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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #2077067
The adventures of Analia and Elise continue in a far off land.
THE LONE TRAVELER CHRONICLES
Book Two –Lady Dragon Riders

Chapter Eight

Analia told the Master of the Hunt to distribute portions of the heart and liver to the hounds who bravely assisted in the kill and the remainder was to be butchered for feasting. The beautiful stag head with the rack of eighteen tines was sent to the taxidermist. They were uncertain if the King would want such a reminder of how close he came to death, but it would be a shame to waste such a magnificent trophy. Marquis Cornwall provided them with an escort back to the castle and the two young squires impolitely stared at them during the whole trip, for they had witnessed the daring rescue of the King and Analia knew that before they supped that evening, the entire castle would be buzzing with the amazing exploit.

As they passed through the castle gates and made their way to the main keep, hundreds of curious eyes followed them. They were both drenched with dried blood and no one knew whether or not the blood was theirs. They had given thought to dunking themselves in a small stream half way back to the castle to wash off some of the stains, however, with the young squires escorting them they decided it might be a little too forward.

Cleos was half in shock when he first saw them, but upon learning that the blood was not theirs, he calmed down enough to take them to their chambers where he gratefully turned them over to a stern but concerned Brigett who ordered the chamber maids to prepare a bath post haste. Like the others, Kinzy was initially beside herself, but she quickly calmed down and followed them to the baths.

After Analia informed her of the exciting and sensational events of the hunt, she asked Kenzy if anything had changed or transpired while they were gone. “More carriages arrived,” Kenzy replied. “The chambermaids said they came all the way from a place called Gaul. The man was a comté or something like that, a few referred to him as, The Earl. They were all excited about the dresses the women wore and their silly looking hats, the height of fashion they called it. Many complained about the excessive amount of work it took to find and prepare appropriate lodgings for the visiting nobility while two of our maids were drafted to assist in the kitchens. They were very unhappy about that.”

“There’s to be a grand feast tonight,” Analia stated. “The Marquis told us about it when we broke our fast this morning. King Athelfyrd returns to Londinium tomorrow to hold court with a representative of the King of Gaul three days hence, something about a treaty that has been in the making for a long time.”

“I suppose you have to attend the feast?” Elise asked.

“You and I both,” Analia replied with a smile. “Since I am without a male escort, my Lady-in-waiting must attend me, that’s why you have all those pretty new gowns, sister.”

“That’s why I made several changes to those stupid gowns,” Elise smiled. “I now have plenty of room to safely hide my daggers.”

They knew it was going to be a long and exhausting evening so after they bathed and donned clean clothing they retired to the inner chamber to grab a few hours of nap time. Despite her exhaustion, Analia’s cluttered thoughts were filled with questions and suppositions which prevented her from dozing off.

King Athelfyrd was a difficult man to read, one moment he was fawning over her as if he wanted nothing else but to bed her, the next he was regal and projecting a strong sense of justice and strength. Marquis Cornwall appeared to be a congenial man with a very personable bearing; however, hidden beneath his veneer of amiability she sensed a dark and conflicting side.

She also had concerns and worries about her personal relationship with Geoffrey and Elise’s obvious infatuation over him. Although she had no amorous feelings for the handsome cavalier, she did not want Elise to be hurt by being spurned by him. Then, of course, there was DarDar. How would she be able to protect the gentle giant and what would she eventually do with him? Kenzy was another simmering problem. The Picti girl was clearly reborn from the old world, but she knew nothing about her powers or how to use them. She was also from a peasant family, one which was still being held in captivity by a seemingly corrupt and very dangerous church, and Analia did not know enough about the politics of the region to see where Kenzy would eventually fit in. Was Kenzy from hidden royalty, as her own situation had turned out to be, or was she destined to fulfill some other, yet unknown future or prophesy?”

They were awakened by a commotion in the outer room. Brigitt opened the door and quickly closed it behind her. “The Arch-Bishop is here to see you, Lady Audrey,” she stated her hands shaking and she was squirming as if a demon had suddenly possessed her.

“How do I address the man, Brigett?” Analia casually asked, since she was uncertain of all the unusual new titles.

“His title is, Arch-Bishop, and he is commonly addressed as, Your Holiness or Holy Father. He is Seaton John IV the Pontiff and rules over the entire Church. You should go down on your knee and kiss his ring. It is very unusual for him to come to the private chambers of visiting royalty.”

The Arch-Bishop was sitting in one of the plush chairs as they entered the room. He was a short and very plump man with a balding head and the bushiest eyebrows Analia had ever seen, they were so large they almost met in the center of his huge nose. His small mouth was turned down in a scowl but his little piggy eyes were bright and piercing. Analia quietly sucked in a deep breath as she recognized the tall man standing slightly behind him; it was the same medical man who sought to aid the King, the same man or priest who had witnessed the incident in the stables.

She glanced at Elise then slowly walked over and went down on one knee. She pecked the beautiful ring on the middle finger of his right hand as he raised it. “You honor me with your presence, Your Holiness,” she stated in a calm voice. She noticed he smelled of stale wine and some spicy substance that had an unpleasant odor similar to cloves. Analia slowly stood and backed away, uncertain if it was proper to sit in his presence so she stood a few feet in front of him.

“You are indeed a lovely thing, child,” the Arch-Bishop stated, his eyes lustfully roaming up and down her slim body. “I am told you are an Imperial Princess from Angalund, a land and empire the Church is very familiar with.

Why does everyone else pretend ignorance of Angalund when their Church and its highest leader knows so much about us? Analia thought. “Yes, Your Holiness, I come from Angalund and I am the daughter of Emperor John III. You know of our realm and our customs?”

The Arch-bishop looked annoyed that she would deign to ask a simple question. “Suffice to say we have considerable knowledge of your arcane customs and barbaric religions. The Church does not condone such corrupt knowledge being disseminated among our loyal and devout followers.”

Quite a slap in the face, Analia thought. Obviously the Church keeps such knowledge under wraps so they can better control their followers.

“May I politely ask why you have deemed it worthwhile to pay a visit to a young member of a barbaric royal family?”

The Arch-Bishop rewarded her with a withering stare especially since she had left off his honorific. “Don’t get derisive with me, child,” he whispered in a grating voice. I know all about the witchcraft and sorcery that abounds in your land and in all the realms surrounding yours. I am here to warn you to steer clear of King Athelfyrd and not to fill his dense head with tales of your heathen ways. He is quite a gullible man and easily swayed by the skirts of a pretty girl.”

“I have no intentions of influencing the King in any manner,” Analia returned. “I just met him this morning and joined his hunt out of courtesy.”

“And used sorcery to slay the deer he sought,” the Arch-Bishop growled glancing behind him at the tall priest.

“I assure you there was no sorcery involved, my sister and I simply used martial skills learned through school and battle.”

“So, you admit the other girl is your sister, and also admit that you are warriors and not the helpless and simple ambassadors you would have us take you for?”

Analia was becoming flustered and angry, something she could not afford. This man was very powerful, more powerful than the King if her information was correct. “If you know our customs surely you are aware that women are allowed to fight alongside men if properly trained. Elise is my sister in arms and we do not practice sorcery.”

“I suppose that little incident in the stables was not sorcery?” the Arch-Bishop smiled.

“I haven’t the slightest idea as to what you are referring,” Analia calmly replied. “The spy standing behind you obviously imagined something or saw something we did not note.”

The Arch-Bishop stood to leave glancing at her with his cruel little eyes. “There will be no accolades from the royalty on your behalf for saving the King,” he said in a frosty voice. “As far as everyone is concerned, especially the King, what you did was done through forbidden and evil sorcery. I know enough about you and your kingdom to condemn you ten times over for witchcraft and send you to the stake to be burned and purified. I order you to make arrangements to leave this kingdom on the morrow or I will post an edict to that effect. Do you clearly understand me, little Imperial Princess?”

“Very clear, Your Holiness,” Analia replied. “It was not our wish to attend the feast and we appreciate your candor and warning.”

“You will most certainly attend the feast,” the Arch-Bishop sharply replied. “King Athelfyrd expects it. Your absence will only generate unwanted questions. I advise you to watch your tongue and speak only when spoken to, which also applies to your sister witch.” He quickly left the chambers leaving behind a chilled atmosphere of fear and despondency.

“We could call Whiff and Cali and leave this place at any time,” Elise stated in an angry tone. “That man is just about as evil as they come. He controls this realm through religion and fear, even the nobility are afraid of him.”

Analia shook her head. “We have DarDar and Kenzy to think about and I will not be frightened away by some fat all-powerful religious fanatic. If we depart on dragon back, I am certain they will burn Geoffrey for conspiring with sorcerers and he does not deserve such a fate and Kenzy will burn right beside him. We will leave this land but under our own timetable. We must tread softly at the feast least we trigger an incident that will offer him an opportunity to fulfill his evil threat.”

By the time they reached the magnificent ballroom, most of the guests had seated themselves. They were met at the open doors by a Gentleman Usher who escorted them to seats at the second high table. Their seats faced the massive chamber and their backs were to the high table directly behind them. Ordinarily, due to her noble status, Analia would be seated at the high table; however, due to her alleged barbarian status their lower position satisfied her. She would have been even more pleased to be seated among the lesser lords and ladies scattered around the great hall.

The great room was large enough to comfortably seat over five hundred guests. There were huge tapestries covering most of the granite walls and thousands of heraldic items on display. Men-at-arms were aligned along two walls holding their halberds out at an angle, and an army of servants were scurrying about placing pitchers of wine or ale on the tables. Great circular sconces hung from chains anchored in the ceiling and more were lit in stone basins between the tables and the guards. The noise from the assembled guests was a loud cacophony of yelling laughing, and boasting.

The lords and ladies at their table were sumptuously dressed and already well into their mugs. They eyed Analia and Elise with abject curiosity but displayed no sign of hostility or even recognition. A dapifer provide them with small silver drinking mugs and filled them with a light red wine. He snapped his fingers and a servant rushed to him and placed a basket of bread and cheese before them. They were dressed in beautiful gowns which were nowhere near as elaborate as the ones worn by the other ladies at their table.

For almost an hour they sat at the table casually observing the other guests, prudently sipping from their wine cups and nibbling on the bread and cheese. No one deigned to strike up a conversation and they were satisfied to smile and whisper to each other. Finally, loud trumpets blared and the Master of Ceremonies announced the arrival of the King and his entourage.

King Athelfyrd and Queen Anne slowly made their way down the wide center aisle. They were spectacularly dressed as befitting royalty and none of the other nobles followed them until they took their seats at the high table. As the King passed their table, he winked at Analia but did not stop. A long procession of richly dressed nobility followed with short intervals between them. The Arch-Bishop wore a glimmering white robe with a long white cape, both studded with brilliant crystal gem stones. He carried what appeared to be a pure gold staff also inlayed with precious gems. He glared at Analia as he passed and almost tripped on his cassock as he stepped up to the high table.

By the time most of the high table was filled, a spectacular figure in powder blue escorted a gorgeous Lady down the center aisle. “The Comté de Bloise,” a noble sitting near them whispered to his Lady. “He’s here to represent the King of Gaul.”

“Who is that striking Lady with him?” his wife asked. “A barbarian queen,” the noble replied.

The regal woman on the arm of the Comté had long plush hair which cascaded down her back like a flowing river of gold. Her eyes were large, like a doe, and blue as a bright summer sky. She wore a magnificent light blue dress and a jeweled tiara in her hair. She was a beautiful woman by any standards, but Analia knew her to be conniving, self-centered, and guilty of murder and deceit. She was none other than, Denize Champigny, former Viturian noble, former Queen of Camalund, and mother to King Robert of Camalund, recently exiled to Vituria and a bitter enemy of Analia’s.

Elise sucked in her breath as she recognized the ex-queen. “How did that evil creature get here?” she exclaimed.

“Friar Huck mentioned that the Gauls were very similar to the Viturians,” Analia answered, “Possibly even related or perhaps a lost colony. Obviously, Denize made her way to Gaul and quickly seduced her way into the royal court. They must have been among that group who arrived today while we were out hunting with the King.”

As Denize and the Comté passed their table, the exiled queen initially glared at the two girls then painted a bright smile on her lovely face, her demeanor insinuating that she knew something they did not, something that delighted her with smug self-satisfaction. Analia hoped the evening would pass quickly so they could escape the clutches of this evil woman, this grand master of deception and pretense.

Analia was relieved that their backs were to the high table, this way she did not have to witness the icy glares of the Arch-Bishop and dubious smile of Denize. She also did not want to catch the eye of King Athelfyrd and perhaps trigger an unwanted situation. She made up her mind to leave the feast as soon as the tables were being cleared for dancing and entertainment, quickly escaping while the servants were rushing about the room.

An hour later, when the time was drawing near to begin the entertainment, a sudden quiet spread around the great hall. Analia turned around in her seat and immediately spotted the King standing with his golden chalice. It looked as if he was about to address the assembled lords and ladies. She noticed him glance towards the Arch-Bishop several times, then in her direction, then back at the fat scowling cleric. She felt a growing fear that he was about to ignite a frenzy he would be unable to quench.

“There are two among us this night who should be sitting by my side at the high table,” he stated in a loud voice so all could hear. “Were it not for their bravery and skill, your King would not be alive for this great feast. These two warriors from a far off land saved me from certain death and, despite advice to the contrary, they deserve to be recognized.” He motioned for Analia and Elise to stand.

I knew it was too good to last, Analia thought. Ten more minutes and we would have been safely out the door.

“Lady Audrey and Lady Elise, I raise my cup to you,” King Athelfyrd stated, drinking heavily from his jeweled chalice. The tight confines of the seating prevented them from curtsying, so they both bowed low to the King. The King turned and waved to the Master of Ceremonies. “Bring two seats for our Lady heroes,” he demanded.

The flustered Arch-Bishop could no longer hold his temper. “I will not share this table with two witches!” he screamed, standing up and pointing down at them. “I forbid their evil presence at this table; and they should be removed from this holy assembly entirely.”

“By what right do you name them witches?” King Athelfyrd yelled back. “I saw no sorcery used when they saved my life.” The lords and ladies in the room were shocked by this open display of incivility between the two most powerful figures in the kingdom.

“By the right and blessing of the Lord iesos!” He screamed. The Arch-Bishop continued to point his fat finger at them. “Do you deny that you entered this kingdom flying on the backs of dragons!” he screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. “Do you deny that you aided a condemned witch to escape from the dungeons in Lincolnshire using those same dragons? We have witnesses to prove my words. Do you deny spying on behalf of the Emperor of Angalund as a pre-invasion mission? Do you also deny that you took over the Kingdom of Camalund through sorcery and forced its rightful ruler, Queen Denize, into exile? Can you possibly deny that you are members of the group called, The Dragon Riders, and you use your evil sorcery to guide the beasts and conquer other lands?” Most of all, witch, can you deny the fact that you brought the witch standing next to you back from the dead through the use of evil sorcery? All this and more I can verify through witnesses.”

Analia was shocked by the amount of information and disinformation the evil cleric knew. Although she could deny half of what he stated, it would do no good for the other half of it was true. She noted a smug smile of satisfaction on the face of Queen Denize. King Athelfyrd stood with his mouth agape.

“Part of what you say is true,” she replied. “We entered this kingdom on the backs of flying dragons, however, we did not come to conquer, we came to explore on a personal adventure. We do not seek to overthrow your rulers but to undertake mutual trade and peace. We do not practice your religion but respect those who do.”

“Your mouth betrays you, witch. Take her to her chambers and guard her well,” The Arch-bishop ordered the guards standing near the wall.

King Athelfyrd was still in a state of mild shock as they were quickly and forcefully removed from the great hall.



 
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The adventures of Analia and Elise continue in a far off land.
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