Seeker (The Source Chronicles Book 1) (51 page)

Chapter 39

They gathered on the Vann plains, southeast of Vanntir.  When the fighting was over, the ground had been churned muddy and littered with bodies.  Some, those of officers and nobility, were removed from the field to be buried.  Others were removed by family.  The rest, a frightfully large total of around twelve thousand, both Sharron and Medaelian, were piled up in quickly-dug foxholes. 

Priests from both nations, representing various beliefs, including the two most dominant of t’Thera, the Church of the Triad and the Society of The Source, were allowed to come say prayers.  Each in their own manner could send the souls of the deceased on their way to whatever afterlife or other plain of existence they believed the dead transcended to. 

The bodies were then piled with pitch and wood and other combustibles, and burned.  Pestilence had to be prevented. 

Considering the scale of the two opposing armies, the number of casualties could have been far higher.

Sir Tulock, along with the Lady Marna and Sir Garvol, had ridden to the field, leaving Lady Ara and Constable drey-Sharron in charge at the Palace.  The Seneschal had greeted his victorious King, who advised him of all he had planned for the coming weeks and months, the threat of Medaelia now dispelled for good.

The former Prime Minister of Medaelia, Lord Gelva Dova-Kumirr, had been presented to Varlock-Sharron by the Princess.  There, with shaking hands, he had presented the Crown of Medaelia to the King.  He was then turned over to Sir Tulock Oran, who would become the acting Prime Minister of Medaelia, in addition to his duties as Seneschal of Sharron.

Gelva Dova-Kumirr was released from his service, given a large pension, and returned to his family estate in the northeast of Medaelia.  Varlock-Sharron felt no need to punish the former leaders of Medaelia, for they had served Wilnar-Medira loyally, which he did not consider a fault.  Even General Grom-Valock, who was healing from his wounds, was spared his life, and ordered into exile.  This he accepted, for it was better than the death he’d been promised.

To the astonishment of most, Varlock-Sharron organized a state funeral for Aldo Wilnar-Medira.  He was paraded through the streets of Penkira, then buried in his family crypt.  Overseen by Colonel Von Pirvarn, who was currently in charge of things in Penkira, the nobility of Medaelia were ordered to the Vann plains, to swear allegiance to Varlock-Sharron. 

The Medaelian Army was broken, and none was willing to challenge the strength of a King as powerful as Varlock-Sharron had become.  Especially a King with a Sorcerer at his side, as the Medaelians soon discovered.

Meeting with the members of the Council present, Varlock-Sharron had been laying out plans for how to deal with his new acquisition.  An entire Kingdom took a lot of effort to run, and a large part of the Sharron Army had been dispatched, for the time being, to the eastern borders with Rannora and Nevarna.  Though neither likely would pose much of a threat, this was not the time to let them take advantage of the Medaelian situation.

A week and a half after the death of Wilnar-Medira, the nobility of Medaelia was present before Varlock-Sharron.  There, without incident, they pledged fealty to their new King, who promised there would be no retribution for support of Wilnar-Medira.  Rumors flew that preparations were in order to combine Sharron and Medaelia into one Kingdom.

Finally, the last people awaited by Varlock-Sharron, Speaker Erlonn Broyva and the Order of the Common, presented themselves on the Vann plain.  The King called an audience, and everyone of any rank, including the leadership of the Falcon Raiders, was invited to attend.

For the most part, Cam Murtallan had watched it all without comment.  He had happily greeted Lyrra-Sharron and the other Falcon Raiders upon their return, and they had traded stories of their battles. 

Cam, changed by his experiences of the last several months, had grossly understated his role in the border war.  Varlock-Sharron had corrected this, and the Falcon Raiders could not help but look at Cam with obvious awe.

It had been the most powerful spell Cam had ever cast, even greater than that which had cost him his powers for a time.  But with his newfound understanding of sorcery, Cam had controlled the output of his energy, and recovered with no injury other than the exhaustion any physical exertion on such a scale would leave behind.  Meditation and deep slumber found the Sorcerer recovered to his normal self.

All invited to attend court were gathered in a very large pavilion erected on the plain, where they milled about, awaiting Varlock-Sharron to begin.  A platform had been erected on one end of the tent, where the King would sit his throne.

Today was New Year’s Day.  It was the Spring Solstice, the start of the Season of Planting.  Throughout the world there would be celebrations of this day, as last night’s once annual eclipse of I’lunae by its larger sister moon, Aelunae, marked the passage between seasons. 

Knowing for the most part what would transpire today, Cam was struck by the appropriateness of the timing.  All part of the greater scheme of things, he did not question for an instant it was set in motion by unseen forces long, long ago.

“Do we know what the King wants?” asked Nadav, glancing towards the dais where his father currently stood, conferring with other aides to the Seneschal.

“Yes, for the most part,” replied Lyrra-Sharron. “He is going to dispel the rumors, and set the course that both Sharron and Medaelia will take over the next few years.”

“I have never sat through a court,” remarked Cam conversationally.

“Normally, I would be at my father’s side for this,” commented Lyrra-Sharron.  “But he asked me to sit amongst my officers.  He will call me up when the time comes, and publicly acknowledge that I remain his heir.  This is going to be a tremendously large nation for him to maintain, now.”

“Sharron and Medaelia as one?” queried Nadav.

“Something like that,” responded Lyrra-Sharron.  “Though the nations will retain separate administrations, apart from the Crown.  At least, that is the King’s plan.”

Sir Tulock appeared upon the stage at the front of the tent, and was presented his staff by Lord Norvil, which he proceeded to bang on a metal shield a half dozen times, getting the attention of the oddly mixed assembly.

“My lords and ladies…may I have your attention, please?  His Royal Majesty, Varlock-Sharron Anduin, King of Sharron and King of Medaelia, wishes to address all those assembled.  Please rise!  All hail Varlock-Sharron.  Long live the King!”

“Long live the King!  Long live the King!” responded the assembled crowd, rising to their feet.

Varlock-Sharron entered the pavilion.  All bowed before him, save Lyrra-Sharron and Cam.  He stepped up to the hastily constructed platform, and gestured to the assembled crowd.

“You may all be seated,” he said simply.

In no particular order, the various groups took seats.

“Thank you all for being here today,” began the King.  “Much has happened these past few weeks, and there are many questions for which you seek answers.  Though I keep my own counsel, I do wish to dispel many rumors, and close some business that must be dealt with.”

The assembly muttered quietly among themselves a moment, before the King raised a hand for silence.

“The first two orders of business are personal.  I would ask Speaker of the Common Erlonn Broyva to come forward.”

Speaker Broyva approached the throne.  He gestured to Sir Tulock, and knelt before the King.

“I am your servant, my liege,” he said.

“You have served me very well indeed.  I know you to be a simple man, an innkeeper from Anduin, named to the Common without much fanfare, then elevated to Speaker by unanimous acclaim.  None has ever been so popular.  At risk to your position, you did my bidding without question, serving both Common and Crown with unparalleled competence.  I promised you I would reward you for such service.”

Sir Tulock handed the King a scroll, which he unrolled and read from himself.  “For service far above and beyond that of the office of Speaker for the Common, to Common and Crown, do we, Varlock-Sharron Anduin, King of Sharron and King of Medaelia, raise Erlonn Broyva of Anduin to the ranks of the nobility.  From this time forth, he shall be known as Lord Erlonn Broyva, for none has better earned such a title, nor deserved to be recognized more.  He shall have all ranks and privileges afforded those of his state.  Done by our hand on the First day of Prisatuary of the new year five double-ought-five, before Council, Order of the Common, and nobility of Sharron and Medaelia.”

He handed the scroll back to Sir Tulock.  “You serve Sharron faithfully, Lord Erlonn.  I will ask a great task of you, and the Order of the Common as well.”  He stood, gesturing to the members of the Order.  “A body similar to the Common will be established for Medaelia.  I wish you to advise this new body, and help to organize and arrange them, in preparation for the Anduin rule of Medaelia.”

The members of the Order of the Common showed their assent, clearly pleased to be included in such.

“In addition, I feel the Common needs to be better kept abreast of matters of state,” continued the King.  “Therefore, once a month, I invite The Speaker of the Common to attend meetings of The Council, where he will be given a chance to voice the concerns of the people to the leadership of Sharron directly, and have voting privileges, representing the general populace of the kingdom.”

There was a mix of responses from the Order of the Common, each showing their clear pleasure at being given a louder, more direct voice.  It was unprecedented, and it would cement their loyalty to this King unlike any before him.

“Lord Erlonn, thank you for your continued service.”

Sir Tulock banged his staff.  “A cheer for the newest member of the nobility of Sharron, and the service of Lord Erlonn Broyva and the Order of the Common.  Hoo-zah!”

“Hoo-zah!  Hoo-zah!” echoed the assembly.  Applause and cheers followed.

Erlonn Broyva bowed deeply.  The King offered him a hand, and helped him up.  Varlock-Sharron stood and bowed his head to the Speaker of The Common, then shook his hand.  Newly ennobled Lord Erlonn Broyva returned to his seat.

“Sir Tulock,” the King gestured, retaking his seat.

“His Majesty wishes Lord Norvil Rivarr to present himself.”

Lord Norvil, a look of unsuspecting curiosity clearly on his face, approached the platform, kneeling before the King.

Nadav, seated beside Cam, leaned forward attentively.

“Lord Norvil, Sir Tulock has spoken often of your outstanding service.  You have served as a deputy to three Seneschals, now, and have always borne a quiet dignity, and served in your office with efficiency and skill for many years.”   He spoke up louder now.  “As you are aware, the Baron of House Tilroan, Fornon Val-Cara, was a traitor to the Crown.  For his actions, his title has been taken, and will not be passed on to his family.  They will remain on their property, and will keep some of their fortune, but all other privileges belonging to a Baronetcy have been removed from them.”

He looked to Lord Norvil again.  “Your family lands are in the Tilroan Barony.  Your father was of the nobility, and his father before him.  The family Rivarr has served crown and country well.  For your long service, and your unwavering loyalty, I hereby raise family Rivarr to the level of the higher nobility.  If you will swear fealty to me, I will name you the first Baron Rivarr.”

Shaking, Norvil Rivarr bowed at the waist to him, then straightened his back.  “I swear to you, Varlock-Sharron Anduin, my unswerving loyalty, as your humble servant, in whatever place you wish of me.  I serve you, and the Kingdom Sharron, and none other.”

Varlock-Sharron inclined his head, and Sir Tulock presented Baron Norvil Rivarr a scroll, a staff, and his crest, augmented by a coronet to show their elevated status.

Varlock-Sharron took his sword from his Captain-General of the Guardsmen, and tapped each shoulder of the new Baron.  “By the sword of the Crown of Sharron, I seal this man as a Baron of the Kingdom.”  He turned, and re-sheathed his blade.

The King offered a hand, and helped the still obviously stunned Norvil Rivarr to his feet.  “It is done.  Go forth, Baron Rivarr, and greet the other Barons of Sharron.”

Sir Tulock banged his staff twice upon the shield.  “For the newest Baron of the Kingdom of Sharron!  Hoo-zah!”

“Hoo-zah!  Hoo-zah!” cried the assembly. 

A cheer arose from the assembled Barons and Council, and Baron Rivarr stepped down, shaking hands with everyone before him, then moving through the other ten barons, before coming to his son.  Nadav had left Cam’s side and gone forward to congratulate his father. 

Cam could not hear what passed between them.  But after a moment, with obvious relief on his face, Norvil Rivarr took his son in his arms, and tears of joy at their reunion were shed.

Sir Tulock banged his staff to gain the attention of the assembled crowd.

“His Majesty will address those assembled once again,” stated Sir Tulock loudly.

Varlock-Sharron arose, and walked the lip of the platform.  “There has been much talk of my new rule of Medaelia.  Many rumors, many speculations.  I want to lay these to rest, and take care of several matters.”

He paused for effect, then began.  “My first decree as King of Medaelia, is the release of the Province of Anar.  The land will be returned to the people, and again become Anaria.  Until such time as a government is put in place, or a King or Queen is chosen, Anaria will be protected by the Crown of Sharron and the Crown of Medaelia.”