Guardian of the Crown: an Epic Fantasy Novel Read online

  And so it begins…

  A distant bark echoed through the Palace, and then, moments later, a not so small puppy rushed down the hallway, three servants in pursuit.

  Gerald knelt, letting the creature rush into his arms. "Have you decided on a name?"

  "Not yet. I'm afraid I'm at a loss when it comes to names."

  "You named your son."

  "Yes, but even that took weeks."

  "He's only a pup," said Gerald. "He doesn't care what you call him."

  "I know, but a name defines a person, or in this case, a dog, and I want to get it right." She looked at him and smiled. "I'm open to suggestions?"

  "Oh, no you don't. You're not foisting this off on me. He's your dog. You name him."

  "But he likes you so much!"

  "Well, let's see now. Do you remember how Tempus got his name?"

  "Of course," said Anna. "Albreda told us he was named Tempest, but his first owner couldn't pronounce it. Why, what are you thinking?"

  He smiled. "How about Storm?"

  "I like that, and it suits him, as he’s forever storming around the Palace. Very well. Storm it is."

  The arrival of a guard interrupted their conversation.

  "Your Majesty," the fellow said, bowing deeply. "Albreda has just arrived."

  "By way of magic?"

  "Yes, Majesty. She instructed me to inform you she bears important news."

  "Very well, tell her to meet us in my study." She turned to Gerald. "Where's Beverly?"

  "She and Aldwin are up in Hawksburg, visiting Aubrey. Why? Do you think you'll need her? I can send Revi to fetch her if you wish."

  "Not just yet. Let's find out what news Albreda brings before we jump to any conclusions. In the meantime, I'd like you with me for this meeting."

  "And Alric?"

  "He's still in Weldwyn and not expected to return until this evening." She set off for her study at a fast pace, Gerald hurrying after her, the pup cradled in his arms.

  Guardian Of The Crown

  Heir to the Crown: Book Eleven

  Paul J Bennett

  Contents

  Map of Merceria and Norland

  Map of The Twelve Clans

  Map of Weldwyn

  1. Wincaster

  2. Weldwyn

  3. Lochlan

  4. Claimant

  5. A Country in Ruins

  6. Arrangements

  7. Trouble

  8. The Tribunal Gathers

  9. The Wedding

  10. The Crypt

  11. Accusations

  12. Dungannon

  13. The Past

  14. Investigation

  15. A Meeting of Clan Chiefs

  16. Pressure

  17. Witness

  18. The Scholar

  19. Complications

  20. Proof

  21. Dragonweed

  22. Discovery

  23. The Prince

  24. A Plea For Help

  25. Chasing Rumours

  26. Preparations

  27. Drakewell

  28. Advice

  29. Traitor

  30. History

  31. Confession

  32. King at Last

  33. Tor-Maldrin

  34. Judgement

  35. Revelations

  36. The Thing From the Deep

  37. Investiture

  38. Execution

  39. The Dragon

  Epilogue

  Ashes - The Frozen Flame: Book One

  Also by Paul J Bennett

  About the Author

  Map of Merceria

  Map of Norland

  Map of The Twelve Clans

  Map of Weldwyn

  One

  Wincaster

  Autumn 966 MC* (*Mercerian Calendar)

  Gerald Matheson, Marshal of Merceria, yawned. The realm was theoretically at peace with Kythelia’s defeat and the Twelve Clans’ capitulation. Yet, you would’ve never known it from how the members of the Nobles Council argued over every detail.

  Queen Anna glanced his way, noting his tiredness. "Perhaps a break will serve us well," she said. "We shall reconvene tomorrow." With that, she rose, the signal the discussion was over.

  Everyone stood as she walked from the room, but as she neared the door, she slowed, turning back and looking at her advisors. "Lord Gerald, I wonder if I might have a word?"

  "Of course, Majesty," he replied. He soon joined her, happy to be free of the cloying atmosphere.

  "You looked like you needed rescuing," she said as they wandered down the hall.

  "You must admit, it's not the most exciting place to be."

  "True, but it can't be helped. The war put many issues aside, things we must now deal with."

  "You're the queen. Couldn’t you just delegate and disappear?"

  She chuckled. "You and I both know I would never do that. The people deserve a chance to be heard."

  "And by people, you mean nobles."

  "I might remind you they're not all nobles.”

  "You make a good point, Anna, but sometimes it just feels like the same old problems. Every time the nobles get together, all they want to do is push their own agendas."

  "I suppose that's Human nature. They say power corrupts, and the nobles of Merceria wield a great deal of that. My job, as queen, is to ensure they don't get carried away."

  "Easier said than done."

  "I'm surprised you're not more involved. After all, you are the Duke of Wincaster, and you have the queen’s ear. I think that would add a lot of weight to your words."

  "I'm not one to throw around my weight, as you well know."

  She smiled. "And for that, I am truly thankful. Now, tell me, how was Braedon last night? I hope he didn't give you and Lady Jane any difficulty?"

  "Not at all. Truth is, he slept most of the night. How was the play?"

  "Quite entertaining. I never thought someone could take one of Califax's comedies and translate it to the present day, but it worked nicely. Not bad for a story written over three hundred years ago."

  "I hear the Grand is reviving The King's Mistress. I hope you're not considering shutting it down like King Andred did?"

  She chuckled. "No, though perhaps you and I should go and see it. We never did find out how it ended. Do you think Lady Jane would enjoy it?"

  "I think so. Underneath that formal exterior is a heart full of passion." His went red in the face as he realized what he’d revealed.

  "Good. Then I'll bring Alric, and we can watch from the best seat in the house."

  "What about Braedon?"

  "He's much too young for a play like that. Don't worry. There are plenty of people around here to look after him for an afternoon."

  A distant bark echoed through the Palace, and then, moments later, a not so small puppy rushed down the hallway, three servants in pursuit.

  Gerald knelt, letting the creature rush into his arms. "Have you decided on a name?"

  "Not yet. I'm afraid I'm at a loss when it comes to names."

  "You named your son."

  "Yes, but even that took weeks."

  "He's only a pup," said Gerald. "He doesn't care what you call him."

  "I know, but a name defines a person, or in this case, a dog, and I want to get it right." She looked at him and smiled. "I'm open to suggestions?"

  "Oh, no you don't. You're not foisting this off on me. He's your dog. You name him."

  "But he likes you so much!"

  "Well, let's see now. Do you remember how Tempus got his name?"

  "Of course," said Anna. "Albreda told us he was named Tempest, but his first owner couldn't prono
unce it. Why, what are you thinking?"

  He smiled. "How about Storm?"

  "I like that, and it suits him, as he’s forever storming around the Palace. Very well. Storm it is."

  The arrival of a guard interrupted their conversation.

  "Your Majesty," the fellow said, bowing deeply. "Albreda has just arrived."

  "By way of magic?"

  "Yes, Majesty. She instructed me to inform you she bears important news."

  "Very well, tell her to meet us in my study." She turned to Gerald. "Where's Beverly?"

  "She and Aldwin are up in Hawksburg, visiting Aubrey. Why? Do you think you'll need her? I can send Revi to fetch her if you wish."

  "Not just yet. Let's find out what news Albreda brings before we jump to any conclusions. In the meantime, I'd like you with me for this meeting."

  "And Alric?"

  "He's still in Weldwyn and not expected to return until this evening." She set off for her study at a fast pace, Gerald hurrying after her, the pup cradled in his arms.

  * * *

  They’d just sat down when Albreda entered. Gerald, noticing how haggard she appeared, was immediately concerned.

  "Your Majesty," Albreda began, her voice breaking ever so slightly. "I regret to inform you Lord Richard Fitzwilliam, Baron of Bodden, is dead. He passed away peacefully in his sleep sometime last night."

  Gerald gasped. “Fitz? Dead? How? He was healthy as an ox!” A great sadness rose within him, his voice choking as he tried to continue. “He… was only a few years older than me.”

  "Even an ox has a natural life-span, and magic must inevitably bow to the ravages of time."

  Anna reached out, placing her hand on Gerald’s. “He was a great man,” she said, “and your mentor. Perhaps it might be best to take a few days to mourn your loss?”

  “I don’t understand,” he persisted. "Was he ill?"

  "Not as far as I’m aware,” replied the Druid. “We dined last evening, and he was in fine spirits."

  "I'm sorry for your loss, Albreda," said Anna. "I know you and he were very close. It must’ve been devastating to find he’d passed."

  “It was,” said Albreda, her calm breaking for a moment as a tear ran down her cheek. “I’ve lost loved ones before, but this time it’s different. We were, as you say, very close, and the thought of living without him feels… empty.”

  Gerald nodded. “I know exactly how you feel. I, too, have lost loved ones, and it never leaves you.”

  “Yet,” said Anna, “Fitz would be the first to tell you both that life must go on.” She squeezed his hand.

  “Yes, of course, although I can’t help but hope I’ll see him again one day in the Afterlife.”

  “Have you told Beverly?”

  “Not yet,” replied Albreda. “I only just returned from Bodden. Is she here in the capital?”

  "I'm afraid she's in Hawksburg,” said the queen. “Shall I send for her?"

  "No. I’ll go there myself. Such news is best delivered in the presence of friends, and Aubrey, being her cousin, must be told as well."

  "Please convey our deepest condolences on the loss of her father."

  "I will."

  "Are you sure you're up to it?" said Gerald. "You look… tired."

  "Sad tidings are not a cause for celebration!" she snapped back. "How would you expect me to look? Exuberant?" Albreda took a deep breath. "Sorry, Gerald. That was uncalled for, but it’s been a difficult morning. Fear not. I shall recover. With your permission, Majesty, I’ll recall to Hawksburg immediately."

  "Of course," said Anna. "I’ll send word you'll be using the magic circle."

  "Thank you." The Druid turned, leaving the room with no further discussion.

  "She's hurting," said Gerald. "She and Fitz were together for quite a while. I can well imagine the loss she's feeling right now."

  "We must keep an eye on her," said Anna. "Such a loss can drive a person to despair."

  "Surely you're not suggesting anything bad?"

  "Only that I fear loneliness will see her once again withdraw into the Whitewood and a life of solitude. If you recall, that was her life before she met Lord Richard. We must be sure she doesn't slip back into old habits."

  * * *

  Aubrey reached across the table, spearing a choice cut of beef. "And what's happening in Summersgate of late? I would’ve gone there myself if I hadn't been busy preparing the Conservatory of Magic."

  "Not much," replied Beverly. "Prince Alric went there to see about sorting out the Twelve Clans, but we've no word on his progress of late."

  "Speaking of the conservatory," said Aldwin, "how is that going?"

  "Well," said Aubrey, "we're not ready to begin classes yet, but the old Royal Estate will suit us well once we've finished cleaning things up a bit."

  "Meaning?"

  "We're stripping out some rooms to use as classrooms. We also thought we'd knock down a few walls and make bigger rooms for sleeping, something like those barracks of yours in Wincaster, Beverly."

  "They're not my barracks, but I understand what you mean. And on the topic of students, you were trying to detect magical ability using a spell. Did you get that working?"

  "I did, though it's a little more difficult than I anticipated."

  "Oh? In what way?"

  "The concept is simple," explained Aubrey. "I use a variation on the spell that lets me enter the spirit realm. Only this one allows me to remain in the material world and merely peek into it."

  "I'm not sure I understand," said Aldwin. "Are you suggesting it lets you see spirits without entering their world?"

  "That is precisely the case. My theory is that anyone capable of using magic has a distinctly coloured aura."

  "So, what's the problem?"

  "A fully trained mage has a bright aura, the colour of which reveals their magical power. It appears, however, the untrained possess auras much paler, so pale it's tough to identify."

  "And what does this mean for the future of your conservatory?"

  "I don't know yet. I identified five people I believe are potential mages, two of them Orcs, but only time will tell if I'm correct."

  "That's still better than how the Weldwyn mages do it," said Beverly. "Might I ask what type of mages you identified?"

  "Two earth, one fire, one life, and of course, Princess Edwina, who has the potential to use Air Magic."

  "I’d heard of Edwina's discovery, but fire? That's the last type I would’ve expected. There’s no history of Fire Mages in Merceria, is there?"

  "No," replied Aubrey, "but it's not unknown amongst the Orcs, just not in recent memory."

  "And will you teach them the magical alphabet first, or use the Orcs’ methods?"

  "A little of both. There are many what we call universal spells, those which any type of mage can use. I thought we'd start with the orb of light. At least that way, they'll have a light source for further study."

  They heard a familiar voice in the hallway: "I hope I'm not interrupting?"

  "Albreda," said Aubrey. "Come in and join us. We were just chatting about—" The sight of the pale, unsteady Druid took her by surprise.

  "I’m afraid I am the bearer of sad tidings," said Albreda.

  Beverly drew a sharp breath, holding tight to her fear. "It's Father, isn't it? What's happened?"

  "I'm afraid he’s taken the final trip to the Afterlife. He passed peacefully in his sleep last night."

  Aubrey reached out, touching her cousin’s arm. "Beverly, I'm so sorry."

  “I should’ve been there,” said Beverly, a sob escaping her lips.

  “There’s nothing you could’ve done,” said Albreda. “The Afterlife waits for no one.”

  Beverly stood, crossing the room to embrace the Druid. She wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. Instead, she held the woman tightly, her tears flowing freely.

  Albreda squeezed her back. It was a strange sensation for the Mistress of the Whitewood, for she’d lost her own family
when she was but a young girl.

  “I’m here for you,” she said finally. “And know that the Whitewood will always welcome you.”

  Beverly released her and wiped her tears. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. I know you and Father never married, but I’ve always considered you family. I hope my father’s passing won’t change that?”

  The old woman straightened her back, but her eyes held little of their usual fire, a stark change from her typical appearance. “Family? Yes. I’d like that very much.”

  “Come, sit,” said Aubrey, her voice barely above a whisper. “You must be devastated.”

  Albreda joined them at the table, looking small as if she were somehow diminished, despite being the most powerful mage in the kingdom.