Post by journeycat on Feb 13, 2010 8:25:14 GMT 10
Title: Spanning Across Forever
Rating: PG
Length: 2,516 words
Competitor: Raoul
Round/Fight: 1/C
Summary: Four generations, each with their own love story. It begins with Raoul and Keladry, continues with their illegitimate son and the princess, and spans across Queenscove and Conté to four young children who have inherited a legacy of sorrow and victory.
Author's Notes: Someone's dipped into Duke Gareth's fountain of youth.
-----
“You remind me quite a bit of your great-grandmother,” the old man said creakily, appraising the youngest princess with eyes barely visible in the wrinkles of his face. “You have her composure, and her determination, and her patience. Most think it was simply because of her Yamani upbringing, but she was a gentle soul by nature.”
He fell silent, settling back into the large armchair and staring vaguely off into space. Princess Thayet tried not to roll her eyes; after all, he was practically ancient, and she was taught to always respect the elderly. Besides, he always told the best stories. He was born in her great-great-grandparents’ reign, and he knew more than any other adult. So with all the forbearance of her almost-eleven years, she sat cross-legged at his feet, primly arranged her skirts around her skinny knees, and waited.
After a couple minutes passed, she couldn’t help but blurt out, “Will you tell me a story?”
The old hostler raised furry white eyebrows at her. “Don’t I always?”
Thayet blushed, but he gently patted her black curls. “Don’t fret, little princess. I love to tell you stories. Ah, and my audience grows!”
She twisted her neck around to find her older brother poised hesitantly in the doorway to the private library. She preferred if he didn’t join them—Jasson was the middle child and always found a way to hog all the attention. But the old man gestured and said,
“Come, Your Highness. I’m about to tell Thayet here a story of your ancestors.”
He paused, surely thinking that stories were for children, but curiosity brought him further into the room to sit beside Thayet, like when they were both small children. He was in his first year as a squire and didn’t associate with her as much as he used to, so she found she rather liked this.
“Now,” the man continued, “your namesake, great-great-grandmother Thayet, was the most beautiful woman in Tortall—perhaps even all the world. I think the only one who came near was the princess Kalasin, whose descendants rule Carthak. She founded the Riders and the royal ladies, and started schools for the poor. She was a great queen, and you have quite the name to live up to.”
His rheumy pale eyes were kind as he added, “Not that I have any doubt that you’ll do it grandly.”
Thayet smiled at him. The late queen from ages past was one of her idols, and she hoped to do as much good as she did, whether she was married to a great house in Tortall or into a royal house in foreign lands.
“Sometimes women like Thayet overshadow others. Fortunately, the woman I want to speak of made a name for herself when she was only ten, and has never suffered for lack of acknowledgement.”
She felt a throb of disappointment. She wanted to hear about Queen Thayet I!
“I’m talking about your great-grandmother, Lady Knight Keladry,” the old man said, his expression grown distant and dreamy. “I knew her well, and better than most. She used the glaive better than your own mother, and Queen Wilina can trace her ancestry back to the Yamani Islands, where they are renowned for it. She was the bravest knight I ever knew. When she was fresh into her shield, she defeated a child-killing Scanran brute and a necromancer single-handedly. I was just a child then, but I remember it well.”
Thayet was barely aware of her older sister, Lianne, joining the story-time on Jasson’s other side. She was engrossed in this; more than Queen Thayet I, and even more than her recently deceased grandmother, Queen Lianokami, she worshipped the tales of the great Lady Knight Keladry, bold and fearless and Protector of the Small.
“She was surrounded by controversy for much of her life,” he said, almost sadly. “She didn’t deserve it. She was the first lady knight to be properly acknowledged in so many years, and there were plenty of those who wanted to see her fail. So, of course, when it became known she was involved in a relationship with Sir Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie’s Peak, her former knight-master and a married man, it set back her reputation not a little bit.”
Unaware that they were, the three royal children were learning forward, all eyes focused on his weathered, ancient face. They were not ignorant to this tale—it was one with repercussions that echoed through the generations, so of course they would have heard it many times in history lessons and from snide noble children. But this was the first time it had been told to them directly, and now they were getting facts from somehow who allegedly witnessed this firsthand.
“I got in so many fights as a boy,” the old man sighed. “I was older by the time this all got out, and at the university. I lost count of all the times I broke bones, trying to shut up those loud-mouthed noble boys who thought they knew everything and looked down on me. I was common-born, and it was only by Lady Knight Keladry’s good grace that I was accepted into the university. I wasn’t about to hear a single word against her.
“And then, when she discovered when she was with child—that caused a stir akin to that of an apocalypse. It totally divided the court. Some insisted her shield be revoked, which was ridiculous as it had nothing to do with her merit as a knight. Those were the conservatives. The most vocal was, not surprisingly, the lord of Stone Mountain—the current one has caused your father no little aggravation.”
He paused, absently running swollen, arthritic fingers through the wisps of his white hair. “And then you had those who supported her through it all, like the lord of Cavall and all her year-mates, and especially Sir Neal, your great-grandfather on your mother’s side. It’s why you have such a great name, Baird—you are named for both a king of Conté and a duke of Queenscove. Yours is what combines the houses.”
Thayet blinked, momentarily poleaxed. And then she heard her brother’s voice behind her.
“Don’t you think they’re a little young to be hearing this, old man?”
“Stop it, Baird,” Lianne groaned. “You always ruin everything.”
The prince and heir strode into the room, frowning slightly. He alone had inherited their mother’s emerald green eyes, but it was he and Thayet who both inherited what was called the infamous Queenscove nose.
“You know your lineage,” he argued. “Why do you want to drag up all this old slop?”
“It’s not slop,” Lianne retorted, quick as a whip. “All I ever hear about is Queenscove and the Yamani Islands, because everyone thinks we’re too delicate to hear anything else. Well, I want to learn the interesting stuff. I mean, we wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t happened.”
Baird scowled at her, but couldn’t think of a retort. Thayet inwardly cheered when he half-sat on the arm of a chair, crossing his arms and waiting for the old man to continue. What Lianne said was true. Their mother, Wilina, was born to Queenscove, and had grown up knowing Keladry very well; she was godsmother to Wilina’s own father, and all his siblings. But she didn’t let the king talk about them when it seemed like he was touching too close to the subject.
“So milady Keladry was with child,” the old man continued, as though nothing happened. “She born a son and named him Rafel. I watched over him for most of his young life, did you know that? I played nursemaid to your grandfather.”
Even Baird smiled a little.
“Eventually the storm calmed, but Rafel would grow up with the stigma of a bastard. It was lucky he was born male, perhaps. A bastard daughter would not have as many options as he did. He was a handsome boy, and terribly tall—it’s where you all got it from—and tried for his shield. He was knighted on his eighteenth birthday.”
Unable to contain herself, Thayet said, “And that’s when he met Grandmother!”
Jasson shushed her irritably, and the man smiled.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. He knew your grandmother Lianokami before that. Remember, Lady Knight Keladry was close with Queen Shinkokami and King Roald, so they would have met when they were young.”
Baird edged closer, and Jasson scooted closer to Lianne to make room for him. The eldest prince squeezed between them.
“She was about seven years older than him, and still unwed. That upset many people. After all, King Jonathan the Fourth was getting quite old by then, and the people wanted an heir once Prince Roald took the throne. It’s funny, thinking back on it now. No doubt most of them wished she had remained unmarried.”
“Rafel asked her to marry him,” Baird said quietly.
“Liano was their only child,” the man said, nodding. “She would inherit Conté and the throne, and was expected to make a good marriage. Instead, she announced to her parents she had fallen in love with the bastard Sir Rafel of Mindelan. They didn’t mind—they were good people, I met them on several occasions—but it threw the court in an uproar. After all, she would be their queen. They didn’t want a bastard son as their king.”
He stroked his chin thoughtfully, lost in memory.
“I was in my thirties by then. I had quit the university because I realized it wasn’t for me, and instead entered an apprenticeship with Mistress Daine. I married Sarra not long after that, gods bless her gentle soul. She’s gone from this earth now, but she gave me the best years of my life, and it was an honor marrying into a family such as the Salmalins.”
The princes and princesses exchanged startled looks. He had been Chief Hostler for the Royal Stables for all of their lives; they did not know he was widowed, or that his wife had been Sarralyn Salmalin. Thayet thought that, maybe, she loved him a little bit then with her romantic little girl’s heart. What a poor old man, she thought, sad for him.
“Anyway,” he continued, “I was at the palace for much of my life, so I knew what was going on. Servants always know more than the nobles. There was talking from some dissenters about finding a new heir if Liano went through with it. They looked into the houses of Naxen, haMinch, King’s Reach and Queenscove, but all of them refused. It would throw Tortall into a civil war if they tried to put someone without connections to Conté on the throne, and no one wanted that.
“In the end, Liano got her way. She was a cunning woman, and she knew that it would eventually turn in her favor. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
“And then she had Papa,” Thayet piped up.
Lianne snapped, “Thay, shut up.”
“Be kind, Lianne. Yes, Liano and Rafel married, and when King Jonathan passed and Roald took the throne, they became next-in-line. Sadly, Sir Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie’s Peak passed away two weeks after Liano bore a son.”
It was unromantic, boyish Jasson who asked, “Did she miss him?”
The old man didn’t need to know to whom he was referring. “She did not speak of it, but I know she did. I believe she loved him more than anyone really knew. She never did marry.”
Lianne sighed. “Oh, that’s so sad.”
The old man chuckled. “Ah, but milady Keladry was never one to wallow in her own self-pity. Perhaps she was lonely, and missed him terribly, but she loved her duty as a knight. She was happy doing what she was meant to. And remember, she had Rafel, who was now a prince of Tortall. He was the pride of Mindelan, and so was the little prince, Jonathan the Fifth.”
“Papa!”
This time Lianne giggled with Thayet, not bothering to hush her. “What was Papa like when he was little?”
The old man laughed out loud. “I don’t think any prince ever got in as much trouble as he did. He loved to pull pranks and gave his nursemaids so many gray hairs. Not a few on my head are from him, either. He matured, but he never lost his sense of humor. I think he got a lot of that from Sir Raoul.”
“And then he met Mother,” Baird suggested.
Lianne looked like she was trying not to smile.
“Ah, yes. Wilina of Queenscove was a beautiful woman, with Yamani discipline and Tortallan coloring. It was a match approved all around, fortunately. She was from a good house, and it would even out Rafel’s lineage. Although, by the time he and Lianokami were crowned, it was mostly just a story told by old-fashioned conservatives to pollute their spawn.”
“When did Keladry die?”
“It wasn’t long after your parents married. Most of her friends had passed by then, and she had gotten too old to fight anymore. She was the training-master for about six years. But she died peacefully. Sometimes I think she would preferred to have died fighting, but at least she wasn’t in pain.”
He fell silent then, his eyes blank. Thayet wanted to hug him. She had learned more about him in the hour he had spoken of her family than in all the years she had known him. It was clear to her, now, that he had loved Keladry deeply, profoundly, without reservation.
“And you know the story of your parents, how they had the four of you and took the throne a couple years ago. This is your birthright, princes and princesses. Embrace it, because the people you descend from are good, brave people. I would be proud to call them family.”
Baird looked away, thoughtful. Perhaps he, more than any of them, should listen to that advice the most. It was his crown, after all. Thayet leapt to her feet, feeling restless.
“That was my favorite story ever,” she said honestly. “Thank you.”
“These old lungs only have so much breath left in them,” he sighed. “I figure I might as well use what I have to spread what I know. Now run off with you, Princess Thayet, and have a little fun before you grow up too much.”
She obeyed willingly, leaving the old hostler to discuss more adult things with her siblings, who would better understand what he had to say. She directed her course toward the stables, thinking of taking her little mare out for a run in the Royal Forest.
She rounded a corner and bumped into her mother.
“There is no reason a princess needs to be running through the palace,” Wilina said dryly. “Have a care, dear. What have you been doing? You’ve been so quiet.”
“Nothing much,” Thayet said, and smiled. “Master Tobe was just telling us a story.”
Rating: PG
Length: 2,516 words
Competitor: Raoul
Round/Fight: 1/C
Summary: Four generations, each with their own love story. It begins with Raoul and Keladry, continues with their illegitimate son and the princess, and spans across Queenscove and Conté to four young children who have inherited a legacy of sorrow and victory.
Author's Notes: Someone's dipped into Duke Gareth's fountain of youth.
-----
“You remind me quite a bit of your great-grandmother,” the old man said creakily, appraising the youngest princess with eyes barely visible in the wrinkles of his face. “You have her composure, and her determination, and her patience. Most think it was simply because of her Yamani upbringing, but she was a gentle soul by nature.”
He fell silent, settling back into the large armchair and staring vaguely off into space. Princess Thayet tried not to roll her eyes; after all, he was practically ancient, and she was taught to always respect the elderly. Besides, he always told the best stories. He was born in her great-great-grandparents’ reign, and he knew more than any other adult. So with all the forbearance of her almost-eleven years, she sat cross-legged at his feet, primly arranged her skirts around her skinny knees, and waited.
After a couple minutes passed, she couldn’t help but blurt out, “Will you tell me a story?”
The old hostler raised furry white eyebrows at her. “Don’t I always?”
Thayet blushed, but he gently patted her black curls. “Don’t fret, little princess. I love to tell you stories. Ah, and my audience grows!”
She twisted her neck around to find her older brother poised hesitantly in the doorway to the private library. She preferred if he didn’t join them—Jasson was the middle child and always found a way to hog all the attention. But the old man gestured and said,
“Come, Your Highness. I’m about to tell Thayet here a story of your ancestors.”
He paused, surely thinking that stories were for children, but curiosity brought him further into the room to sit beside Thayet, like when they were both small children. He was in his first year as a squire and didn’t associate with her as much as he used to, so she found she rather liked this.
“Now,” the man continued, “your namesake, great-great-grandmother Thayet, was the most beautiful woman in Tortall—perhaps even all the world. I think the only one who came near was the princess Kalasin, whose descendants rule Carthak. She founded the Riders and the royal ladies, and started schools for the poor. She was a great queen, and you have quite the name to live up to.”
His rheumy pale eyes were kind as he added, “Not that I have any doubt that you’ll do it grandly.”
Thayet smiled at him. The late queen from ages past was one of her idols, and she hoped to do as much good as she did, whether she was married to a great house in Tortall or into a royal house in foreign lands.
“Sometimes women like Thayet overshadow others. Fortunately, the woman I want to speak of made a name for herself when she was only ten, and has never suffered for lack of acknowledgement.”
She felt a throb of disappointment. She wanted to hear about Queen Thayet I!
“I’m talking about your great-grandmother, Lady Knight Keladry,” the old man said, his expression grown distant and dreamy. “I knew her well, and better than most. She used the glaive better than your own mother, and Queen Wilina can trace her ancestry back to the Yamani Islands, where they are renowned for it. She was the bravest knight I ever knew. When she was fresh into her shield, she defeated a child-killing Scanran brute and a necromancer single-handedly. I was just a child then, but I remember it well.”
Thayet was barely aware of her older sister, Lianne, joining the story-time on Jasson’s other side. She was engrossed in this; more than Queen Thayet I, and even more than her recently deceased grandmother, Queen Lianokami, she worshipped the tales of the great Lady Knight Keladry, bold and fearless and Protector of the Small.
“She was surrounded by controversy for much of her life,” he said, almost sadly. “She didn’t deserve it. She was the first lady knight to be properly acknowledged in so many years, and there were plenty of those who wanted to see her fail. So, of course, when it became known she was involved in a relationship with Sir Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie’s Peak, her former knight-master and a married man, it set back her reputation not a little bit.”
Unaware that they were, the three royal children were learning forward, all eyes focused on his weathered, ancient face. They were not ignorant to this tale—it was one with repercussions that echoed through the generations, so of course they would have heard it many times in history lessons and from snide noble children. But this was the first time it had been told to them directly, and now they were getting facts from somehow who allegedly witnessed this firsthand.
“I got in so many fights as a boy,” the old man sighed. “I was older by the time this all got out, and at the university. I lost count of all the times I broke bones, trying to shut up those loud-mouthed noble boys who thought they knew everything and looked down on me. I was common-born, and it was only by Lady Knight Keladry’s good grace that I was accepted into the university. I wasn’t about to hear a single word against her.
“And then, when she discovered when she was with child—that caused a stir akin to that of an apocalypse. It totally divided the court. Some insisted her shield be revoked, which was ridiculous as it had nothing to do with her merit as a knight. Those were the conservatives. The most vocal was, not surprisingly, the lord of Stone Mountain—the current one has caused your father no little aggravation.”
He paused, absently running swollen, arthritic fingers through the wisps of his white hair. “And then you had those who supported her through it all, like the lord of Cavall and all her year-mates, and especially Sir Neal, your great-grandfather on your mother’s side. It’s why you have such a great name, Baird—you are named for both a king of Conté and a duke of Queenscove. Yours is what combines the houses.”
Thayet blinked, momentarily poleaxed. And then she heard her brother’s voice behind her.
“Don’t you think they’re a little young to be hearing this, old man?”
“Stop it, Baird,” Lianne groaned. “You always ruin everything.”
The prince and heir strode into the room, frowning slightly. He alone had inherited their mother’s emerald green eyes, but it was he and Thayet who both inherited what was called the infamous Queenscove nose.
“You know your lineage,” he argued. “Why do you want to drag up all this old slop?”
“It’s not slop,” Lianne retorted, quick as a whip. “All I ever hear about is Queenscove and the Yamani Islands, because everyone thinks we’re too delicate to hear anything else. Well, I want to learn the interesting stuff. I mean, we wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t happened.”
Baird scowled at her, but couldn’t think of a retort. Thayet inwardly cheered when he half-sat on the arm of a chair, crossing his arms and waiting for the old man to continue. What Lianne said was true. Their mother, Wilina, was born to Queenscove, and had grown up knowing Keladry very well; she was godsmother to Wilina’s own father, and all his siblings. But she didn’t let the king talk about them when it seemed like he was touching too close to the subject.
“So milady Keladry was with child,” the old man continued, as though nothing happened. “She born a son and named him Rafel. I watched over him for most of his young life, did you know that? I played nursemaid to your grandfather.”
Even Baird smiled a little.
“Eventually the storm calmed, but Rafel would grow up with the stigma of a bastard. It was lucky he was born male, perhaps. A bastard daughter would not have as many options as he did. He was a handsome boy, and terribly tall—it’s where you all got it from—and tried for his shield. He was knighted on his eighteenth birthday.”
Unable to contain herself, Thayet said, “And that’s when he met Grandmother!”
Jasson shushed her irritably, and the man smiled.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. He knew your grandmother Lianokami before that. Remember, Lady Knight Keladry was close with Queen Shinkokami and King Roald, so they would have met when they were young.”
Baird edged closer, and Jasson scooted closer to Lianne to make room for him. The eldest prince squeezed between them.
“She was about seven years older than him, and still unwed. That upset many people. After all, King Jonathan the Fourth was getting quite old by then, and the people wanted an heir once Prince Roald took the throne. It’s funny, thinking back on it now. No doubt most of them wished she had remained unmarried.”
“Rafel asked her to marry him,” Baird said quietly.
“Liano was their only child,” the man said, nodding. “She would inherit Conté and the throne, and was expected to make a good marriage. Instead, she announced to her parents she had fallen in love with the bastard Sir Rafel of Mindelan. They didn’t mind—they were good people, I met them on several occasions—but it threw the court in an uproar. After all, she would be their queen. They didn’t want a bastard son as their king.”
He stroked his chin thoughtfully, lost in memory.
“I was in my thirties by then. I had quit the university because I realized it wasn’t for me, and instead entered an apprenticeship with Mistress Daine. I married Sarra not long after that, gods bless her gentle soul. She’s gone from this earth now, but she gave me the best years of my life, and it was an honor marrying into a family such as the Salmalins.”
The princes and princesses exchanged startled looks. He had been Chief Hostler for the Royal Stables for all of their lives; they did not know he was widowed, or that his wife had been Sarralyn Salmalin. Thayet thought that, maybe, she loved him a little bit then with her romantic little girl’s heart. What a poor old man, she thought, sad for him.
“Anyway,” he continued, “I was at the palace for much of my life, so I knew what was going on. Servants always know more than the nobles. There was talking from some dissenters about finding a new heir if Liano went through with it. They looked into the houses of Naxen, haMinch, King’s Reach and Queenscove, but all of them refused. It would throw Tortall into a civil war if they tried to put someone without connections to Conté on the throne, and no one wanted that.
“In the end, Liano got her way. She was a cunning woman, and she knew that it would eventually turn in her favor. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
“And then she had Papa,” Thayet piped up.
Lianne snapped, “Thay, shut up.”
“Be kind, Lianne. Yes, Liano and Rafel married, and when King Jonathan passed and Roald took the throne, they became next-in-line. Sadly, Sir Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie’s Peak passed away two weeks after Liano bore a son.”
It was unromantic, boyish Jasson who asked, “Did she miss him?”
The old man didn’t need to know to whom he was referring. “She did not speak of it, but I know she did. I believe she loved him more than anyone really knew. She never did marry.”
Lianne sighed. “Oh, that’s so sad.”
The old man chuckled. “Ah, but milady Keladry was never one to wallow in her own self-pity. Perhaps she was lonely, and missed him terribly, but she loved her duty as a knight. She was happy doing what she was meant to. And remember, she had Rafel, who was now a prince of Tortall. He was the pride of Mindelan, and so was the little prince, Jonathan the Fifth.”
“Papa!”
This time Lianne giggled with Thayet, not bothering to hush her. “What was Papa like when he was little?”
The old man laughed out loud. “I don’t think any prince ever got in as much trouble as he did. He loved to pull pranks and gave his nursemaids so many gray hairs. Not a few on my head are from him, either. He matured, but he never lost his sense of humor. I think he got a lot of that from Sir Raoul.”
“And then he met Mother,” Baird suggested.
Lianne looked like she was trying not to smile.
“Ah, yes. Wilina of Queenscove was a beautiful woman, with Yamani discipline and Tortallan coloring. It was a match approved all around, fortunately. She was from a good house, and it would even out Rafel’s lineage. Although, by the time he and Lianokami were crowned, it was mostly just a story told by old-fashioned conservatives to pollute their spawn.”
“When did Keladry die?”
“It wasn’t long after your parents married. Most of her friends had passed by then, and she had gotten too old to fight anymore. She was the training-master for about six years. But she died peacefully. Sometimes I think she would preferred to have died fighting, but at least she wasn’t in pain.”
He fell silent then, his eyes blank. Thayet wanted to hug him. She had learned more about him in the hour he had spoken of her family than in all the years she had known him. It was clear to her, now, that he had loved Keladry deeply, profoundly, without reservation.
“And you know the story of your parents, how they had the four of you and took the throne a couple years ago. This is your birthright, princes and princesses. Embrace it, because the people you descend from are good, brave people. I would be proud to call them family.”
Baird looked away, thoughtful. Perhaps he, more than any of them, should listen to that advice the most. It was his crown, after all. Thayet leapt to her feet, feeling restless.
“That was my favorite story ever,” she said honestly. “Thank you.”
“These old lungs only have so much breath left in them,” he sighed. “I figure I might as well use what I have to spread what I know. Now run off with you, Princess Thayet, and have a little fun before you grow up too much.”
She obeyed willingly, leaving the old hostler to discuss more adult things with her siblings, who would better understand what he had to say. She directed her course toward the stables, thinking of taking her little mare out for a run in the Royal Forest.
She rounded a corner and bumped into her mother.
“There is no reason a princess needs to be running through the palace,” Wilina said dryly. “Have a care, dear. What have you been doing? You’ve been so quiet.”
“Nothing much,” Thayet said, and smiled. “Master Tobe was just telling us a story.”