriormage. Cody, do you think less of me for
all these new titles?”

The blacksmith
stared at his young friend, “Nay lad, if the province had to be
ruled by someone, I am only glad that thou art the one to be chosen
for it.”

Aran looked
around, “Has Sed and his parents come as well?”

Cody shook his
head, “Sed took the news heavily Arantur, I dust not think he is
overly glad his foster brother will be King.”

Aran frowned
at that, “And his family feels that way too?”

Cody shook his
head, “Nay lad, thy old family were astounded by the news. They
felt shy about coming here and pleaded with the Guard to excuse
them. They did not like the idea of travelling so far from
Leigh.”

Aran nodded,
understanding, “I am not surprised for they are not adventurous
people. I will call on them when we travel through Leigh on our way
to the border.”

Cody stared at
Aran in some bewilderment, “Thou intend to return to Leigh?”

“Aye Cody, but
only briefly,” Aran replied, “I have a war to fight.”

The blacksmith
stepped back in surprise, “The Thakur raids?”

Aran nodded,
“I ought not to say more, but the situation is far graver than any
of us feared.” Aran met the eyes of his old master, “I would ask
you to keep secret what I have told you. Now is not the time the
spread any tidings of war.”

Cody nodded in
agreement.

Archmage Maran
put a hand on Aran’s shoulder, “There are many more here who would
speak with you Arantur. Will you receive them here, or shall I ask
them to see you later in the great hall?”

Aran gazed
about, and for the first time noticed a great crowd surrounded him,
all who were staring curiously at him.

Aran nodded,
“I will meet them now. I do not wish to seem aloof or
unapproachable.”

Maran smiled,
“Very well.”

*

Later in the
great hall, Aran was sitting around the high table with Darven, the
Archmage and Captain Taran.

“What are the
arrangements for tomorrow?” Aran asked, once he was brought up to
date on the details of the ongoing mobilisation of the southern
Legions.

Maran leant
back in his seat and cleared his throat, “The crowning will happen
at midday. Everyone will gather in the throne room whilst you wait
outside the Keep with the plainsmen, Darven and your bondsman. The
Keep will be initially closed to you, but the Guard will
ceremoniously draw aside when you show them the proof of your
ancestry by holding aloft the King’s Sword.”

Aran stared
curiously at Maran, “Is this traditional, the waiting outside.”

The Archmage
nodded, “Aye…since the making of the King’s Sword. The purpose of
this part of the ceremony is to demonstrate that only a true heir
of the Andurian line has the right to enter the Keep, and be
crowned.” Maran fell silent for a moment, obviously remembering his
own coronation. “After you are granted access to the Keep, Darven,
your bondsman and the plainsmen will fall in behind you along with
those of the Guard that are not actually on duty at the gatehouse.
You will then lead them to the internal Keep and upstairs to the
throne room. When you reach the throne room the doors will be
opened to you and you will walk up alone to the throne chairs.”

Aran nodded,
committing it to memory, “Then what?”

“There will be
some symbolic words and actions by myself and Delana the priestess
then you will be crowned.” Maran said.

“Then I am
King?”

The Archmage
nodded, “After that you will sit down on the left hand throne…it
will be the one draped in the dark blue king’s mantle. All the
delegates will come up to you individually and offer you their
fealty, and they will additionally present to you a clod of earth
from each city. This is to represent your authority over the
province. All the clods of earth will be placed into a special dish
made from the bloodwood tree. You will ceremoniously mix all the
earth together to represent all parts of the province being as one.
After that, you will lead everyone from the throne room down to one
of the courtyards of the old section of the Keep. Into a specially
prepared plot the earth from the bowl will be placed, and with it
will be planted an oak sapling which I understand has been brought
to you by the latest delegation of plainsmen. This is to represent
the renewed Andurian line growing again in Andur’s Keep, and
sustained by the province. The young tree will be sprinkled with
water made sacred by the Priestess. It is also her job to ensure
the care and maintenance of the young tree.”

Aran nodded
again, “All this is traditional?” he asked.

Maran smiled
and inclined his head, “It has been many generations since an oak
grew in the king’s garden. The last one was ritually felled when
the Andurian line was assassinated. Its wood provided the pyre for
the bodies of King Alexi and his family.”

Aran got up
and paced the floor of the great hall, “How can you be sure that
the same fate won’t fall upon my family? I am sure there must be
Thakurian spies at work in the province. It is certain that they
must be already riding back to their borders with news of the
renewed Andurian line,” he added.

Maran nodded,
“That is highly likely. They would be remiss if they haven’t
established an espionage network.”

Captain Taran
grated, “There is no way that a Thakur assassin will reach you my
lord. To do so they would have to fight their way through the
entire ranks of the Guard.”

“Then they
will have to reckon with the mages,” added Maran with a frown.
“What happened to King Alexi and his family was an aberration. Our
defences will never be so lax again.”

Aran turned
away, “Be certain of it…the province cannot afford to again lose
the Andurian line. Especially now with the Thakur threatening our
borders.”

Walking over
to the windows of the great hall Aran eyed the darkening sky, “It’s
getting late and I am holding you all from your dinner,” he
said.

Darven stood,
“It is the night before your coronation my lord. Would you like me
to wait up with you?”

Aran shook his
head, “No,” he smiled at his friend, “But thank you…it will be a
busy day tomorrow and I will not be long for bed.”

Maran joined
Aran by the windows, “If the rest of you would like to leave…I have
some last minute instructions for Arantur.”

Darven and
Captain Taran nodded and the Archmage silently watched them leave
the room.

Aran turned to
the old man, “What is it? Is something wrong?”

Maran shook
his head, “No, however I’ve had word from Healermage Anesta that
Alissa is a maiden, so the mages are fully supportive of her as
your choice for Queen.”

Aran nodded
and stared out of the window, “Good, so when do I take on the
Council?”

Maran turned
and his eyes roved across the ancient wall hangings, “As soon as
you are King. Although I warn you that it will be a messy fight,
they seem hell-bent on their own choice.”

“Can I take
them on before I ride to war?” Aran asked.

Maran nodded,
“I would advise so, especially since there is a minimum six month
engagement before you two can wed.”

Aran turned in
some surprise, “Why so long?”

Maran
shrugged, “It’s always been that way, even before Andur.”

Aran laughed
and the worry lines smoothed away from his face, “Then my old
friend I won’t be the one to upset centuries of tradition.” He
grinned again “Is there anything else?”

Maran nodded,
“I’ve spoken to the horsetribes again. You saw that more of them
have arrived?”

“Aye,” Aran
turned back to the Archmage, “Has there been any change?”

“They received
our delegation enroute from the Keep. The ones that arrived today
came straight from the meeting.”

“Good,” Aran
smiled wryly, “At least we know our group reached them. Have they
received any new omens from their SpiritDreamer?”

The Archmage
shook his head, “However, there are almost a dozen now camped
outside our walls. I have not ventured into their camp but I
understand that a SpiritDreamer is in their midst.”

Aran’s
eyebrows shot up, “Really? You surprise me Maran, I wonder why he
hasn’t come and made himself known to us…to you especially?”

The Archmage
shrugged expressively, “They are an odd people. Although they are
strong in the magepower few mages come out of their number and the
ones that have, have been almost exclusively Earthmages.” Maran
added with a smile, “That might explain why Alissa has a latent
Earthmage Ability.”

Aran looked up
in surprise from the wall hanging he was studying, “Why, in what
way?”

Maran stared
at the young man, “I thought you would have guessed. Alissa’s
mother was a plainswoman.”

“What?”

“It’s true,”
Maran replied “It’s not general knowledge, but quite a few
plainswomen find husbands outside their own people. Andur’s Keep is
close enough to the plains for a woman from the tribes to feel
happy about settling here.”