Gwendolyn stood at the threshold of the great oaken doors of the castle's inner keep, her gray widow's gown flapping in the cool breeze, unadorned save for the sapphire brooch at her throat, a gift from Thorgrin on the Day of Seven Weddings.Her hair was bound in a simple coronet, strands escaping to frame a face set with determination.Lireal, her handmaiden, had pleaded with her to wear her fur cowl to keep off the autumnal chill, but she had shrugged off the suggestion.
Her mind was on far bigger and wide reaching concerns and she wasn’t even aware of the cool morning air.
Behind her, two dozen of the Shield Guard formed an iron wall, their captain, Sir Kellan, at her right, his broadsword half-drawn, eyes like flint scanning the mist-shrouded approach.
She had not slept.The hours since Guwayne's departure had been torturous.Doubts and recriminations vying for her attention.She had always found it far easier making decisions as a queen than as a mother, and now when she had to make a choice as both a mother and a queen she found the two factions in her head warring with each other.She had finally satisfied herself that the decision she had made was right for both, but there was a nagging fear that one day she would have to decide between the two.That filled her with dread.
Kellan had informed her that Guwayne had left as planned, heading toward the safety of an island stronghold, with a hand-picked band of comrades.He had told her that his last words were to tell his mother that he would see her soon, that the Ring will be safe in their joint hands.It was only later when she started to question who he had meant by “joint.”Live, my lion,she had whispered into the darkness of her room.And return to claim what is yours.
But dawn brought the serpents to her door.Horns sounded from the outer walls—low and mournful, signaling the approach of a noble host.Gwendolyn's lips thinned, her eyes fixed on the drawbridge as it groaned downward.The mist parted like a curtain drawn by reluctant hands, revealing the vanguard: a column of riders two hundred strong, banners snapping in the fitful breeze.Banners, she noted with distaste not of the Ring, but of the houses of the nobles in the entourage.
At their fore rode Lord Aldrich, resplendent in a velvet doublet of midnight blue slashed with gold, his sable cloak lined with ermine and clasped by a ruby brooch the size of a pigeon's egg.His face, pale and fox-sly beneath a neatly trimmed beard, bore the practiced smile of a diplomat, but his eyes—cold as winter forges—betrayed the predator beneath.Flanking him were Lord Holt, Lady Elowen, Garrick, and Varis.Their knights—hundreds more in the train, armor etched with house sigils—thronged the cobbles, a sea of iron and horseflesh that choked the avenue leading to the inner gates.
It looked like an invading army, and beneath the surface, she knew that that was what it was.It was just that there were different ways to mount an invasion.She had the feeling this one had begun years before under their very eyes.
Ostensibly, this was the Council of Protectors, convened in the wake of the king's tragic fall to deliberate the mending of the Shield and the realm's stewardship.Bards would sing of it as a gathering of unity, nobles riding to save a wounded kingdom.But Gwendolyn knew the truth, inked in the missive from Blackwood Keep: a noose disguised as a laurel wreath, woven to snare her son and throttle the MacGil line.Aldrich's host was no honor guard; it was an army in noble guise, lances couched and swords loose in scabbards, ready to claim the throne in a tide of blood.
The gates creaked open under Kellan's barked command, admitting the vanguard into the outer bailey.The common folk, roused by the horns, peered from windows and alleyways.
Gwendolyn stepped forward, her guard parting like a wave before her, their boots grinding on gravel in disciplined unison.She halted at the foot of the dais, chin lifted.
Aldrich reined in his destrier—a black stallion caparisoned in gold-threaded silk—a respectful distance away, though his knights fanned out to either side, hands hovering near hilts.He dismounted with fluid grace, boots striking stone like a judges gavel, and swept into a low bow, his cloak pooling like spilled ink."My queen," he intoned, voice smooth as oiled velvet."We come in grief and duty's name, to honor the fallen king and safeguard his legacy.The breaches gnaw at our borders; the people cry for guidance.May we enter, to council in the war chamber as proclaimed?"
His eyes flicked past her, scanning the shadowed arches of the keep, seeking the telltale glint of royal gold.Holt grunted from his saddle, quickly joined by Elowen, Garrick, and Varis.
Gwendolyn met Aldrich's gaze without flinching, her voice carrying clear and resonant, a clarion over the bailey's hush."Lord Aldrich, honored lords and ladies of the Council.Your presence swells our halls, though grief tempers our welcome.The Ring stands at a precipice, and I thank you for your...vigilance."She paused, letting the word hang.A mist that had entered with the procession swirled at her feet."Yet before we parley, a grave matter must be laid bare.My son, Prince Guwayne, heir to the throne of the Ring, has departed these walls under cover of night.For his safety, and the realm's, he rides forth on a quest to trace the Shield's fractures to their source—the northern wilds, where my lord husband met his end."
A murmur rippled through the host, knights exchanging glances, nobles stiffening in their saddles.Aldrich's smile faltered, a crack in porcelain, his eyes narrowing to slits."Departed?My queen, this is...unforeseen.The prince's youth ill suits such perils.Surely, in wisdom, he remains within, under your watchful eye?"
Gwendolyn's expression remained a mask of regal calm, though her heart thundered in her chest.It took all her inner strength to retain her composure in the face of someone who had come to not only rip the crown from her fingers but to kill her only son.“Guwayne goes with the gods' speed and the Ring's blessing—a quest echoing his father's own."She paused before continuing.She had decided on a strategy in the dark hours before dawn.When she had run it past Kellan, he had agreed.It would give them the upper hand, take the surprise away from Aldrich, and turn the tables."The prince you seek is gone, my lords.Though understand this.He flees not in cowardice, but to destiny's call."
The bailey fell into stunned silence.Gwendolyn could see Aldrich trying to maintain his composure as he realized his hand had been discovered.Holt barked a laugh, short and disbelieving."A whelp on a quest?With the Shield cracking like an eggshell?This smacks of folly, my queen—or deception."Elowen stepped forward, her voice a silken hiss."The people will not abide an empty throne.Where truly lies the heir?"
Gwendolyn drew a steadying breath.She stepped closer.“The throne does not sit empty, I am the Queen of the Ring.”Her voice was strong carrying over the heads of the nobles to the ranks of knights beyond, daring them to disagree."And hear me, lords of the Council.The Ring bleeds from breaches without and treachery within.Harm not its heart further.”
A silence settled over the gathering.Aldrich had managed to regain his composure and the self-satisfied smile once again sat on his face.He turned and signalled to someone out of view of Gwendolyn.Seconds later, a horn sounded.
The Shield Guards and those of the Silver shifted and Gwendolyn became aware of movement on the walls, as her guards spotted became aware of developments.Then came the low rumbling sound of an army on the move.
Gwendolyn immediately understood the situation.Even in their own backyard, they would be horribly outnumbered.She had to prevent an all-out battle in the streets of King's Court.She signalled for Kellan to remain still, and addressed Aldrich once more, her voice strong, steady, statesmanlike.
“I know you came here under the pretence of offering aid, but with the aim of taking my son and heir to the throne.”She didn’t wait to see if he bothered to refute her assertion.“I offer myself in his stead—to your custody.Bind me, question me, hold me in your keeps until the quest's truth unfolds.Let peace prevail this dawn; let the prince ride unmolested.For know this: the MacGil blood runs deep in the veins of the faithful.Strike at me, beloved queen and widow of your king, and you strike at the soul of the realm.The commons will rise, the Silver will avenge, and your protection will drown in the tide of their wrath."
Her words hung in the mist like a gauntlet thrown.The Shield Guard shifting imperceptibly, spears angling toward readiness.Kellan's hand tightened on his hilt, a low growl rumbling in his throat, but he held at her subtle gesture—a raised palm.
Garrick's knuckles whitened on his axe, testing its weight.Elowen leaned to whisper urgently in Aldrich's ear.
And the rumble of hooves and footsteps grew louder, grew closer.
Aldrich straightened, his smile widening, though twisted now, a serpent's leer.He paced a slow circle before her, boots crunching in the gravel, eyes raking the keep's facade as if peering through stone."A noble offer, my queen.Selfless, as befits the MacGil line.Yet words are but wind.You speak of your son’s departure.But our scouts saw no sign of him on the roads.Heard no echoes of hoofbeats in the dawn.The prince—fiery of blood, loyal to hearth—would not abandon his mother to vipers such as we."His voice dipped, oily with insinuation, pitched for his knights' ears."No, I wager he lingers still, hidden in some bolthole, dreaming of swords and thrones.You shield him, as a dam bars the flood.But floods break dams, do they not?"
Gwendolyn's pulse quickened.She had banked on their greed for spectacle, their fear of the mob's roar.To harm her openly would crown them pariahs, the people's fury a scythe through their ranks.But Aldrich saw deeper, or perhaps paranoia clouded his sight."Lord Aldrich," she said, "doubt if you must, but swear on your houses' honor: peace for the prince's path, and I yield without strife."
His laughter that rang out was cold."Honor?In these fractured days, is a beggar's coin.But you misunderstand our intentions, my lady.We mean the prince no harm.The opposite.We merely want to keep him safe in these troubled times."Behind him, the gates were filled with hundreds of men on horseback as the army reached the gates.
Kellen held his sword out in front of him.Gwendolyn knew he would be relishing the challenge of the fight, even though things had not gone as planned, and they were heavily outnumbered.
“Surely you can see he would be safer with us than somewhere so…vulnerable as here?”
