King

© 2012 by S.Green. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 05/30/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4685-7948-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4685-7947-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4685-7949-9 (e)

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Contents

INTRODUCTION

THE KINGS RETURN

1

ROYAL SATISFACTION

2

THE KINGS DISTRACTION

3

ALLEGIANCE

4

TO BUSINESS

5

BETRAYALS

6

NEGOTIATIONS

7

THE CURTANA SWORD

8

THE TRUTH WILL OUT

9

REVENGING REVENANT

10

PLEDGE & WORRY

11

A RELUCTANT QUEEN

12

CARNAL DESIRES

13

PERSONAL BATTLES

14

TO WAR!

15

TREACHEROUS SPY

16

CONSPIRATORS

17

FAMILY TREES

18

SEED OF DOUBT

19

I AM THE KING!

20

MAKE HER HEART

GROW FONDER

21

THE COST OF LOYALTY

22

DARK CLOUDS RULE

THE DAY

23

TILTING DISHONOURABLY

24

DELIBERATE SABOTAGE

25

TORMENT & PAIN

26

LITTLE MISDEMEANOURS

27

INNOCENT IN THE CONSPIRACY

28

TERRIBLE MISTAKES

29

FAMILY

30

THE THREE PROMISES

31

COURTIAN EXPECTS

32

ERRORS & REGRETS

33

DECEPTIONS

34

DEMONSTRATION OF LOVE

35

TREASON

36

EXECUTION

37

THE TRIAL

1:~ RIPPLES OF DISQUIET

38

AWAKENED CONSCIOUSNESS OF SIN

39

DIFFICULT DECISIONS

40

NO MERCY

41

I CAN FIX THAT

Dedication

For my husband and two daughters, without their support for over a year of intensive writing of this novel, it would not

have been possible to complete.

Epigraph

Veni, Vidi, Vici.

I came, I saw, I conquered.

*Julius Caesar.

INTRODUCTION

THE KINGS RETURN

It has long been said in our history, that kings must produce an heir to their throne. When his battles have all been fought, his journey ended and his bones have turned to ash in the ground, the heir he leaves behind will tell their story and his name will live on forever. No heir left, led to bloody and brutal battles being fought in a struggle to gain control over a kingdom.

History will always be about our past; present and future, because until we learn where we are from, we will never know who we truly are and be able to set in stone plans for our future. Kings must take control over their future, for it is not theirs alone to own, but the people in their kingdoms they leave behind. Like a game of chess, the king must stay one step ahead in the contest to keep his powerful reign.

*     *     *

‘Keep him warm and make sure he has plenty of water.’

‘I will, you have been so kind . . .’

The noise of beating drums and sound of crowds cheering broke the conversations thread.

‘What’s all that noise about?’ Lavanya asked.

‘Hmmm don’t know M’lady.’

Lavanya looked back onto the small boy of about nine that she had been treating for over a week; he’d had sickness and high fever. The child looked much stronger now in comparison to how he had first looked. Smiling, she slid her slender fingers through his head of thick brown hair and tussled it.

‘Stay strong my little soldier.’ Softly she said as she stood up from his makeshift bed built on sticks and straw, ‘I’ll call in again soon to see how your doing.’

The boy weakly took her hand and whispered meekly, ‘You are an angel M’lady, you are . . .’

The boy’s mother was already standing at the doorway to politely see Lavanya out, but also to see what all the fuss was about with the growing crowds cheering and running down the sandy path that led through the town, seemingly to get a better view at whatever it was that was now causing so much excitement.

Lavanya studied the construction of what was called home for this woman and her child. The bed was situated one side of the hut; its wooden crossed legs under it were dug into the sand for extra support. The windows, all two of them had no glass in them and let no light into the darkened space. Square boards sat below each one, which she guessed were used at night to keep out the cold or rain. A small fire sat central to the room on the bare sandy floor, a pot of hot water was warming over the flames that engulfed the base of the deep black iron cauldron. The one and only room in the hut was used well and functionally. Lavanya admired the woman’s independence and strength, which were on show via handmade blankets, tools and furniture. The same strong determination that had probably built the hut, judging by the mothers calloused hands, she thought. But then she had to admire anyone in Krosahvera who lived in a hut like this, as the capital seemed to be full of these one room domed huts, filled with those who sought wealth in the capital.

Lavanya moved into the light of the doorway where the mother stood craning her neck for a better view of what approached. Lavanya squeezed past into the daylight, her long auburn hair cascading down her back, glistened in the sunshine.

‘Thank you again m’lady . . .’

Before Lavanya could answer she was interrupted again by the beating of drums and the cheering crowds of people, who were racing even faster to the front of the procession.

‘It’s the King M’lady . . . look, back from the war he is, coo in’t he ‘ansome eh?’

Lavanya turned to see what all the commotion was about. She herself had only been in Kroshavera for six months and had heard many rumours about the king, who had been away fighting the Truscans for nigh on seven months. Endearing rumours were banded about freely whilst treacherous ones, were whispered. She caught a glimpse of the drummers leading the body of persons with a slow melodic beat of a royal procession, all beating in unison that it seemed even the horses hooves pranced on the ground in time to the tempo. Her eyes followed up one of the horses muscular legs and her gaze momentarily caught that of the kings.

‘I have to go.-’ urgently she said, as she made to scurry off.

‘M’lady your shawl, your head m’lady . . .’

‘Thank you.’ Lavanya panicked and quickly pulled up her shawl over her head to hide her face. Her fathers words haunting her as she did, ‘Your beauty will be your curse my love, men will want you, be careful my dear sweet little Vanya.’

A lesson she had learned from very early on in her life and at great cost!

From the corner of her eye as she scuttled away, she saw the king wink at the man on the horse riding at the side of him, who immediately peeled off from the side of the king and his procession and into the direction of Lavanya.

Lavanya could feel her heart beating so fast she thought it might break. Her breathing became deep and laboured, she felt her bosom rise and fall rapidly. Quickly lifting her skirts from the ground, she ran as fast as her legs could carry her away from her pursuer. Her tattered shoes felt uncomfortable as she ran through the sandy paths to the back of the clustered domed huts. Recognising Mrs Markins hut she quickly ran in, she now worked hard to quieten her breathing. Carefully she looked out of the corner of the small narrow window. She could see both horse and rider searching, looking, the horse’s hooves pounding the ground as its rider pulled the reins one direction then another uncertain of which way to go.

‘Oh, it’s you Lavanya.’

Worried, she turned round to look into the darkness of the room, the distant drumming now fading and silence ensuing. Sitting up in the bed was Mrs Markins, who in her seventies lay with her husband. Both were contentedly smoking a shared long thin clay pipe, Mr Markins long straggly beard and curly moustache were stained yellow from years of nicotine. Both looked happy together but also a little guilt ridden as if they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t. Lavanya had been helping Mrs Markins to look after her husband when he became ill with the same sickness the young boy had, had. She had warned the old man not to smoke as much, but Lavanya knew this was not why he was now looking so droopy eyed and guilty.

‘Ssshhh, please I beg you,’ pleaded Lavanya, placing her finger to her lips.

‘Something wrong dear?’ enquired Mrs Markins, concerned for her.

The horses chestnut coloured head neared the window. Lavanya slipped back into the darkness and shadows of the hut. ‘Sssshhh, please, say nothing.’

‘Why? Are you in trouble dear?’

Lavanya was growing impatient for them to heed her words as she could almost smell the horses stinking breath through the window.

Pleading, she clasped her hands together in a begging motion and would have fell to her knees, if it would not have given her position away to this searching rider that was now hunting her down.

‘My Lady . . . my lady I wish only to talk . . . my lady . . .’ the riders voice was commanding as he called out to her.

Lavanya stole a risky look out of the narrow window. The majestic war horse looked incredibly powerful dipping its head up and down as the rider pulled up on its reins. Handsome with dark wavy short hair, deep brown eyes and tanned skin, the man was well groomed and muscular. The long brown velvet cape he wore swept off his shoulders and draped over the back of his horses rear.

‘Sir Garin have you found her?’ A second man on horse back approached, he himself richly donned with the same attire.

‘No Sir Chronas I have not, she slipped away as if by magic.’

‘Then you had better be the one to tell the king, and he will not be best pleased.’

‘Indeed not . . . damn!’ Sir Garin cursed, lifting his bottom off the saddle to look high above the huts for one last hopeful appearance of her.

The second rider laughed, ‘Unlike you to let a young filly give you the slip.’

With a ‘Yaaah’, both riders charged off back towards the towns centre.

Lavanya leaned against the tiny wall of the hut and slid down it so that she was sitting on her ankles, she let out a huge sigh of relief knowing full well she had just had a very narrow escape.

Lavanya approached her new temporary home tucked away in the woods, out of town and away from prying eyes. All her homes had been temporary since she was a small girl of just twelve. She and her companion had been running now for many years. Longing to settle down and knew, as Maria was getting too old to keep running she too dreamt of permanent residency. Maria had been with Lavanya since she was just three years old when her mother had died. Maria had in effect become her, ‘earth mother’ and had never left her side, she was loyal; kind, respectful and above all, loving. Lavanya loved her deeply. Approaching closer, she saw the white walls of the small cottage, as the sun baked down on the black thatched roof which afforded her some free heat in the rooms below it, as its heated rays soaked through. The pretty white red rose covered gate and garden of flowers with scented herbs gave it a fairytale appearance. The trees surrounding it with their branches creaking and bowing in the cool breeze made this place magical to her and out of all her temporary homes, she had to admit, she liked this one the best. The man she was renting it from had to go away on family business abroad for a couple of years, the arrangement had suited them both fine although it was Maria who had negotiated the deal, informing him that they would probably only be there for about a year anyway before they would be moving on. Lavanya smiled as she approached the big aged wooden door.

The door creaked open and Lavanya called in, ‘It’s only me Maria! Benji where are you?’

Benji was a large rough curly grey haired wolfhound and he was the perfect security for Lavanya and Maria when trouble arrived. The bark of Benji alone frightened people, but his tall size also served as a deterrent for any uninvited guests.

Benji raced to greet Lavanya, his big clumsy paws slipping over the dark wooden polished floor. He bumped into Lavanya almost knocking her off her feet. ‘Ohhhh good boy’, she praised him enthusiastically. Gently she lowered her shawl from her face and head, her auburn hair cascading down her back, almost to the back of her knees. Her dark brown eyes looked around the room as she straightened herself up from Benji. ‘Maria!’ She called out. Benji sat at her heels and barked as if helping to call. Lavanya tickled his ears as he sat by her side. The oak beams stretched across the tiny low ceiling and the open fire had remnants of embers in from the previous night. The small wooden table wedged between two comfy armchairs sat in front of the fireplace. On the opposite side of the room sat a small area for cooking and cleaning. A little flight of wooden stairs led to a landing with two rooms leading off from it. One room for Lavanya and one for Maria. It was perfect for them. A lake near by served as a bathing pool and Lavanya used it every day, either very early as first light appeared or last light disappeared. The tree’s surrounding it offered a discreet cover and a way of hanging clothes and towels as she swam and bathed. She loved the freedom of it. She wondered now how much longer she dared risk staying there.

‘Oh it’s you Lavanya.’ Maria came through from the kitchen area, she was drying her hands on an apron which protected her long skirts.

‘Who else were you expecting?’ Lavanya smiled playfully as she asked, she knew full well that the two never had any visitors because they had always been so careful not to let anyone know where they resided.

‘Hmmm, well Benji has been causing a bit of a stir this morning, barking off and on, daft thing keeps chasing a mouse around. Keep trying to tell the daft clumsy thing it will never catch a creature that is both faster and in his case probably more intelligent!’

Maria, she was quite inseparable from Lavanya. She looked tired today her grey hair was windswept and straggly. She was a proud woman who held her shoulders back with pride but more so when she was in the company of Lavanya. In her late fifties to early sixties, with a lived in face that had given her deep set wrinkles which already made her look older than she was. Her build was stocky but her self made baggy clothes made her look bigger than she actually was. Maria was a kind and gentle soul who had made tremendous sacrifices for Lavanya. When called for though she could be quite stern with Lavanya even though she was now a fully grown woman of twenty-five years.

‘ . . . Anya,’ as she would sometimes call her when she felt the need to be firm, ‘you’ve got that look in your eye, what’s happened?’

‘We need to leave.’ Lavanya knew Maria would not appreciate these words and awaited her challenge.

‘Why’, she sounded exasperated in her tone, ‘what is it . . . oh god he’s not here is he?’

‘No, no he’s not here, but we both know he will soon find us again, but no not this time it’s not him, it’s . . .’ trailing off hesitantly, unsure how to tell her what had just happened in the town but proceeded anyway, ‘ . . . the king has returned today and I had just seen to he boy I’ve been caring for when . . .’

‘When . . . when what?’ Maria was trying to urge her on but Lavanya continued to falter and take her time.

‘When the king saw me . . .’ her voice faded off, she was about to continue when Maria interrupted.

‘The king . . . oh don’t worry Anya, not like he’s about to knock on the door is it?’

‘Let me finish . . . he saw me . . . I . . . oh Maria, I had my shawl down he saw me and sent one of his men on horseback after me . . . I ran . . . I panicked . . . so don’t you see, we have to leave.’ Lavanya looked and sounded despaired.

‘Oh . . . I . . . I do see.’ The full picture now unfolded in Maria’s mind; of course she understood Lavanya’s concerns now. They had been in this situation before, just not with a king before!

‘Now listen to me Anya . . . I take it this . . . man didn’t find you?’

‘No, but he came very close.’

‘Well, maybe because he didn’t find you, he might not bother now, I mean he doesn’t know where you live and it’s not like a king couldn’t find some other woman. Look,’ she settled back to reassure then continued, ‘you don’t want to leave yet anyway, there’s too many here still depending upon your help and I know you my girl you haven’t the heart to just walk out on them. Maybe just lay low for a few days ‘til the dust settles so to speak . . . eh? What d’ya say?’

‘Maybe your right,’ Lavanya didn’t sound too convinced but she knew Maria was right, she had too many children here who she was tending who had all caught the sickness bug. If she left now she knew some of them would die and she simply couldn’t have that on her conscience. She’d never lost a child yet and she wasn’t about to start denting that record now, not for a situation she may have misread.

‘I s’pose your right, I’ll give it a couple of weeks but I’ll need you to take out the medicines and wood.’

‘Not a problem, now that’s my girl, fighting talk, fighting spirit, just like your father.’

‘I miss him Maria, . . . my father . . . I wish . . .’ her heart felt heavy, ‘I wish he was still alive.’

‘We both miss him, but I know he would be extremely proud of you, Anya, extremely proud.’

‘Well? Did you find her?’

‘Alas your Majesty, no I did not, she . . . slipped away.’

‘You mean you lost her?’ The king wasn’t really looking for an answer to his question but making more a statement as he often did when he spoke. Sir Aston Garin stood in the king’s office with its fine majestic cloths draped from ceiling to floor. The large long oak table positioned centrally to the room, had hosted many foreign ambassadors and dignitaries and the oversized fireplace with it’s large stone surround showed visitors this king was important. Indeed he was undefeated in his renowned title of being the most powerful of kings. Never had he lost a battle in his reign, nor been unable to get what he wanted. The windows with their small leaded panels, flooded in light that beamed down over the head of the table where the kings chair presided and washed the table with a warm brightness. The king stood to the side of the table with his hand leaning on one of the high backed wooded chairs, the wood decoratively turned and carved, most befitting of this regal room. It had always been one of the king’s favourite rooms and he could often be found in there even when not holding office.

‘Did you see her Aston? Is she not the most beautiful woman you have ever seen?’

‘Yes your majesty, she was.’ Aston was always fairly confident in the kings company from when they had been friends since they were both young children aged five. Aston was deemed suitable company by the king’s predecessors and so a firm friendship had developed and neither of them wanted to lose the other. However Aston knew not to cross him despite their comradeship or else feel his wrath.

‘What do you mean . . . was?’ Again the king expressed more a statement than requiring an answer.

‘I merely meant, your majesty, that it is unlikely now that we will ever find her that . . . she was beautiful.’

‘I want her found.’ The king raised his finger pointing at Aston commanding his attention to his needs.

‘Yes, your Majesty.’

‘Did you think to talk to the woman from the hut where we saw her?’ he asked.

‘I did, your Majesty.’

‘Well.’ The king was growing impatient.

‘The woman said her name is Lavanya and if she knew where she lived she wasn’t going to tell me, actually, your majesty, she said, we would be hard pressed to find anyone who would give anymore than her name away.’

‘Why?’ The king moved in closer to Aston clearly now intrigued as to his statement.

‘Apparently, she is well loved by the people of Krosahvera, she tends the sick and they call her the . . .’ Faltering he searched his recollection for the term used.

‘Well . . .’ King Rapheaus Nolitus moved up to Aston so close he could feel the king’s breath on his skin. ‘They call her the what?’

‘Angel, your Majesty.’

‘Angel.’ He looked thoughtful for a moment, then leaned in with his face at the side of Astons. ‘I want her. Find her . . . now.’

Aston bowed his head in recognition to the kings status, ‘Majesty’, and turned to leave the room, the two guards either side of the large imposing heavy wooden doors swiftly opened them as Aston approached. Swooping through, his cape flailing behind him, the guards closed the heavy doors behind him and came back to smart attention avoiding any eye contact with their king.

‘Lavanya, Lavanya, Lavanya.’ The king openly chanted, his mind wondered back to the procession through the town, of how he had seen her and asked Aston, ‘can you see her?’, he’d then given him the wink to go and get her so that he could receive her at the castle. Surely, he asked himself, a king is worthy of such a beautiful woman, or else, no man is!

King Rapheaus Nolitus was indeed a handsome man, which made him popular with all the ladies whether they were married or not. Locks of blonde straight hair and striking blue eyes melted most of the hearts of the female population. When he entered the Great Hall to his throne where all the lords, ladies and gentlemen awaited him, it was the women who bustled and shoved to the front, not especially to see the king but to flaunt themselves at him in a bid to be his next conquest. Not something the king approved of but nonetheless he would not disappoint them in their efforts either and often obliged, ‘well it seems rude not to’, he would jest. It was often taught to him that as a king, it was rather expected of him anyway. Battles did not scar his good looks and his muscular physique gained him much respect. He always dressed very regally and his favourite colours were black and silver or else red and gold. White frilled shirts, which in his relaxed state would wear unbuttoned so far down his chest that it showed off his well cut and trimmed body, also filled his wardrobe. Courtian was his land and he loved every blade of grass, every dusty road and every rock on it. He had many residences up and down the land of Courtian but Krosahvera was it’s capital and where he spent much of his time dedicated too. He felt that to be in the centre of all he would therefore know all. Newly returned from several months fighting the Truscans about land his father had passed on to him, land across water that had taken his men and ships three weeks to get to, a land rich in gold and silver, the Truscans felt that King Nolitus and all of Courtian had certainly had a long enough reign over them and felt it was time the king handed back their land to them. King Nolitus did not agree and showed his power and strength in his army of men and navy of ships. The Truscans had put up an admiring fight but King Nolitus was too powerful. A well known great strategist and battle hardy warrior, the king did not know the meaning of ‘yield’, nor would he, for he was known for it from land to land, king to king and so, nations yielded to him and he had long since lost count of the men he had taken the life of with his sword. Loyalty was always richly awarded by him, treason was dealt with swiftly and effectively. He had ordered the death of one of his soldiers whilst in Trusca for being overheard saying he felt the king was a wretch and had long lost faith in the winning of the battle against their enemy, the Truscans. Feeling the mans loyalty lay therefore with the Truscans with his attempts at propaganda, he had him beaten to within an inch of his life and his body dragged, at the back of a horse, over to the Truscans. The soldiers did not know the punishment the Truscans dished out to one of their enemy and so, freely delivered to them too, but not to be outdone by Rapheaus, the Truscans made sure the mans screams could be heard for three hours. The Truscans were however doing Rapheaus a favour, by putting fear into any more of his men who dared to attempt the same. Rapheaus knew that without loyalty from his men he could not be a king. A learned man, Rapheaus gained his knowledge from studying books on history and current matters, which kept him ahead of most other learned men, but that was because he himself would read books first before allowing them to be printed for public study. That way he ensured his people would only be reading what he deemed fit and they were not able to view anything that may oppose his ideals or even discredit him. Some books had occasionally been printed by underground printers, those whose views did not tally with that of his own. One book had condemned the king’s marriages and was insulting to his ability to produce a male heir. He had dealt with this swiftly. Raising taxes was always an unpopular move by any king but one he said he would abolish quickly if the people would simply hand over the author of such propaganda. Within two days the author and his underground printing operation were swooped on having been betrayed by their own families, they were unable to watch their own children suffer any more through lack of funds to feed them and they certainly did not want to be stoned in the streets as traitors. The king knew how to keep rule over his land and its people, they were uneducated and only lords, ladies and gentlemen were privileged enough to afford the luxury of tuition. Few could read and write. Rapheaus though was a popular king, he had bought wealth and security to the land and his rugged good looks certainly aided his position and charm.

Rapheaus hadn’t been able to sleep for days, his thoughts were constantly on Lavanya. Every day for nearly two weeks he had asked his men, who were still searching for her, if they had found her or discovered anything new as to the whereabouts of her. Yet it seemed the people had all closed ranks and were protecting her. This intrigued him even more so and his desire for her grew stronger. He was aware that even the mere mention of her name sent his pulse racing. She had captured his every thought and he was finding it hard to concentrate on matters of state. The order and nailing of posters on trees and buildings asking for information on her did not bring forth any morsel of knowledge about her. Even offering a huge life changing reward still reaped no response forward. At times he had grown angry at his men demanding to know why their efforts had not found her yet.

A new book had recently been presented to him for his approval but he couldn’t get past the first page without his thoughts drifting back to Lavanya. His men took it in turns to inform the king of their fruitless search, and each in turn felt the king’s wrath and displeasure at the news. After two weeks they felt the chances now of finding her would be minimal and she had most likely left Krosahvera. Told she travelled and did not stay put in one place for more than twelve months, they were unsure if that was to throw them off her scent or that she had actually gone. However anything they did learn about her, which was usually nothing, they reported it to the king. They wondered when the king might call off the search but he seemed more adamant and determined as each day passed. His obsession in her increased his desires and so he widened the search further out.

Rapheaus sat in his office the lamps lit and the fire crackling and spitting with its logs piled high, engulfed in flames burning. Pensively he sat in his chair at the head of the long table. The warm air from the fire gently lifted the corners of the long draped regal cloths that adorned the walls, making them appear to breathe. Drinking wine from a silver and rowan goblet, his favourite mazer, he yet again tried to read the first page of the book he’d been presented with, his white shirt unbuttoned down his chest, his blond hair ungroomed as he held his head in his hand, his finger tips gripping strands and tugging at it as if it would help him to focus, but again his thoughts turned to Lavanya. His frustration soared and he threw the book across the table and onto the floor. At the same moment Aston Garin walked in.

‘Your Majesty.’

The king raised his head and looked at Aston, his eyes widened in more frustration at his rude interruption.

‘Well?’

‘Your Majesty I wondered if you’d care to join me for a hunt tomorrow?’ His closest men had tried every distraction there was to try to divert the kings thoughts away from Lavanya but none had worked. Aston knew the king enjoyed all forms of hunting whether with hawks or arrows but he particularly liked the hunt for female company.

The king was considering Astons proposal when the great wooden doors flung open to the office and in walked Bernadette’s governess, Lady Melaina. Bernadette was the king’s eleven year old daughter from a previous wife, Tatyana Corine. She was just two years old when her mothers life had been taken and so thank fully had no knowledge as to her mother’s demise, at the hands of the king.

‘Now what?’ The king’s temper seemed to be at boiling point.

‘Your Majesty, please forgive me but . . . your majesty Lady Bernadette is very sick now and despite our best efforts and those of your physicians she shows no signs of improvement and her condition deteriorates. I beg and beseech your majesty please help, please come and see her,’ her voice and tone was desperate.

Before he could answer her, Aston broke into the discussion.

‘Your majesty if I might suggest something?’ He couldn’t believe his own flash of hopeful genius that had sprung into his mind so instantly.

The king merely waved his hand impatiently, for Aston to continue.

‘Lavanya . . . she tends the sick and to all accounts her heart is with healing children, she can’t bear to see a child suffer. Maybe, if we send word out that Lady Bernadette is very ill she may herself . . . come forward.’

Rapheaus beamed a smile at Aston, who now looked pleased with himself and his new found brilliance.

‘Come, we shall ride out together at once. If I as king ride out in search for her and spread the word myself that Bernadette is ill, it might hasten things.’

‘Yes your majesty, I’ll summon the Marshall, Bains to fetch the horses into the tiltyard.’

‘Aston, your talents have impressed me,’ he flung his arm in friendly gesture across Astons shoulder, ‘you have hidden depths my friend, now . . . let us hurry!’ With that he firmly nudged Aston towards the door as if giving him a helping shove at the start of a race.

The king’s men had been riding out over Krosahvera for a while, sending word out of Bernadette’s unfortunate condition. Still no-one came forward. Aston rode close by to the king as he always did but on this cold night, he would occasionally ride up to one of the men to see if any bought good news. It was growing dark. Aston rode up to the king who was standing still on his horse. The large imposing abbey in the background was illuminated by burning oil lamps. The white walls and tall pillars to its entrance had shadows cast onto it by the flickering lamps in the gentle spring breeze. The cool night air wound its way round every hut. Silence. No one was about and all had settled in for the night, the occasional hoot of a distant owl or cry of a small baby from within one of the domed structures broke the quiet atmosphere of the night.

‘Nothing your majesty, perhaps we should ourselves retire and try again tomorrow?’ Aston suggested hopefully, as he was growing cold and could barely feel his toes in his boots they were almost stinging. ‘Besides I’m bloody freezing.’ He longed for a hot drink of cider.

The king took one last look down from where Aston had just ridden up from. The domed huts either side of the central town path were quiet, glimmers of light escaped tiny gaps where windows were erected. All had closed down for the night. He was about to break the horse into a gallop when his eye was distracted towards the abbey’s great entrance. A cloaked woman was entering. The great doors to the abbey were open, she stepped into the light, her back turned to the outside, he watched as she gently took off the shawl that she had wrapped round her head. It was Lavanya.

1

ROYAL SATISFACTION

King Rapheaus tapped the arm of Aston with the back of his hand, which firmly knocked Aston’s arm, he gestured his outstretched hand towards the abbey.

‘Look, it’s her, my god, it’s her . . .’ Rapheaus couldn’t believe it, but knew for definite, it was her.

Aston gazed over to the abbey, he recognised the long auburn hair that fell all the way to the bottom of her back and more. It shone in the flickering lamp light as she slowly and gracefully entered the abbey.

‘Are you sure?’ Aston knew the answer was ‘yes’ but couldn’t after two weeks of searching believe himself, that she was now here.

Rapheaus tapped Astons arm eagerly again in the same gesture as before. ‘Come on.’ Both men pulled the reins of their horses towards the abbey. Slowly and quietly they approached the great doors.

Lavanya sat in quiet contemplation at the front of the altar. She didn’t really pray as such because she wasn’t totally convinced that there was a supreme being watching over and guiding her. Lavanya firmly believed that if there were a god like figure why hadn’t he shown himself. Imprisoning of children or adults who spoke to imaginary friends seemed insane to her, when men of great standing and of the cloth, talked to an imaginary friend called god every day and no one challenged them or locked them away. However she did respect people’s beliefs regardless of their differences. The new religion, ‘Aservernix’ had taken over the old religion ‘Salix’ and churches over night just seemed to embrace the new god. A new religion came about from the king and his team of advisors, it had left the land somewhat divided. No riots or fighting broke out because the religion of Salix was a peaceful one that did not believe in violence, so Asivernis just took over. But, Lavanya loved these big old buildings for their architecture and means of a place of calm and peacefulness. Regardless of religion, for which she had none, she would be seen to respect their ways and she would follow courtesy when entering and leaving the sacred buildings. She often visited the churches or abbeys of her temporary home towns or villages, sometimes as means of escaping cold winter winds or rain storms. Tonight though she had made a purposeful journey to the abbey. A mother caught by the sickness bug with her young baby, cried because she was unable to make the journey across town to pray at the abbey. Lavanya had tried to convince her that it made no difference where she prayed, as ‘he’ should hear her desperate calls for help from anywhere. The mother instead begged Lavanya to go to the abbey and pray for her and her child. Reluctantly Lavanya agreed. A new concept for her, to actually pray and she felt a little awkward about what to do, how to start and end a prayer, she just didn’t know. However she asked for his love and healing to wash down over them, and just for good measure she added that her unprofessional prayer, be it heard, be applied to all that were suffering this dreaded sickness.

Her thoughts though were suddenly stopped by the sound of heavy footfalls from the back of the abbey. She dared not turn to look but she could tell these were the steps of at least two men as she had heard the clanking of swords against metal objects about their persons, most likely armour. Only men of great importance carried swords, common men were not allowed. It was a good method of keeping law, order and peace. The footsteps ceased. She was quite sure these men had entered together but they had not decided to sit together. Very slowly she moved her head to one side to see if she could steal a look but her hair blocked her vision as it fell around her cheeks and so was unable to see. Knowing the light outside was now fading fast and the fact that she had not intended to stay long anyway, she decided she would make the usual courtesies and leave. She stood up and moved out into the aisle. Dropping to her knees at the altar, she looked at the large gold emblem of this new religion. Asivernis had a gold circle and through the centre a silver bar. It was supposed to represent the earth and gods arm embracing and protecting his world. It surprised Lavanya that the abbey would leave this on display but then, it was behind bars, like a prison and Lavanya wondered what that might represent. Coupled with the fact that anyone ever caught stealing from the churches or abbeys, so long as proof was provided, the man of cloth could have them immediately punished which included prison and the death penalty. Nice, thought Lavanya, where’s the charity there. Still on her knees she bowed her head as was the format, stood up and took three paces backwards. No doubt that had been the kings input, as you had to take three steps backwards from royalty with head bowed when leaving a room where he presided. Before she turned she replaced the shawl back over her head gathering in her long hair at the back and over her face, so only her eyes were visible. She could do this to perfection as she had, had so much practice at it. Comfortable that she had done it right, she turned slowly to look up the abbeys central aisle to the exit. She froze. A few rows in from the back and sitting next to the aisle, was the king. Sir Aston Garin, who she recognised as the rider who had chased her across the town, was seated at the back on the opposite side, almost hidden by one of the abbeys tall inner pillars.

She took a few gingerly steps forwards, up towards the doors. It was a long way from the front to the back. She stopped again. The king watched her every move. Looking right then left to see if there was an alternative way out, but the abbey offered none, she had no choice, she had to go forwards past the king. Lavanya made her steps more purposeful, trying to look confident but inside she was shaking like a frightened mouse cornered by a large greedy cat. Drawing closer to the king who kept his gaze upon her, Lavanya dared not make eye contact, she wondered if she should curtsy as she passed him or just bow her head or . . . too late.

Without warning and with Lavanya a mere foot away from him he stood up and blocked her path.

Lavanya quickly dropped to a very low and deep curtsy.

Her voice trembled in soft tone, ‘Your majesty.’

The king said nothing and for a few moments awkward silence fell between them. Lavanya remained in a deep and low curtsy, as she knew you didn’t rise until the king acknowledged or passed you. Her head was level with his knees almost, and she was aware embarrassed and flushed by the thought that if she raised her head, then she would be looking at his hips. Gently he offered his hand to her for her to raise up. She hesitated a moment unsure if it would be appropriate for her to take the hand of a king. He moved closer still towards her, urging her to take his hand. Lavanya looked on the strong tanned hand of the king. A large deep red ruby stoned gold ring sat on his little finger. Nervously and trembling she slipped her hand into the kings, who steadied her gracefully to her feet. Rapheaus stood and gazed into Lavanya’s eyes. She immediately looked down, not wanting to overstep her mark, by engaging in eye contact with him.

‘My Lady Lavanya,’ the king warmly greeted her.

Lavanya couldn’t believe the king knew her name. Every part of her trembled now, she couldn’t believe she was stood in the presence of a king and he knew her name. Not just any king though, as she knew, he was the most powerful king of all lands, richest and indeed, he had to be the most handsome, she thought, as she stood before him.

‘Don’t be afraid,’ he continued, ‘I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to talk to you.’ Afraid thought Lavanya, she was terrified! ‘Your trembling, please, I wish only to talk to you,’ he tried to reassure her.

‘Majesty?’ She tried to make it sound like she was questioning the fact that he wanted to, ‘talk’, to her but the tone of her voice remained too shaky.

‘I saw you a couple of weeks ago at the procession through town, remember?’

‘Yes your majesty,’ she answered unable to still look up, her tone stayed soft and low.

The king moved his hands up to either side of her shawl, he desperately wanted to look upon her beauty again.

Lavanya flinched away. ‘No, please your majesty,’ she pleaded, she used the same recited excuse for wearing the shawl as she had always done, ‘please your majesty, I’m terribly scarred and burned, my face is disfigured and covered in puss erupting boils, I beg your majesty please don’t, for I make men sick at the very ugly sight of me and this terrible affliction I carry.’ That should do it she thought.

‘Lavanya, I saw you at the procession, now please, I swear as your king and your loyal servant, I’m not going to hurt you, please.’ His tone, as usual, was not asking but more making a statement. Lavanya stood still as the king again reached his hands to the top of her head, for her shawl to remove it. Lavanya felt her whole body shaking, she was unsure if it was because the king was effectively de-robing her or if it was his comment of, ‘your loyal servant’, surely thought Lavanya, kings don’t normally say that to their subjects.

Rapheaus dropped the shawl off her head and onto her shoulders. Backing away two steps he stood looking on her beauty. Her eyes slowly lifted up and looked into his.

‘My god,’ he said in awe, ‘you are beautiful.’ He stepped back up to her. ‘Lavanya, you must know I’ve been looking for you.’

‘Not really, well sort of, I mean . . . I’m not sure your majesty.’

‘Lavanya, why did you run?’

‘I was afraid your majesty.’

‘There is no need for you to be afraid of me, I could not harm anything as beautiful as you, and my god Lavanya you are, stunningly beautiful.’

Lavanya didn’t know what to say or where to look. Here was the king, handsome and rugged, complimenting her in the highest of forms.

‘Lavanya, I must ask, are you married?’

Lavanya stood and stared into the kings eyes, shocked at the frankness of the question. Married she thought, now there’s one she hadn’t considered before. No man, including the king would dare to covet another mans wife, however she had heard rumours about this king and his ways with the ladies. Aware she was now taking too long to answer she blurted out rather more loudly than she had anticipated, ‘Yes!’

‘Oh . . . I see,’ the disappointment in his tone to her response was clear, then he asked, ‘and where is your husband?’

‘He’s . . . erm . . .’ Again she was aware of the lengthy pause of her response to the kings question. ‘Erm . . . he’s bedridden, your majesty.’

‘That is a shame. What’s his name?’ Her eyes were fixed on the kings and he too kept her gaze. She felt lost in his striking blue eyes. ‘His name?’ The king repeated.

‘Who?’ Lavanya asked dreamily.

‘Your husbands?’ Smiling at her, the king was aware she was not paying full attention to his questions and he was amused by her answers.

‘Who? Oh, oh yes . . . my husband . . . erm his name . . . his name . . .’ She looked quickly about for inspiration of a mans name, for as hard as she tried momentarily, none would present themselves to her mind, she was still too wrapped up in a dream like state at the kings rugged good looks, to think straight or rationally. She looked upon the wooden pews, where the men of the church sat when full congregation was in service. Men sat one side and the women and children sat the other. The women made tapestry cushions for their husbands with their names embroidered on them, it amused Lavanya as she often wondered if it were more a thing of lavish place names or else the husbands might lose their places. Her eyes were drawn to a cushion made using extravagant amounts of blue in the design, the name carefully threaded into it was, ‘Jack, your majesty.’

‘Why are you out here, on your own, at this late hour, where do you live?’ Altering his questions quickly.

‘Out of town your majesty,’ then added, ‘quite a way out of town.’

‘And your husband let’s you out this late on your own . . . forgive me it’s just a woman of your outstanding beauty should not be out this late unescorted, what did you say his name was?’

‘Who?’ Lavanya was losing thread of all the kings’ conversation again, as she could feel herself diving into the pools of his deep blue eyes.

‘Your husband?’

‘Who’s husband? Oh . . . erm . . . yes my husband! Jock . . . he doesn’t mind he knows I’m safe your majesty.’

Rapheaus realised she had named her husband both Jack and Jock! ‘Lavanya, permit me to escort you to your house, it would be my honour and duty as your king to see you safely returned home.’

‘Oh, no your majesty, please don’t trouble yourself.’

‘It would be no trouble at all, my lady.’

‘Please your majesty. It would be hardly worth your efforts as it’s not far, just round the corner, I can be there in a few minutes.’

‘Your husband must be worried about you and I should like to meet the man, forgive me again, what did you say his name was again?’ He tried to disguise his amusement, at her expense, of her replies as he taunted her.

‘Josh . . . u . . . a . . .’ She wasn’t convincing herself now and realised she had totally forgotten her fictitious husbands name! She started to panic. ‘Please your majesty I must go now.’ She tried to walk passed the king but he stretched his arm out blocking her way past him.

‘Lavanya,’ the king started, he moved her back gently by the arm to the front of him, ‘you wear no wedding band to signify your married, your husband, or not, has just changed his name three times and you seem highly confused as to where about you live, no wonder my men had trouble tracking you down.’ He glanced back at Aston and smiled. ‘One moment you live way out of town and the next you declare you live just around the corner.’ Quickly he decided to tease her. ‘Don’t you know it’s against the law to lie to your king?’

Lavanya froze, his comments definitely bought her back to reality with a bump. Was she now in trouble with the king, oh god she thought, he’s going to punish me for lying to him!

Thankfully, he didn’t want an answer as he broke the cold silence again that had come between them.

‘My . . . daughter . . . the Lady Bernadette is very ill, she has the sickness bug, I was told you have a gift for healing children, she is a delicate eleven years old now. Will you help her?’

Lavanya suddenly felt very silly, the king had been looking for her so she could help his daughter, nothing more.

‘Your majesty, why did you not say?’ She breathed a sigh of relief. ‘But surely you have all the best physicians attending the princess?’

Rapheaus didn’t like to correct her on both of her mistakes, for one, he had not been searching for her because Bernadette was sick and nor was she a princess, not in his opinion, but all that could wait. He realised he now had her attention, properly.

‘Her governess said she was deteriorating, despite the physicians best efforts, please I would appreciate your help in the matter, will you come to the castle and at least take a look at her?’

‘I’m not sure I can do any more than your physicians, your majesty but . . . yes I will take a look and help if I can.’

‘Good, now . . . where did you put your horse?’

‘Horse? I don’t have a horse your majesty, I don’t ride either and I can’t afford to keep a horse, so we walk everywhere.’

Rapheaus noted her word, ‘we’.

‘We? My Lady, are you betrothed?’

Lavanya did for a second consider saying yes, but was contented now that the king had been searching for her because of his sick daughter decided against the idea.

‘No, your majesty, I’m not betrothed, I meant my companion, my ‘earth mother’, as I call her, Maria, ‘we’ can’t afford horses and ‘we’ walk everywhere. It keeps us fit and healthy your majesty.’ Daintily she smiled.

The king let a cheeky grin cross his face as he looked her up and down. ‘Indeed it does my lady, indeed it does.’ Noting how her body looked very sculpted and slender. He was, as he knew he would be, mesmerised by her utter beauty. Everything about her looked perfect, except for her bedraggled clothing and shawl which looked moth eaten and worn.

‘Then you will ride with me on my horse,’ he ordered her.

‘It’s alright your majesty, I can walk to the castle, besides, I will probably need to fetch my bag, maybe I could tend the princess in the morning?’

‘No. Bag? What bag?’ he questioned.

‘I have a bag with all my specially prepared herbal remedies, your majesty, I shall most likely need it if I’m to help the princess.’

‘Then I shall take you home to retrieve this, ‘bag’ and then we will go to the castle, it must be tonight as I fear for her health.’

‘Very well, your majesty.’

They started up the abbeys aisle to the exit, Aston stood up.

‘Your majesty’, Aston bowed to the king who acknowledged him, and then he turned to Lavanya. ‘My lady.’

‘Aston,’ the king moved Lavanya forward gently by the arm, ‘this is Lavanya.’ Presenting her like some prized trophy whilst grinning.

‘My lady, forgive me if I frightened you when I rode after you.’ He bowed again to her.

‘Forgive me Sir Garin.’

‘You know my name, your lady?’ Aston looked puzzled.

‘I overheard you talking to a man named, Chronit . . . Chronsha . . . Chronic . . .’ Lavanya struggled to remember the other mans name and looked at the king and Aston for support. They looked on her with amused smiles but Aston was also flattered she had remembered his name.

‘Chronas, my lady, his name is Chronas.’ Aston corrected her.

‘Lavanya, you seem to have an unfair advantage on us.’ The king intervened.

‘Your majesty?’ Lavanya asked.

‘Well you know my name and Sir Garin’s here, even some of Chronas’ name but we do not know your name, in full, that is to say.’

‘Lavanya Naada, your majesty, my name is Lavanya Naada.’

Rapheaus echoed. ‘Lavanya Naada, Naada,’ he sighed as if pleased with himself, ‘Well Lavanya Naada, shall we?’

Lavanya momentarily forgot herself again, her eyes swimming again in the pools of the kings deep blue eyes and gaze.

‘Shall we what . . .’

‘Shall we go get your bag?’

‘Oh, yes, of course.’ Embarrassed she replied.

The three left the abbey and walked out into the cold night air. A cool breeze swept across Lavanya’s face, she grabbed for her shawl.

‘No!’ The king quickly grabbed her hands away from her shawl. ‘Please do not hide your beauty.’

‘I’m cold your majesty, the cool wind stings my cheeks.’

‘I swear, you will not be cold once we are on my horse. I will keep you warm.’

Lavanya didn’t question how he would keep her warm. She walked with the king and Aston down the white stone steps to where two horses stood. As Lavanya grew closer she saw the chestnut coloured horse that Sir Garin had been riding the day he chased her. Next to that stood a black horse, it’s smooth coat shone in the moonlight, clearly the kings horse judging by the rich cloth draped over it’s back with the royal crest richly stitched onto it, but also noticeably the kings, because it looked much better cared for and groomed than the chestnut, whose breath odour, Lavanya noted had not improved much from her last meeting with it.

The king, as Lavanya suspected mounted magnificently his black destrier horse. Lavanya looked up at the king, his blond hair loosened slightly by the prevailing wind, which gave him a tussled hunky look. Leaning over, he held down his arm, ‘Come, grab my arm I’ll lift you up.’

He looked incredibly strong, and Lavanya had no fears that he would drop her or be unable to lift her in all her skirts, but she did question whether the horse would be okay.

‘Your horse your majesty, will he manage two?’

‘He can manage three,’ the king cheekily informed the naive Lavanya, reflecting on past conquests, ‘now give me your arm my lady.’

She gripped the top of his arm, his muscle was taught and bulging, Lavanya couldn’t help but let out a small gasp, unable to put her hand all the way around his arm. Swiftly he heaved her up effortlessly and she moved herself to some comfort on the remaining of the saddle left up at the front.

Slowly the king pulled her back into his chest, his arm slipped around her tiny waist, his thumb stroked her bodice. He held firm onto the reins in the other hand and set off at a gentle pace.

Lavanya could feel the king’s breath by her right ear as he looked over her shoulder for a view of the track ahead. The horse bowed its head down, Lavanya thought she as going to fall too far forward and be catapulted off the front of it. The king reacted to her sudden fear and pulled her even tighter in to his chest. Feeling his strong arm around her waist, his breath blowing in her ear, excited her.

‘Which way?’ he asked, whispering quietly in her ear.

‘Follow the road out of town and to the lake within the woods, there’s a small track that lays to the west of it and if you continue on through the woods there’s a small cottage hidden off.’

‘I know the lake, as for the rest you will have to show me.’

‘Yes your majesty.’

The horse trotted on and soon they were leaving the towns confines. The horse’s mane blew majestically in the wind, gladly he didn’t have the same issue with his breath, as his companion and he held his head higher than Aston’s horse, as if to show he knew he was superior. Lavanya could feel the rhythm of the king’s hips pressing into her back as the dusty path became undulated. She could feel herself becoming more excited as the pair rode on. The king moved his lips closer into Lavanya’s ear. She smelled amazing. ‘You smell wonderful, are you wearing some kind of scent?’ he whispered. Every word gently blew into her ear, she had never had these feelings before and could not make sense of the tingling sensation that now seemed to run through her whole body irrepressibly. She felt as though this new emotion was numbing all her other senses and she might lose control.

‘Your majesty? I . . . er . . . I oh god!’ She had to gain control but her body was shaking in excitement.

‘Are you alright my lady?’ he whispered again in her ear, teasing her his tone sensual.

‘Yes, yes your majesty, I’m quite fine, I meant to say . . .’ She regained her composure but for how long she didn’t know. ‘I make my own scents from oils and flowers and such like.’ She rolled her eyes into the back of her head, not quite believing how she was feeling her emotions, as the tingling rose up and down through her entire body. Never had she had such an experience of this sensation before.

She could just make out a glimmer of light through the trees, she was nearly there, home.

‘There your majestree, the light over there.’

Rapheaus was clearly amused by her mistake, he had felt her body go a little limp around her waist and understood she had quite clearly enjoyed her ride, a limpness he had felt many a woman achieve after he had made love to them. He was impressed by himself at his seduction of Lavanya, the vast room at the back of his saddle made him slide back as they climbed