The Coming Of Shadows (The Shadow Tide Book 1) Page 3

  “Aiden, listen!”

  “How dare you? You mean to raise your voice to me? You left us; you left Father; you left the woman who has pined for you for seven years, and you left me. Go back to your precious Derancross. Take your empty pity with you.”

  He could tell Aiden was mad. “Aiden please listen to me.”

  “No. I will not listen to someone who holds a king that unfairly takes the money we need for his own game.” He said looking back at Dominic. “You know what I speak of, brother. Don't pretend you don't,” he added as he turned and walked away. He waved Dominic off.

  “Dammit Aiden listen to me!” Dominic shouted across the hall at his little brother.

  Aiden stopped in his tracks. When he turned Dominic could see the absolute look of anger across his face. “You don’t talk to me like that.” He said walking back toward Dominic.

  “You might be the Duke of Denoi but you are my brother, and I will talk to you as I please. So shut up and listen!” Dominic shouted.

  “Damn you! “

  “Shut up! I left for me, that doesn’t change the fact that you are my brother and this is my family. Aiden you have a duty and I have a duty, just because I wear the colors of the King doesn’t make me any less part of this house. I left for me, I didn’t want this life! I wanted you to have it.”

  “Me to have it? Why, so you could make good with your King and one-day swoop in and take it back. I never thought someone like you would turn your back on us.” Aiden was in his face now and shouting.

  Dominic reached his sleeve up and wiped the spit from his face. “Aiden, you know as well as I, taxes go up, politics change, but life goes on. You should know that by now.” He told Aiden as he slightly pushed him aside.

  “Damn you, I should have known, you’re nothing but a pawn now.”

  “A pawn?”

  “The King’s pawn, just to let you know, father talked about you every day. He loved you more than me, and eventually he couldn’t take your being gone any longer-- you killed him!”

  Dominic felt a rush of anger build in him, “Go to hell, asshole,” You don’t know anything Aiden.

  “Same to you, brother!”

  He heard Aiden’s last words as he was walking away back to his room for the night. All of his fears had been fulfilled. The anger that Aiden had felt then was still there, and now it was out. The guards in the hall watched him as he exited through the Northeast door and headed back upstairs. He would visit the tombs tomorrow and then ride back to his true family, his Crimson Brothers.

  IV

  Liam's illness eats away at his mind, Idris thought as he watched his King sit upon his throne in the castle of Derancross. The king had contracted a disease that was killing his mind. Most days his court was conducted by Idris himself and the King's son, The Crown Prince of Agantia and The Duke of Derancross, Jayden.

  The great hall was unique, the only one of its kind in the kingdom. It was circular and adorned with marble and granite, from the two great oak doors to the King's throne. Twelve columns supported the domed ceiling. The throne was located above the main floor six steps high and on each side were the seats and chairs of the King's advisers and the court of the five Earls of the city.

  In front of the throne on the main floor, benches had been brought in for the people to sit during the court’s proceedings. This time over a hundred had come. In recent weeks crime had been high through the Commons District of the city and the people were growing tired.

  “We cannot go home at night. Our day’s work that yields only two coppers is taken from us by thugs in the night,” one man yelled across the room.

  “And our children can no longer play in the streets!” a woman had yelled. Even though the King had heard many of the complaints and a lot of the anger was focused toward him, it was his son Jayden who had to help make the city safe again.

  Jayden was young, only twenty-one years and still green. His attitude toward the lesser folk was not as compassionate as his father’s. “I will do all I can that’s in my power, he said, standing beside his father. “I can only spare so many in the Crimson Army to patrol the Commons.”

  It was not the answer the people wanted. “Send us a garrison of mounted soldiers. What we need is cavalry armed not with pikes and swords but with gunpowder. You have hundreds that patrol the outer lands of the city and many more who patrol the walls around the Palace. Send some of them!” one man shouted as the crowd erupted into conversation.

  Jayden was losing control of the crowd. The look from the King was of a lost person. His mind’s failing him, Idris thought again, come on, dear friend, come together.

  “Silence,” Jayden shouted over the commotion the hall. “The next person who speaks out of turn will be taken from this hall,” he said, gesturing his head toward the soldiers standing around the room. “Now, as you may know the Easterway Estate will be complete within the month. Then the family who is granted the Earl ship of that District will have control of the Commons. His banner men will do as the Banner Men of the other Estates do,” he said, “They will bring justice to the district in the King's name.”

  For the first time since the morning court began, the crowd was silent. Jayden had brought control to the court. “Is there anything further on the matter of the Commons?” he asked. There was silence.

  The court moved on but Idris had lost his concentration. Liam was in pain, not physical but mental. For almost a year now the strange illness had affected him in ways that most men would find magical.

  Some days he was the Liam that Idris had served as steward for the last six years, and others he was a man that Idris had never met. As the days passed, he became worse. Just yesterday he’d had a conversation with Liam, who had thought he was his dead wife, Eila. She had been gone since Jayden's birth; he was only three days old when she died from a fever.

  The court proceeded. There were merchants asking for a break from the tax increase, traders looking to woo the king with fine items, farmers offering their sons for Crimson Army and the Crimson Guard service in exchange for gold and silver.

  When the court ended, Idris took his place beside the King as he strode from the Hall and back to the King's study. “Idris, how long have you served?” King Liam asked as he sat in his padded chair behind his table.

  “Six years, your Majesty.”

  “No, served this kingdom?” The King asked.

  Idris was unsure the reason for the question but he answered to best of his knowledge. “Since my birth,” he said as he grabbed a tankard of ale sitting on the King's table.

  He poured the King his glass before pouring his own. As always he waited for Liam to take the first drink before he even dared take one himself. Liam took a drink, “Yes, you have been my friend; yes, you have.” Liam said. “Tell me, does my son have the compassion for the throne?”

  “He does, my King. He needs to learn his path toward the throne.”

  Liam drank more. Idris could see him sadden through the mask he wore. His pain is unbearable. He knows his mind will fail him in time, he thought as he took a drink of his own ale.

  Liam's disease was eating him away and through all the books in the libraries, he could not find anything to solve the problem. The only thing that could bring his friend’s mind back to him was magic, but magic was gone.

  “Drink with me more, Your Majesty, and let us speak of the past times,” he said, lifting his glass.

  “I do not want to speak of the past. My mind is with me today, and I choose to discuss my last standing orders,” he said. “As by law Jayden will ascend after the twelve hours of mourning to take the throne. After that by law he must honor my last standing orders.”

  Idris knew that Liam must do this before his mind was gone and lost forever. Without hesitation he grabbed the King’s quill and parchment from in front of him, “If it please your Majesty, I will prepare them; your name in your hand will bring them to law.” Idris said.

  He began to write;

&n
bsp; By the order of His Majesty Liam the First of the House Tiernan

  Orders in the event of my death

  It was something he had not wanted to do. To prepare himself for the impending death and to watch a friend so dear to him, knowing that his days were numbered, pained him. As he listened to the King speak his orders, he prayed that his mind would surface enough to finish the day’s work.

  He knew if they failed today, the King's last orders would not be drafted, and Jayden's rule would start empty without the guidance of a wise King. An hour passed and the document was nearing completion. “I am tired. I cannot muster any more strength to continue.” Liam said as he stood from his chair. “Wax and the quill,” he said holding his hand out.

  He took the feather quill from Idris' hand and dipped it in the cup of ink on his table. He signed his name and rolled the parchment into a tube. The wax he used to seal the orders was a special shade of red used only by the King himself.

  He held the wax to the flame of the nearby candle, and when it began to drip, he took and sealed the edges of the parchment quickly, using a brass punch to imprint the royal seal into the wax.

  It was past midday now and Idris was feeling his stomach cramping. “Your Majesty must eat,” he said as they made way their way to the door.

  “Not today, not now I want to rest.”

  Idris helped him to his bed chambers. Inside the two chamber servants waited for the King with a plate of fruit and fresh cold water. Within minutes the King was out of his court robes and into his more comfortable day clothes. He lay down on his bed and took a bite of fresh strawberries and a drink of water.

  Friend, please wake this afternoon, Idris thought. Liam needed rest now, the morning had been long. Leaving the room he did not go back toward his chambers. He needed to find Jayden now and tell him. This day was going to be the longest he had ever had.

  V

  The day was almost over. Jayden sat in his chamber eating the fried bread and lamb that was prepared by the kitchen. He was growing more and more frustrated with the people of the Commons. They live in feces and eat food that only dogs would eat, he thought as he chewed the tender brown and pink meat of the lamb.

  They ask for soldiers; they ask for silver; they ask for better homes. He was growing angry. The new earl of Easterway will have his hands full trying to gain support from the savages, he thought, chewing his food before grabbing his cup of wine and slamming it back to the table. “MORE!” He yelled to his servant.

  This one is no better than they are, he thought as the servant poured his cup full. He could feel the wine taking effect on him, “Tell me,” he said, looking at his servant, “why do you choose to live in the infestation of slime in the Commons when one could live outside the old city walls on the plains?”

  The servant looked at him. “I'm afraid, your Highness, that I do not understand,” he said, hanging his head so as not to make eye contact with the Prince.

  “How could you not understand? Would you rather live in the sewers or on the plains?” Jayden asked again. This man is only good for serving those who are better than he, he thought as he continued to eat. “It's not important.”

  He finished his food. His servant took the soiled plate and cup away as he was commanded. He sat watching out the window into the Commons. He could see people carrying goods, selling trash items, buying stale bread and dumping buckets of something he didn't want to imagine. The Commons had grown in the last few years outside of the city walls which now were more like interior walls. Around Derancross factories, homes, shops, inns and brothels had gone up. It was a new age for Agantia and the cities of old were being outgrown and the people had no place to go but farther out.

  He looked at the city walls of the new estate, built to the east of the wall. By this time in a half month that wall will have a hole in it and those people will complain to a new Earl, he thought as he heard a knock at his door.

  His servant, as always, went to the door and opened it slightly for the visitor to identify himself before entering. “Your Highness, his Mastership Idris, your father's steward,” the servant said.

  “I know who he is. Enough. Leave us,” Jayden commanded as Idris came into the room. “My father's steward, what brings you to my tower this time of day?” Jayden asked he gestured for him to sit.

  “I have to speak to you of your father,” Idris said as he took the seat that was offered to him.

  Does he take me for a fool? Jayden thought. “I know my father is sick. I know that after his death, I will take the throne twelve hours after his final breath,” he said taking his own seat and looking at Idris.

  His father's sickness was sorcery. There was no other explanation for something that would take away the mind of a healthy man. The gods were playing an evil game. The pain that his father had to be in was terrible.

  “Your father prepared his final orders this morning. He feels that it is time that his affairs are put in order. A dying man knows when the end is near, and your father's time is close,” Idris told him.

  “Did my father prepare them or did you, with my father's name in his hand and the royal seal?” Jayden asked. He was always suspicious of this man. For someone so young, maybe into his forty-fifth year, his knowledge was too broad. Most men his age were just learning what it meant to advise; they would advise a lowly Earl or Baron but not a King.

  “I performed the latter,” Idris said. “But your father's wishes were penned true. I know you feel certain things toward me, your Highness, but now isn’t the time to talk of that. If you choose, I will advise you. I have done my best with your father and only he will be able to tell the truth of my work.”

  He looks to manipulate me, Jayden thought. “We will see. My father chose you for reasons that are still being discussed among the city's five Earls.

  Idris' face turned red. Jayden could tell that he was concerned about the five talking about him behind the closed doors of Jayden's court.

  “Does that concern you?” Jayden asked as he leaned in toward Idris, “the fact that I feel your motives are less than pure toward our city, our Kingdom?”.

  “Your father will be dead before the moon is full. He could be dead before the next open Court. Are you prepared to take your father's seat?” Idris asked.

  Jayden felt that he could be sincere, but his timing was suspicious. “I must be ready. By law the oldest son must ascend or renounce the throne to the first sibling or cousin,” he said, standing. “That means what? I concede to my older sister, Dilys? She is married to Duke Jacob. He would become King, and the throne would go to House Ramsden. Father's ghost would murder me in my slumber.”

  “Dilys was married to Jacob the Second of House Ramsden in the event the throne must be conceded to her. Your father felt that next to you Duke Ramsden was the best to rule in the event of your death and his without another heir,” Idris said

  He spoke truth, but a truth Jayden had refused to believe for many years. Jacob Ramsden was one of the most loyal Dukes in the kingdom. His family was the richest and controlled most of the King's interests south of Derancross from their home of Erinbur.

  “I do not wish to speak of this any longer. When father dies, I will honor the laws of this land. Twelve hours of mourning, and then I will take the throne. His orders will be honored under the pretense that they are in the best interest of the people. As king, knowing my father’s death was caused by a sorcerer, it leaves the burden on me to justify his last orders. Even you, Master Idris, cannot argue that fact. Now, please leave me.”

  Idris obliged. He had said nothing. Most days he would have said something in response, but today he didn't. Maybe the man was tired of fighting, knowing that his days were numbered in this castle. Jayden went back to his window and once again looked toward the Commons.

  VI

  Aiden came to Dominic later that night. His mood had changed since they last spoke in the great Hall. He apologized for his actions and words and Dominic accepted.

 
He knew that Aiden's emotions had to have been running wild within him, and he didn't want to cause those emotions to overflow again. “Please stay, brother, just a few days,” Aiden asked Dominic after his apology “There will be a dinner feast tomorrow night, to honor our father.”

  Dominic accepted. He spent most of that day watching the young soldiers and seasoned veterans spar on the yard. The sword and pike work that both displayed was the same that he had learned so many years ago on the same yard.

  While he watched, several of the green boys asked him to spar, but he politely declined the offer, choosing to observe. The northern army had always been strong and those who had trained under Jacob Southerlin were by far the best swordsmen in the kingdom.

  Jacob Southerlin was one of the best if not the best swordsman and pike man in the country. Even though the musket and cannon were favored on the battlefield, he felt that a strong hand-to- hand military favored those of the gun. “Eventually, we will have no powder to fire our muskets, or our enemy will charge with steel, and then what?” he had once taught Dominic.

  Not only did he train them on foot, but he taught them the art of horseback combat. Using swords and pikes from a mounted position along with accuracy with short guns and pistols. Together with the strength of the northern horses and the knowledge of the Southerlin-trained men, a small cavalry of just a few hundred could outfight an army of thousands.

  More and more of those who saw him watching asked him to spar with them. He was growing tired of the constant hounding of the young greenhorns. “Maybe on the morrow; today I rest from a long journey,” he told one of them.

  “Maybe he is afraid that his old ways have been lost to lesser ways of the South,” Allan Southerlin said from across the yard. “Find our lost son some practice armor and a blade,” he said, smiling.

  Dominic couldn't say no. He had not wanted to spar with anyone this day but the chance to once again show Allan how it was done was more than he could resist. The green boys brought him some old practice breast plate from the armory and a blunt edged sword.