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Rated: E · Fiction · Fantasy · #2316288
This is (the current) Chapter 1 of a Medieval Fantasy story that doesn't have a name yet
Chapter I






It wasn’t the slap itself that shocked him as he hit the hardwood floor... merely the astounding force behind it.
          “You idiot boy!” the old man hissed at him in a hushed voice.
          Leaning onto his elbows to look up at the man, Andre spoke in a calm tone, “No-one knows what I have done, Father.
          “You cannot be so naive as to believe that! The king has spies everywhere watching all of us!”
          “The Queen has guaranteed it…”
          Father William stiffened and looked at him quizzically, “What can you possibly mean by that?”
          Andre stood up and replaced the chair that had been knocked over with him. “I mean I have sworn to her that if she helps us, I will make sure that she is well taken care of after the usurper has been eliminated.”
          “Us? I will not be assisting you with this madness, boy. I have not lived this long only to die to your foolish endeavours.”
          “I understand your reluctance of course, Father, but believe me when I say I am well aware of the danger to myself and my accomplices if we are discovered. The queen is nigh enthusiastic to ensure our ventures shall not be exposed.”
          Still somewhat furious but careful to keep his voice down, Father William whispered his response, “The Queen is a foreigner! She has no real leverage on the King’s spies. Need I also remind you it was her grandfather’s kingdom that committed the atrocity in the first place?”
          Andre stood silent for a moment seeing he was failing to convince his elder. He sat down and rubbed his ink stained hands on his knees in an attempt to calm himself, the rough brown wool of his robes catching on a papercut, “I remember very well what King Edgar did, but Queen Gwendolyn is not akin to him in her nature. She condemns his actions and she has her own spies in the King’s court. She is keeping me informed about everything the King is thinking and doing.”
          Father William stared at Andre incredulously, “How did you convince her that she could trust you? What could you possibly have to offer her that she cannot get anywhere else?”
          Nervous, Andre avoided meeting the Father’s glare, “I... I love her, Father. I have promised her a life free of responsibilities and pains.”
          The glare vanished from Father William’s face, replaced with surprise and disbelief. He sat down so abruptly he almost seemed to fall into his chair. “You are mad. That can be the only explanation. If the King so much as suspects a hint of possibility that the Queen has become unfaithful, he will torture and kill her. Not before he makes her watch you die, slowly, painfully. You cannot begin to comprehend how ruthless the man is.”
          Andre sat quietly uncertain of how to alleviate his situation. Father William sat across him seeming almost calm now. There was concern as well as frustration in his eyes. He sighed and moved to rub his brow but dropped his bony hand onto his knee instead, “Get me a drink, boy. Not water.”
          Andre nodded and jumped to his feet before the Father had finished speaking to fetch a cup of ale and knelt before the elder priest handing it to him.
          “They have watered this down more every passing year.” Father William grumbled after sipping the pale liquid.
          They sat silently for a long moment while Father William drank his ale before Andre dared to stand again and move to the opposite side of the table nearest the door. Looking at the table as he leaned against it with his hands, Andre spoke cautiously, “I want to do this not only to free the Queen but to help prevent the imminent war with the Evadrons. At the very least improve our chances of surviving to rebuild afterwards. Without magic we have no way to truly protect our country.”
          Father William rubbed his forehead before he looked to Andre and said calmly, “You are a lovesick fool justifying a civil war with the people’s fear of the Undead.”
          Andre looked up to face him suddenly, “It is not irrational fear. We cannot afford to lose this war, not this time. We don’t currently have the means to defend ourselves and the King refuses to allow anyone to find a solution, but I have! I have found a way to bring back magic to humanity and I need your help, Father. You are our only hope of completing the ritual.”
          They both sat in silence for a while before Father William spoke again with concern, “Andre, listen to me. The sea is far too treacherous, and if you went by land the border guards of Thaeron would never let you through, especially not if you had a single royal along, let alone two. The fey would spot them in an instant. If you even managed to make it that far.”
          “We will go by land but not over the bridge, I have secured us a way through the north pass of the mountains. We will be in a caravan with some artists.” He placed quite an emphasis on ‘artists’ with a wry smile.
          “I suspect I would not be best pleased by your company of miscreants and martyrs. You don’t have dwarves in on this do you?”
          Andre poured a cup of ale for himself as he answered, “Oh no, nothing of the sort, Father. I have a hunter familiar with the mountain pass who will guide us through.”
          Father William placed his cup near Andre, who refilled it with some gusto. Neither spoke for a moment as they refreshed themselves with the rather weak ale.
          “Which hunter?”, Father William asked at last.
          Andre lifted his cup in salute, “’Longshanks’.”
          Father William looked at him in a seriously dubious manner, “I hope you have paid him well. That boy is not appreciative of wasted time.”
          Andre nodded and sipped his ale, “Of course I have, and I have promised him more upon completion of our venture.”
          “Very good. And is he aware of exactly how the ritual works? We can’t have him getting in the way, making claims for honour and justice that could delay us.”
          Andre stood straighter and looked to his elder exuberantly, “He said he doesn’t care so long as he is paid well… but you do mean to accompany us now?
          He waved his hand in defeat, “Very well, for the good of humanity, eh? And you should keep a close eye on Gareth as we progress, just in case he… has his mind changed.”
          Andre’s eyes lit up suddenly, “Of course, and I have asked Lady Katherine here already. She is waiting in the scriptorium.”
          Father William quirked a brow, “What of Lady Kyra? I’ll not ask how you have communicated with her mother in any case.”
          Andre grimaced in shame, he looked to the table and brushed crumbs onto the floor, “Kyra is missing from the college, the priestesses sent word that she ran away three days ago.”
          Father William stood setting down his cup as he rose, “You received this information mere hours after, I presume?”
          Andre shifted his weight back and forth a bit, “A day after. And I sent ‘longshanks’ to retrieve her as soon as I found out.”
          “Good, and I hope the boy knows what he is getting into with her.”
          Andre looked up at him again, “I have warned him, although he says she won’t have any of her gifts if she hasn’t changed yet.” His face paled a bit, “She hasn’t, has she?”
          Father William looked at him incredulously, “No. Not if the priestesses have any sense at all.”
          Andre relaxed a bit and nodded, “Very good. As she is she will have much more effect than Lady Katherine could.”
          Father William blinked in puzzlement and stiffened, “There is such a thing as too much magic… and Kyra will be a much more appropriate candidate to introduce to the people as the heir. And in any case, Katherine is nearly beyond her years to bear children and has spent almost her entire life in a cathouse. Lady Kyra will require a substantial amount of encouragement to behave as a lady but she is young, pleasing in appearance and has lived in the college under immaculate tutelage.”
          Andre shook his head dubiously, “Kyra is illegitimate! No noble, foreign or otherwise would dare to marry her, let alone put a crown on her head.”
          Father William smirked, his wrinkled face showing some smug enjoyment, “Indeed?”
          Andre stared dumbfounded at Father William, “Is she not?”
          “Ask her mother.”
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