Richard Parker - Elsewhere

The risk was immense, but the chance to occupy the King’s Island without resistance was too great an opportunity to pass up. There were now over a dozen Tars of Sinis on the King’s Island plus over thirty high ranking acolytes, plus nearly three hundred heavy support troops. The Isle of Light was all but abandoned, with only one minor Tar and a few hundred support personnel. Nacht no longer had any real desire for the island, if they held it so much the better, but it no longer was of much importance. The Travelers were severely weakened and might not survive the coming years. If Queen Audra had her way they would quickly be eradicated, but Nacht would rather the Travelers be under his control. He would think of a way…if he had time to consolidate his hold on power.

At the moment, standing on the large balcony that led from his rooms, Nacht looked out over the great city of the High King and then to the sea beyond. It was very late, but he could not sleep. He was risking everything and knew it, but he did so with a large amount of satisfaction. He was growing old and his skills as Tar were diminishing. It was only a matter of time before he, as High Tar, would be challenged by some young, talented upstart. He thought it might have been the Tarina de Baard but she’d proven weaker than expected. But it was coming; he knew it. Everyone on Sinis knew it. His days of power were growing short, so why not risk everything; after all it would soon not be his in any case. Nacht smiled inwardly as a strong gust of wind pushed through the night and ruffled his thin shirt. If he could no longer control Sinis, then perhaps he could command the entire Inland Sea, the possible rewards were worth the gamble. And if he lost, well then let the young bastards go about building a new kingdom of Executioners. That would not be his problem. Allies were his problem, at the moment he and Queen Audra needed them desperately. King Donnis of the Rhondono continued to pledge his support but as yet no army had sailed from the land. This morning, Nacht urged the Queen to contact Prince Keel Palmerrio and inquire about any additional troops he could give the High King and his father.

Keel had been reticent at first but in the end he agreed to place two thousand more troops at their disposal to aid the Knights and his father. Both Nacht and Audra were elated by the news, but were also ignorant to the fact that the Palmerrio army occupying Toranado was on the march, returning home on Weldon’s orders. The commanding General of the disgraced army had the misfortune to tell Prince Keel that his father was captured and would be ransomed…the first demand being that all Palmerrio troops must leave Toranado, and so they were trudging across enemy land and coming home.

Keel was loyal to his father and would do anything to help secure his release. He would make no major move that might endanger his father…like sending an army against the enemy that now held him. Thus he gave Audra and Nacht two thousand troops even though he would soon have over twenty thousand at his disposal.

‘But what of the Temple Knights?’ Nacht wondered, his eyes drawn to a bright flash of lighting in the distance. A storm was coming but in the darkness he could not see it. The Knights were the key to everything. When they were finally victorious over the pesky Massi, would they accept the Tars of Sinis on the King’s Island? That was the real question…the real key. But it was one that Nacht himself could not answer…at least not at the moment.

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The ceremony to crown Gwaynn High King took nearly everyone by surprise, including Lonogan Bock who stood openmouthed as together the High Tarina Nystrom and Captain Hothgaard placed the crown on Gwaynn Massi’s head. The ceremony was filled with enough pomp to compensate for the lack of any real grandeur and was held fittingly on the Plateau between the two wooden bailey forts. Already General Bock had builders working on the plans for a new stone castle, but its completion was many, many years in the future. For Gwaynn, as well as for most of the Massi people, the day went by in a blur of excitement and wonder. The questions for Massi were many, the most prevalent being, who would now rule over the country. The High King ruled over the entirety of the Inland Sea and thus it would be a severe conflict of interest for the same man to rule over any of the Families lands. For a thousand years the High King ruled over all, but the King’s Island was the only real land under his direct control.

Gwaynn was not old enough to have any heirs of ruling age, nor were there any direct cousins. Arnot, Gwaynn’s father, was actually the youngest of three boys, and the lone male survivor; his eldest brother died of a rotting disease almost a decade ago and the second in childhood. Arnot did have an older sister still alive, Anitra. She was the eldest of the brood and in Gwaynn’s mind, nearly ancient. She was married, but barren, with no children, and she’d never shown any desire for courtly life. She was currently living out her life peacefully up on the finger outside the city of Heron. Her husband operated a prosperous fishing fleet in his younger days but he’d since sold that off and they were both living comfortably off the profits. Gwaynn had happy memories of visiting his Aunt, but few of them actually involved her, instead they were of Gwynn and the excitement of seeing the rough seas that continuously pounded the beaches up near the tip of the finger; no Anitra, at her age, would not be a good candidate to rule Massi even if she wanted such a thing.

But it was up to Gwaynn to decide, and as High King he could give whatever decision he made, legitimacy. All through the evening the people of Massi celebrated with vast quantities of food and drink and though many posed the question of who would rule over the land to the new High King, Gwaynn always declined any comment. Tar Nev, who surprisingly joined in the revelry, watched the new King with a constant smile, knowing that he’d chosen his student well.

Underneath the open sky, the people of Massi danced, drank and rejoiced in their freedom and good fortune. The air was very crisp but the celebration was ringed by a half dozen large bonfires that threw off a surprisingly large amount of light and heat, so most were very comfortable. Gwaynn, as High King, had little time for rest and was hauled out to dance by many a young maid. Samantha too, took a few turns, but being so far along with child she tired quickly and had to take many breaks. But surprisingly, Samantha did not feel any jealousy towards the other ladies who quickly jumped in to take her place, not even when Vio Valencia held Gwaynn a bit too close. It helped to know that on the morrow she would be Gwaynn’s bride…his Queen…the High Queen. She could be gracious and share her man…just a little. She suddenly ached for her father, wondering what he would make of her wedding…of her soon to be husband. But deep inside she knew her father would approve. How could he not?

“He has chosen his queen well,” said a voice to her right and Samantha looked over just as Tar Nev dropped into a chair at her side. Samantha colored slightly at the compliment, awed by the presence of the infamous Tar.

“My thoughts exactly,” she answered with a grin and Nev laughed loud and easy.

“I was thinking of my father,” she explained. “Of how I’m sure he would have approved of the match.”

Nev nodded. “Wise man, your father and a good husband. It was easy to see he adored Beth…your mother. And he was a master brewer.”

“You…you knew my father and mother?” Samantha asked, believing he was playing with her.

“Oh yes…Jon, my brother, always talked highly of Master Thomas Fultan but cursed him when he won the brewing contests, but then Jon was always a bit of a sore loser.”