I gently picked up Rachel in my arms.  “Morag, please, get Tika.  We can’t leave them here.”

 

                “Or course, Castiel.”  Morag replied, gently picking up Tika.  “They need rest, and time to heal.”

 

                “Will they be alright, Morag?”

 

                “I have faith in you, Castiel.  You healed them as best you could.  The Twins have been with you so far, today.  Why would they abandon you now, when you have most need of them?”  Morag said gently.  “Rachel and Tika will be alright.  It might take time for them to heal, but I believe they will be well.”

 

                I sighed, and felt a bit better.  Morag’s conviction – and her belief in me, helped.  I don’t know why – but it made what she said seem more likely.  “You’re right, Morag.  I should trust in the Twins.  I know they’ll live – I’m just scared for them.”

 

                “I am too, Castiel.”  Morag whispered to me.  “But I am also sure they will be fine.  We came close to falling today – but we did not fall.  Now, you need to return to the castle and take control – I will aid you.  We need to seize control of the city, and calm the people – or else Callenden may suffer from riots and chaos.  We need to tell them the fighting is over – and that life will continue as normal.  We don’t know what lies Prince Michael told them of you while you were in Erevale – and now you have to present your story.”

 

                “I know.  I… I just never thought we’d get so hurt.” I said as we started walking back to the castle from the shoreline where we found Tika and Rachel.

 

                “Castiel.”  Morag began.  “We’re at war.  People get hurt.  Just be glad that those you love still live.”

 

                “I will.  You know, I’m kind of looking forward to seeing your dad’s face when I tell him how my plan worked.”

 

                Morag laughed, and smiled.  “Me too, Castiel.  I can’t wait to brag about your victory.”

 

                We laughed a bit together, and carried our charges – our friends – back to the castle to be tended by the healers.

 

 

*              *              *

 

                When we arrived, Alyssa was still unconscious, but looked better than she had before – and Sir Fionn was sitting on a boulder nearby, resting.  He looked like I felt – absolutely drained of everything I had.  Add to that the feeling of a dozen minor wounds that stung and ached, I felt like I was ready for a three day nap – but it wasn’t to be. 

 

                A messenger wearing the livery of Erevale stood waiting, nearby, and when he saw us, he approached, and fell to one knee before Princess Morag.  He looked like he was perhaps a few years shy adulthood, and he looked stricken, and nervous.

 

                “My lady, I bear dire news.  Assassins have struck behind the lines.  Your father, and your brothers are dead.  You are now the Queen of Erevale, my lady.  Forgive me.”

 

                Morag paled in shock.  “What?  How!?”

 

                “An assassin, disguised as one of the pages, gave the king and his brothers poisoned wine while they watched the battle – and then slew them with lightning and fire while they lay injured or tried to fight back.  He was slain in return, but one other heard that he was being compelled; Queen Hemlock had held his family hostage, and threatened to kill them if he didn’t make the attempt.”

 

                I quickly laid Rachel down next to Alyssa, and gently took Tika from Morag’s numb hands, laying her down too.  By the time I returned to her, she was openly weeping, leaning heavily on a wooden beam.  I came to her, and held her in my arms.  “Morag, I’m so sorry.  I’m so sorry.”

 

                “I was… I was going to brag about your victory… and… and they’re gone.  Not like this, Castiel.  I didn’t want a throne like this!”

 

                “It’s not your fault, Morag.” I said, stroking her long red hair, trying to calm her with nothing but my voice and my presence.  “It’s not your fault.  This is on Queen Hemlock.”

 

                “This cannot stand, Castiel.  She must die!”  Morag whispered, enraged.  “She must die, and have all that she cares about cast down.”

 

                I held my wife to be, and whispered back to her.  “And so she shall.  We will both see to it, together.  She won’t get away with this – but for now, we need to take care of the living.  We need to take control and see to the wounded, make sure the city is secure… That’s what you taught me, right?”

 

                Morag looked up at Castiel with a sniffle, and wiped some tears away.  “…Yes.  We need to make the people know you are now their king.”

 

                “And then, we’ll see to your father and brothers.  We’ll give them the best funeral Ghaelorn has ever seen, and then we’ll marshal our forces, and then we’ll hunt that bitch down to the ends of Mercia and ram a sword through her blackened heart.  I promise.”

 

                “You promise me this?”  Morag asked quietly.

 

                “I do.  And I’ll bring you her head on a silver platter if you so desire.” 

 

                “I do.”

 

                I nodded.  It was settled.  Once we had the city organized, and under control, we would begin mobilizing for war, against anyone who would harbor her from us.  She would undoubtedly return to clan Glairmorgan, so it was there we would begin.  If Queen Hemlock wanted a war, she definitely got one.

 

 

*              *              *

 

 

                Two days had passed since the battle; it was the morning of the 18^th of Summersend.  Rachel and Alyssa and Tika had awoken, late yesterday, and all of them were resting quietly while suffering from the Call of Hrask.  I shuddered to think how close they may have come to losing their sanity, or being killed.  Sir Fionn was taking charge of the city guards, and ensuring order – and Queen Morag and I were making the decisions that would influence not only Callenden, but Erevale, and Northame too.  The rubble was being cleaned from the courtyard – but it was slowed by the logistics of removing Prince Michaels massive dead body. 

               

                I snarled grimly, mostly to myself, remembering what we had to do.  In the end, he was almost too big to move even with a team of horses, so I ordered him to be chopped into manageable pieces, and then have the pieces taken to be burned, and the ashes buried in an unmarked grave.  I still felt sick to my stomach about giving that order… maybe I was weak?  Maybe I didn’t have what it took to be king?  Well, I told myself. Too fucking bad.  You’ve got the job, now Castiel, so you’d better do a good one.]

 

                “Is everything okay, Castiel?”  Queen Morag asked me, from across the dining table. 

 

We were in Callenden’s main hall, dining at a smaller table together.  Breakfast today was sausage, eggs, a piece of fried fish and some pickles.  The kitchens were still in disarray from the battle, and this was all they could manage.           

 

                “Yes… No… “ I sighed.  “Everything is as fine as it can be, considering.”  I replied.  “I grieve for your father, and your brothers – but I’m also worried about what happens next.  What happens about us – about your kingdom, and your brother’s kingdom of Northame.  He has no heirs.  I’m worried that Queen Hemlock has more hidden assassins – and to be honest, I feel like maybe I’m not as ready for a throne as I thought I might be.”

 

                “No one is ready.  If they say they are, then they lie.”  She sighed.  “Castiel, the last few days have been hard on us both – and with Rachel and the others still ill and feeling unwell, I can see you’re off balance.  I’m off balance!  We just fought a war – and now we are on the brink of another one – with not one but three kingdoms in disarray.”

 

                “I can barely handle one.”  I laughed ironically. 

 

                “Then let us make it one.  We continue the original plan – and you, Rachel and I get married – and we form Erevale, Northame and Callenden into one kingdom, ruled by the three of us.  One kingdom, with one king, and two queens.  We have people who can rule in our stead as our regents… You have Eacharn, and I have my nephew William.  We have all we need to turn this tragedy into a dynasty.”

 

                “A… A dynasty?” 

 

                “Aye, Castiel.  A dynasty, with the three of us controlling the entire western half of Ghaelorn – and possibly part of eastern Ghaelorn as well, if we march on clan Glairmorgan’s lands, and defeat Hemlock.  We could bring peace and stability to the entire country.”

 

                I thought about what Morag said…  If we marched on Queen Hemlocks clan, we could hardly slay her and leave a country full of enraged countrymen – it would just lead to more war.  We would have to conquer her lands, and add them to our own.  Fuck it, I thought.  She brought this on her people.  She brought this on herself.  “Are you suggesting we conquer all of Ghaelorn?  Because I do not wish to take people’s lands away from them who have not wronged us.”

 

                “Not at all, Castiel…  On the contrary – that would make you as bad as Michael in some ways.  No – what I propose is to do what we set out to do.  We consolidate here, where our strength is, and when we defeat Queen Hemlock, we seize her lands to quell rebellion.  I would bet you that many of the lesser clans would see the writing on the wall and sue for peace, preferring to be allies than foes.  If you prove skilled enough, they may even ask to become part of our kingdom for the added protection – with reassurances that their lands and titles will remain their own, of course.”

 

                “You mean, we could unite all of Ghaelorn and its feuding clans under my banner – with me as the High King?”

 

                “Exactly.”  Morag replied.  “Now you see.”

 

                I did see – and although I was worried about Morag’s desire to empire build, I was sure that each step of the way, what she proposed to do was right.  The only way to end Hemlock and ensure peace was to conquer – by might or diplomacy – the warring clans and unite Ghaelorn under a single banner.  My banner.  Dear gods!  I didn’t lust after power, or political might… I was just trying to do right by my grandfather… but the nature of medieval diplomacy made it imperative I did it the right way – and right now, Morag’s way seemed to be the only way this might work.  Twins help me!  I looked at Morag with new eyes… I always knew she was strong – but right now, when I looked at her, I saw strength that existed only in a special few individuals – like Katherine the Great, of Russia, or Queen Elizabeth I of England.  She was strong, like they were.  I only hoped I could be as strong as her.  If I could, I would be one of the greatest rulers of an age…  Morag was a woman who led, and hoped you were strong enough to keep up with her.  I would have to do my best.

 

                I sipped some wine, and gathered my thoughts.  “One two conditions.  We do not levy war on anyone who does us no harm – if they wish to remain independent, they may, and we do not intimidate them into joining us – friends made from fear are no true friends.  If we can convince them to join us for mutual benefit, then so be it – but if they wish to go it alone, that is their choice.  I right wrongs – and conquering innocents would only cause more suffering, not salve it.”

 

                “Very well, Castiel.  I can abide by those conditions – in fact, I agree with them heartily.  You are no villain – and you cannot risk becoming a villain in the eyes of the people.  To them you are their Vigilant King.  You must be better than they expect, and good-hearted – but strong, like a father taking care of his family.  I believe you can do this, Castiel.  I believe in you.”

 

                I felt a bit choked up at hearing her words… the conviction in her voice was strong, and just the fact that she believed in me so strongly, made me feel humble, and like I needed to do better in order to live up to her expectations.  I felt invigorated.  Maybe I could do this?  I thought.  Maybe together we can figure this out.

 

                “Thank you, Morag.  I appreciate the vote of confidence.  It means a lot to me.”

 

                “You are always welcome, Cass.”  She replied, kindly.  “Would you mind if I came with you to check on Rachel and the others after breakfast?”

 

                “Not at all.  I think that would be wonderful.”

 

                We smiled, and finished our breakfast.  For the first time in a few days, the pathway ahead seemed more clear, and less clouded by uncertainty.  The simple act of deciding what we were going to try to accomplish pushed doubt aside, and made the path ahead steadier.  I smiled.  “Thank you Morag.  You’ve helped me a lot.  You continue to help me.”

 

                “I made a promise to you and Rachel, Castiel.  I promised to teach you both to rule, and I meant it.  If my thoughts can give you clarity, then I am glad for it.  I am glad you asked for them.”

 

                “Always.”

 

                Morag smiled, and placed her hand on mine.  For a moment, we shared a closeness, and I squeezed her hand in return.  “Let’s go.  Our friends await – and even if they’re snappish and irritable, I think they’ll be glad to see us.”

 

                Morag nodded, and we rose, hand in hand, and left for the healers halls.

 

 

                “Hey, you.  Hi Princess.”  Rachel called out as we entered her room in the healing halls.  Alyssa and Tika were in beds off to one side; Alyssa was still dozing, and Tika waved a greeting at us weakly.

 

                “Hey, you too, hon.” I laughed.  “How are you doing?”

 

                “I’m doing okay, I think.”  Rachel replied.

 

                “I’m doing okay too.”  Tika chattered.  “I’ve never been so hurt in my life!  I’m glad I’m alive!”

 

                “As are we all, Tika.”  I replied.

 

                “Are you resting well?”  Morag began.  “I spoke with the healers yesterday and they said it would be wise to avoid magic for some time.”

 

                “Well enough, I suppose, Morag.  It’s actually taking a fair bit of concentration to not be snappish and mean, or worse, because of the Call of Hrask.  The healers think it’s not too severe, but the damage I did to myself by drawing too much power – I think they call it being ‘Kissed by the Void’ – means I’m going to be bedridden for a while, barring some magical healing.  The same with Alyssa, and Tika to a lesser extent.”

 

                “Well, then magical healing I can give.” I said, sitting on the edge of her bed. 

 

                Alyssa stirred, and woke.  “Good morning, your Majesties.”  She said, groaning.  “It is morning, is it not?”

 

                “Aye.” Morag replied with a grin.  “Though it is late in the morning.  Are you well?”

 

                “Well enough, Milady.”  Alyssa replied.  “My head aches like I slammed it into a wooden post, though.”

 

                “I understand.  I saw some of my father’s sorcerer suffer through it a few times.  It’s not easy.”  Morag sat gentle next to Alyssa and Tika.

 

                “Thank you for coming to visit us, like you have been.”  Tika offered.

 

                “Of course we would come and visit!”  Morag replied.  “We’re all a team – and we take care of each other.”

 

                Tika smiled, and lay her head back down in fatigue.  “Yeah.  We do.  I’m glad you’re part of the team, Morag.”

 

                “Me, too, little one.”  She said quietly, some emotion in her eyes as she gently rearranged Tika’s blankets to help her feel more comfortable. 

 

                “How are you holding up, Morag?”  Rachel asked.

 

                “As well as can be expected.  Very soon I will need to return to Erevale and hold state funerals for my father and brothers… and that will be very hard.  I’ll need to restore order there as we have done here, and I’ll need to place someone on the throne of Northame, as a regent if nothing else.  I… I’ll manage, I guess.  I have no choice.”

 

                “We’ll manage it together, Morag.”  I replied.  “There’s no way Rachel and I would let you go through this alone.  We’ll all be there if we can be – but Rachel and I definitely will be.”

 

                “But your place is here…” Morag began.

 

                “No, milady.  My place – and Rachel’s place – is at the side of our wife to be as she buries her father and brothers – and our father in-law and brothers in-law.”  I replied.  “We need to be there for you – and you need us to be there.  You do.  You lost nearly your whole family – and now it’s time to circle the wagons and take care of each other.  I’ll leave Sir Fionn in charge here while we’re gone.”

 

                “Are… are you sure?”  Morag asked, a few tears rolling down her cheeks.

 

                “Aye, right, Rachel?”

 

                “Aye.  We can’t let you suffer through this alone, Morag.”  Rachel replied, smiling gently.  “If we’re to be a family, let’s start it off by doing it right.  By taking care of each other.”

 

                Morag sniffed back another few tears, and nodded.  “Thank you, both.  It means a great deal to me… More than you know.  Thank you.”

 

                I came over and sat down next to Morag, and put my arm around her.  “Always.”  I gave her a light hug, and wiped a tear away – and surprisingly, she let me.  I was a bit surprised, because Morag didn’t usually let herself show weakness, and this little bit of vulnerability she was allowing herself was unusual.  I gave her a hug, and in a moment, I could feel her body wrack with sobs, as she cried, letting out her stress and grief for the first time in two days.

 

                When she was done, I released her.  “Better, now?”

 

                Morag smiled sadly, and nodded.  “Enough to do what needs doing.”

 

                “Then let me heal our friends, and we can get back to organizing the coronation.”

 

                “Coronation?”  Tika asked.

 

                “Well, I may be King Collin’s heir – but I have yet to be crowned king.  The High Priestess of the faith needs to call down the blessings of the gods, and then crown me king.  Until then, it’s not official.  I plan on doing the coronation before Rachel, Morag and I leave to bury her father and brothers in Erevale – and we’ll likely be there for a few weeks, while she attends to her coronation.  At that point, it will be time for the Harvestide festival, and Rachel and Alyssa will have their Twin Soul ceremony…  I had hoped for us to be back in Callenden by then, but there is no time.  Alyssa, do I have your permission to ask your family to attend us in Erevale, so that you have them with you when it’s time for the Twin Soul ceremony?”

 

                “Uh… yes!  Of course!  Thank you, Cass!”  Alyssa replied, a bit surprised.  “But you needn’t ask me permission.  You’re the king – and I’m one of your subjects.”

 

                “You’re also my friend, Alyssa, and I know how much this day means to you.  I didn’t want to screw it up for you – so I’m doing what I can to make it right.”

 

                “Thank you, Cass.”  Alyssa replied, smiling.  “I mean it.”

 

                “You’re very welcome.”  I rose from the bed, and cracked my knuckles.  “Now, who wants to be healed first?”

 

 

 

*              *              *

 

 

                The next two days flew by.  Rachel, Alyssa and Tika were able to leave the healers halls – my magical ministrations had reduced the time they needed to heal drastically – and had joined the rest of us in the palace.  Morag, Fionn and I had been meeting with the various lords and ladies of Callenden, both to reward those that threw down their weapons and left the field of battle, and to punish those who raised their hands against me.  Several newly raised barons and baronesses owed their positions and fiefdoms solely to me. 

 

                Sir Fionn helped adjust the ermine fur-trimmed robe I was wearing – the heavy thing was inlaid with jewels, and weighed about twenty pounds – and with all the other finery – which I called frippery – I was wearing, it felt like I was wearing nearly a full suit of armor.

 

                “Is all this really necessary?”  I groused.

 

                “You need to set a good example for your people, lad.”  He smiled.  “Besides, we both know you’re more comfortable in the armor anyway.  Just wear it today, and pack it away until the next time you need courtly gear.”

 

                “Yeah… Definitely.  I mean, its fall, but this robe is so heavy, I’m melting.”

 

                “Welcome to nobility and keeping up appearances, Castiel.”  Fionn laughed.  “I’m glad I don’t have to worry about such things.”

 

                I grinned, holding my tongue.  “We’ll see.  Maybe I’ll make you a lord.”

 

                “Don’t jest, Milord.”

 

                “Who’s jesting?”  I asked.  “You deserve it.”

 

                Fionn looked at me, surprised.  “Do you mean it, lad?”

 

                “Aye.  I do.”

 

                Fionn shook his head.  “As you wish, Milord,” and helped adjust my robe one more time.  “You’re ready.”

 

                “I don’t feel ready.” 

 

                “Good kings never do.”  Fionn replied, smiling.  “You’ll do great.”

 

                “Thanks, Fionn.”  I replied, and stepped out of the vestibule onto the dais of the Cathedral of Callenden.  Before me, was virtually the entire population of the city – plus many of the assembled lords and ladies of Callenden – and the cathedral was packed.  Standing room only, literally.  On the dais stood Her Grace, Kinara Fallows, High Priestess of Isundal and Askeline, and their children, the Twins, Feana and Hathor, waiting next to a crown of gold and jewels, resting on a velveteen pillow. 

 

My crown.  Gulp!

 

                I walked forward, entering the dais proper – and arrayed before me, I could see Sir Fionn, Rachel, Morag, Alyssa and Tika – who was on Alyssa’s shoulder, giving me a “thumbs up” sign – sitting in the front row, waiting.  I smiled, and walked over to the priestess with greater confidence.  This was my moment.

 

                “Geoffrey Castiel Fowler, grandson of King Collin Mac Tavish and Lady Janet Fowler.  You have presented yourself before this assembly, and before the gods, to determine if you are worthy of the crown of Callenden.”  High Priestess Fallows incanted.  “Kneel, Lord Fowler.”

 

                I knelt, and felt her hand brush my temple, leaving a scented oil upon it that burned slightly on my skin.  It smelled faintly of amber.

 

                “Lord Morian, Kingmaker and Lord of Law, we ask your blessing through your cousins, Isundal and Askeline.  If this man before you is not worthy of this crown, then show us a sign – else, with your blessing, he will become King of Callenden.”  Kinara waited a moment – and there was no sign. 

 

                “Then, by the powers vested in me by Isundal and Askeline, and the blessing of Morian, I name you King Geoffrey Castiel Fowler, first of his line.”  As she said this, she lowered the crown onto my head. 

 

                It was strange… It felt light and heavy at the same time… far heavier than its weight would seem.

 

                “Rise, King Geoffrey!”  Kinara continued, and waited as I rose.  “Hail King Geoffrey, the Giant slayer!  Long may he reign!”

 

                The crowd erupted into cheers, and all I could hear was the refrain “Hail King Geoffrey!” as the church bells chimed throughout the city of Callenden.  To say it was a singular moment would be an understatement.  It was one of the best moments of my life.  Rachel and Morag were watching me with joy in their eyes, and my friends were arrayed all around me. 

 

                We did it.  I thought.  We won.

 

                It was a good day.

 

                 

                The next several hours were spent with me taking the oaths of fealty from my knights and lords – and showing them my gratitude for their loyalty by throwing them a feast in the great hall.  To be honest, I don’t remember much of that evening – the wine was flowing freely, and we all celebrated perhaps a bit too much.

 

                When I woke, it was to a gentle tapping on my door – and gods if it didn’t sound like the thundering of an artillery barrage to my aching head.  My mouth felt dry and furry, and my eyes were most certainly bloodshot, and I felt more than a little nauseous.

 

                “Enough, Enough!”  I cried, stumbling out of bed and to the door, still in my boxers – what the locals would call my breech clothes. I opened the door, preventing one last knock by pulling it back – and saw Rachel there, in one of her lovely dresses, grinning from ear to ear.

 

                “Although you present quite an attractive picture, your Majesty, perhaps you should put some pants on first?”  She twitted.

“Not that I mind, mind you.”  She ran her hand along my chest, and I couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation of her flirting.

 

                “Thank you for whispering, Rachel.”

 

                “Is somebody hung over?”  She laughed quietly.

 

                “Aye.”  I grinned.  “It was quite a party last night.”

 

                “It was.  Do you remember all of it?”

 

                I tried to recall – and to my dismay, I could not.  “Um… no.”

 

                “Excellent!  Then it shall be Morag’s and my secret!”  She grinned.

 

                “Wait!  What secret!?”  I asked.

 

                “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore, my King, now would it?” 

 

                I growled in frustration, and motioned for her to enter my chambers.  “How late is it, Rachel?”

 

                “Going on ten o’ clock or so, Cass.  We need to be up, dressed, and on the road very soon if we’re to accompany Princess Morag back to Erevale.  It’s more than past time.”

 

                I nodded.  “I agree.  It’s time.  I need to get dressed.”

 

                “I’ll have some servants come in to assist you – apparently Prince Michael had a number of manservants who are unsure if they still have a job.  I’m sure they would be eager to help.  I’ll get someone to send you breakfast too.”

 

                “Thank you, Rachel.  Yeah, send the manservant or servants in.  I suppose I should dress like a king.”

 

                “Gee, you think?”  Rachel laughed.  “I’ll go talk to them.”  Rachel laughed one more time, and took a long look at my mostly naked body, and left my chambers.

 

                A few moments later, three men entered my chambers – an older man, in his fifties, I would guess, and a younger man in his thirties, as well as a young man of perhaps sixteen years.  All appeared to be dressed as well off servants, including the boy, and they seemed eager to serve, rushing over to introduce themselves.

 

                “Your Majesty, I am Merrick Duckworth, the late Prince Michael’s senior manservant, and this is my son Kent, and my grandson Samuel.  I have served Prince Michael for most of my adult life, and if it please you, I and my sons shall continue to serve you.”

 

                “Welcome, gentlemen, and thank you.”  I replied.  “I’m going to need some help getting ready for social events, as I’m sure you know.  I will accept your service, for the time being – until and unless I find someone better suited to the task.  May I ask your honest opinion of the late Prince?”

 

                “Your Majesty, just as we wouldn’t speak of the things you say in private with only us about, we shouldn’t speak of what Prince Michael said with us, but as to opinions, I feel he was a beast of a man, rude, and cruel.  He was selfish, ignorant, and violent – and struck us in anger many times.  I am glad he is gone.  I hope you are much different as a man and a King.”

 

                “Thank you for your honesty, Merrick.  I shall strive to be a better man and a better King than he would have made, and I promise you I shall never strike you, unless you raise your hand against me in battle.  There has been enough brutality in Callenden for an age.  I am not another Prince Michael.”

 

                “Thank you, your Majesty.  Then, shall we get your properly attired for your journey to Erevale?  I’m sure there are clothes in the palace we can find that will suit you.  Let’s see what we have to worth with!”

 

                And with that, the trio of men went to work – measuring me, and preparing to dress me for my role as king.  I vaguely wondered if I would ever dress myself again as the trio worked their magic.  It took perhaps an hour – and I was dressed like a king, in fancy clothes covered with cloth of gold, small gemstones, and fine silk and velvet.  I was more than a bit surprised to find out how warm the clothing was too – it was quite warm!

 

                “Thank you, gentlemen.  Now that you have my measurements, I ask that you have suitable clothing made for me – suitable for riding into battle as much as showing off in court.  No useless frippery, mind you – clothes that can serve both tasks.  If it pleases you, Samuel shall accompany me to Erevale to see to my needs while we travel.”

 

                Merrick and Kent nodded, graciously, and Samuel nodded, a bit surprised.  “Yes, your Majesty.  That would be most acceptable.”

 

                “Good.  I need to see to my comrades, and finish dining.  Have Samuel ready to join our coterie within the hour.”

 

                “Aye, your Majesty. Thank you.”  Merrick and the others bowed, and quickly left the room – and I had no doubt the elder Duckworth’s were about to give Samuel an earful of advice on his job before they left. 

 

I sat and ate some breakfast – cold sausage, some cheese, and an egg pie from the kitchens.  Simple fare, but good.  Maybe the kitchens would be more in order by the time I returned to Callenden?  I wondered to myself.  They had been disrupted pretty seriously by the attack – and food in the city was scarce at the moment due to the recent battle. The thin wine with breakfast helped offset a bit of my hangover, but I still felt unpleasant and sore.

 

“Well,” I said to no one in particular.  “It’s Fionn’s problem for a few weeks.”  I grinned in anticipation of what was to come, and headed out of my chambers to find Fionn and the others, my hunger sated. 

 

 

*              *              *

 

 

                “What do you mean, I’m in charge?”  Fionn retorted.  “You need me with you!”

 

                “No, Fionn… I need you here.”  I replied.  “Morag can guide me through the politics at Erevale, and we’ll be travelling with an army – so I’ll be safe.  I need you here, as my right hand, keeping the peace and making sure the city doesn’t slip into chaos while I’m gone.  That’s why you’ll need your new rank, to make it official.”

 

                “What new rank?”

 

                I cleared my voice, and spoke in what I hoped was a kingly tone.  “Sir Fionn, kneel before me.”

 

                Sir Fionn knelt, looking confused and honestly a bit surprised.  “Your Majesty, I…”

 

                “Silence, my friend.  You deserve this.”  I said, quietly, and Fionn nodded, relaxing.

 

                “Sir Fionn Ballantine, in return for your aid and your loyal service, I King Geoffrey Castiel Fowler, do raise you to the status of Castellan of the city of Callenden, with all the rank and duties that entails, and to rule the city wisely in my absence.  I also bestow upon you lands, to be determined upon my return, sufficient to honor the services you have done for me and my kingdom.”  I drew my sword, and tapped him lightly on both shoulders.  “Rise, Lord Castellan, and if you wish, tell me how much I’ve just annoyed you.”

 

                Fionn stood, and looked red faced with frustration.  “Your Majesty, how can I perform my duty as a Vigilant when I’m tied to single place?” 

 

                “Lord Castellan, Fionn, my friend, let’s speak plainly.  While you are still hale in body, we both know neither of us is going to be getting any younger.  I’m NOT saying you’re not capable – I am saying that in a few years or more you might be grateful for a respectable position to retire to.  Right now, though, I need you to know something.  First off, you deserve this.  You helped me retake my Kingdom, you trained me – hell, you’re one of my closest advisors and friends.  I want to reward you for what you’ve done!  Secondly, your military knowledge – and the respect the people hold you in will be extremely useful in keeping the city calm when I’m gone…  And thirdly, we need to rebuild the castle and train as many new soldiers as want to join up – and you trained me well.  There is no shame in teaching a new generation of warriors – or perhaps even new vigilants!”

 

                Fionn paused, as if he was mulling over what to say.  “Thank you, Your Majesty, for your compliments, your fine words, and my promotion, but if we are speaking plainly, then I ask you don’t blindside me like that in the future.  I honestly would have aided you for no reward.  It was the right thing to do – and I also consider us to be friends.  You don’t owe me this.”

 

                “Would you accept me saying that your deeds and valor have earned it, my friend?” 

 

                “Aye.”  He nodded.  “I could do that.”

 

                “Then it’s settled.  I’ll inform the servants and the staff, and you’ll be in charge while we’re gone, probably until after the harvest festival.  While we’re gone, I’d like you to hold a festival here, using some of the wealth from the treasury to help it along – to let the people have a reason to celebrate.  Maybe we can import some fireworks from Port Coventry or pay for a feast for the townsfolk?”

 

                “I’ll think of something suitable, Your Majesty.”  Fionn nodded.  “I understand why you have to go.  I’ll do my best in making the people of Callenden understand.”

 

                “Thank you, Fionn.  Now, have you seen Rachel and the others?”

 

                “They’re waiting by the stables, Your Majesty.  I believe they were planning on taking several coaches, along with an escort of Erevalish knights, as well as some of the Erevalish lords as well.  The rest of the army that isn’t staying here will follow behind you, as far as I know.”

 

                “Thank you, Fionn.  We won’t be gone long, I promise.  We’ll be fine.”

 

                Fionn clasped my shoulder, and nodded.  “I hope so, lad.”  He began, emotion choking his voice.  “You’ve become a fine Vigilant, and one of my best pupils.  Stay safe.”

 

                I smiled at Fionn, and clasped his shoulder as well.  “I’ll do my best, my friend.” 

 

A moment passed, and we parted.  I had to inform the captain of the royal guards and the servants of Sir Fionn’s new position, and then get my carcass to the stables – Morag and others were undoubtedly eager to get going, considering the circumstances.

 

I sighed, and got to it.