Chapter 11

Athelstan

He left his room and saw that the servants were agitated, there were people running from one side to the other in frenzy. Athelstan was forced to move to the side to avoid being run over by a servant who was holding a basket in her hands.

He had come back less than a day from hunting and already wanted to take his horse again and leave. He felt oppressed inside those walls. Surely the creator of all that chaos was his father, King Kyros was known for his misunderstanding and insensitivity to anyone outside himself. Surely his father at that moment was rattling orders everywhere, and certainly, sooner or later, he would have summoned him, and Athelstan had no desire to listen to what he had to say. He wanted to get as far away as possible before he sent someone for him.

The corridors were illuminated by the large windows on the side that faced out, the windows were open, and there was no curtain to adorn them, the king did not like the colors or decorations very much, not as his mother Queen liked, so most of the time, the fortress was bare.

The stained-glass windows were devoid of any royal coat of arms, this could only be glimpsed in some banners placed on the walls and towers of the city and on the armor of the soldiers.

Athelstan walked swiftly, moving away from the areas of the fortress where the royal quarters were, and went to the most remote part, the one where the servants stayed, beyond that, there were stables, and that was exactly his goal.

He walked with great strides, and his steps echoed in the wide corridors of stone, accompanying his lonely journey.

He passed the servants’ quarters and went out into one of the courtyards of the fortress. The space was empty and faced the bay, it was built over a part of the cliff of the promontory, from that height, had a beautiful view of the lagoon and could see the ships that began to leave the harbor, cutting the sea to go into the ocean.

On his left, in the flattest area, there were stables, he reached them with great strides.

The sun shone, and the rays reflected on the bay’s crystal-clear water. The air had a pleasant salty smell, but Athelstan lacked the smell of woods, mud, and wet grass. Sleeping under the starry sky and in the middle of nature was what he considered freedom. Staying away from that court and all its responsibilities might seem selfish to many, but not to him.

He stretched and turned to the stone steps. He quickly went down the steps, beyond the lower courtyard were the stables. He passed the courtyard and went inside towards his horse. A groom was taking care of it.

“I’ll do it” Athelstan told him. He liked to groom his horse, it made him feel less royal.

“Your Highness.” A servant entered the stable while he began to groom his mane. “The king is looking for you. He requires your presence immediately in the throne room. It is very urgent, he has...”.

“For my father, even a blister on the ass is urgent,” interrupted Athelstan. A servant chuckled and lowered his head. “I don’t have time to understand what mood it is. I have to go hunting.”

Athelstan took the saddle and put it on the back of his horse, making sure to tie it well.

“Your Highness... you have just returned, your father will be enraged if you do not go now.” Athelstan rolled his eyes, puffing.

“As for me, the king can also fu...”

“Athelstan!” A female voice scolded him before he could insult his father.

Athelstan turned and saw the queen enter the stables, her long red hair swaying with every movement. Her purple eyes looked at him with an air of reproach. Everyone in the stables laid a knee on the ground as a sign of reverence as she passed them and approached him.

The tail of the dress was grinding on the rotten ground of the stable, getting dirty, but Queen Reanna didn’t care. Her purple eyes were on her son, her hands joined in her womb while Athelstan, with a sigh, let his horse be, looking at his mother’s serene and sweet face. He thanked the Gods daily for looking more like her than his father.

“Your father is waiting for you. It is urgent.” His mother crossed her arms to her chest, and as she did so, the gems on the bodice of her dress shone with the rays filtering through the wooden doors of the stable. His mother smiled softly at the servant. “Let me, Robert. You can go.”

Athelstan turned his attention to his steed, caressing it slowly as the servants went out, leaving him alone with his mother. Queen Reanna approached him and observed him in silence. Athelstan could feel the Queen’s gaze pointed at his profile before the Queen spoke.

“You have just returned, and you already want to leave?” Athelstan smiled but did not speak. He put the bridle to his horse and pulled him out of the stable. “Your father is waiting for you,” she repeated, following him outside.

“Let him wait then.” the prince countered.

“Athelstan...” The prince turned and looked at her, the queen looked at him worried. “You cannot continue to flee from your duties, much less from your father. When the time comes, you must be ready to govern.” Reanna approached her son, caressing his cheek, her hands soft and warm. “We are hanging by a thin thread, at any moment, we may fall. Dark omens are approaching” she extended her hand. “Come, walk with me.”

Athelstan pushed the horse into the stable and elbowed the mother, who put her arm in it.

The queen was much shorter than him and petite, but she knew she could be much stronger than anyone, even the king himself.

They began to walk and came out of the stables. The sun’s rays hit him on the face, he entered the lower courtyard and approached the marble balcony. From there, they could see the entire bay and the open water outlet left by the two mountain ranges surrounding Waterfall, protecting it from any attack from Mihdel or the sea. The gate, built over the centuries, was positioned in the space at sea between the two chains and, at that time, had been lowered below water level so that ships could enter and exit the bay.

According to legend, that old iron gate that completely closed the bay during the night had been built by one of the first Neyer kings: those who still possessed magic. It was said that the old king had melted tons of iron, made the furnaces work for years before he could complete that gate, and finally sealed it with magic so that iron could not be worn by the salt of the ocean and time so that it would survive for thousands of years and protect the city from anyone. Athelstan did not know exactly what the city needed to be protected from, especially from the sea, but the first king was obsessed with it, so much so that he built two towers that served as beacons to the sea and use to spot any danger.

The towers had been built on top of each promontory, inside them were hidden commands to raise and lower the gate.

The lagoon’s waters were crystal clear, and the sun was reflected on the surface while the seagulls flew high in the sky and over the harbor, croaking loudly.

“Your father is worried, and so am I,” his mother began to say.

“The king is always worried,” Athelstan said ironically.

“This time he is right. Many lords on the border are not sending taxes to the crown, nor are they responding to calls from the council to the capital.” Athelstan shook his head.

“The king is not known for his friendliness and sympathy towards his own lords,” he snorted. “If the crown is in this situation, it is his fault. The lords do not trust a man who has hunted like a dog his oldest and most trusted advisor and the last of the elders. He pushed anyone away, fearing they would take that crown off his head.” Athelstan looked at the sea, the seagulls were flying over the water, restless as their croaking became more acute. His mother pulled him, and they went to the most hidden part of the courtyard.

“Your father is a severe man, but he is not evil”, said the queen with a sign of denial.

“No, of course. He is simply cruel.” From the doors, the servants kept coming in and out in a hurry, one almost fell down the stairs. “I challenge someone to trust a man who has not even participated of his daughter’s rites of passage to the other side for the soul. He didn’t even let all the celebrations take place.” Athelstan thought of the quick, little-heard funeral his sister had received.

When the accident happened, his father had only allowed one day of preparation. The priests had found themselves performing a ritual, which usually took long periods, in a short time, with the excuse that the body of Aislin had been found already after many days concerning death and that, in that case, it did not serve too much for the preparation.

In that way, Athelstan had found himself organizing a funeral rite whose access was forbidden to the inhabitants of Waterfall, who until the previous week were preparing to celebrate a wedding, and to anyone outside the city and kingdom.

King Kyros had not even allowed the Ackards to participate, and he himself had found an excuse not to be present.

He had granted permission to celebrate the rite in Geholm’s temple in the center of the city. Still, he had not allowed the bodies of the deceased to undergo the rite of passage of the soul to the arms of the mother, so the souls of the soldiers, the knight, and his sister herself, had remained in oblivion.

The celebrations predicted that the bodies would be burned on the sea and let go to the ocean so that the soul could be freed, but according to King Kyros, the bodies were already burned, so they had no need to burn them.

Athelstan recalled that many lords had been troubled by his father’s lack of respect for the gods, many had twisted their noses and turned their backs on the crown, invoking the misfortune that would soon befall the kingdom.

“What he has done is sacrilege, an affront to the gods and our traditions. Not even the cult wants to have relations with the crown.” Many lords departed from the crown after that event. “This is only the beginning of the punishment the gods have in store for him and for us.”

“Your father has no excuse, it’s true, and I don’t try to justify it.” His mother stopped and sat down on an elaborate marble slab. She clapped a hand on it, inviting him to sit down. “I am asking you to be more interested in the kingdom’s affairs so when the time comes, you will be ready.” Athelstan sat down and looked at her, confused.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, bending his head to the side. The queen looked around.

“Many lords do not want to support your father and do not want to be enslaved to the crown, but things would change if the crown were yours. Everyone can see the huge difference between you and the king, and if you wanted to take the crown before time, you would have the support to do so.” Athelstan looked at his mother in surprise, opening his eyes and mouth wide.

“You’re talking about betrayal, mother,” the prince said, looking around.

“It is not treason. Listen to me, Athelstan, you are the rightful heir to the throne, the crown will be yours anyway”, she said sure.

“To kill the king is treason in the eyes of the Gods! Doesn’t matter the right or all the other bullshit. It is a mortal sin, and our souls would suffer the consequences.” Athelstan realized that he had raised his voice slightly. He looked around to see if anyone had heard anything. But apparently, there was no one in the yard, people preferred to hide.

“I’m not talking about killing your father, my child.” Reanna laid a hand on his son’s cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb. She moved a strand of red hair behind his ear, fixed it, and looked him straight into his eyes.

“I would never allow such an act to take place, for your soul to be stained with such a crime, and then, despite everything, I love the king.” The queen smiled faintly, turning her gaze to the sky.

“Not as he loves himself,” Athelstan said cynically.

The Queen’s gaze grew darker. From as long as he could remember, Athelstan had always seen his mother suffer silently while his father enjoyed whatever bribes he was offered by lords or mercenaries, no matter what his wife might feel or the humiliation she was subjected to whenever it was rumored that the king had company in his chambers.

Despite everything, her mother always stood by his side and did everything for the kingdom and her children.

She had struggled to ensure that the younger sisters of Athelstan were not used as meat for the king’s purposes. He had fought for a kingdom that was not even hers own so that it could prosper and return to its ancient beginnings.

She had secured an alliance with Aeris, one in which Aislin would become queen and rule according to their mother’s teachings.

She had spent a lifetime fighting everything, but her strength had weakened after Aislin’s death, she had failed to protect her, she had failed to protect Nemis, and she had failed to save the kingdom from decay due to years of poor regency.

Athelstan could not remember even a moment when his father had demonstrated such fidelity and strength to protect what was his, to make it shine as any king would have it; he did not remember a single time when his father had shown the slightest affection for his sisters or for himself. Of course, life was easier for him because he was a man, the heir to Kyros’s throne, but his sisters had been nothing but pawns for Athelstan, bargaining mares for his purposes.

He was the heir, and his sisters were bargaining mares, or at least Nimis was. Sold to a border lord for a few extra taxes. She had reached an even more fruitful agreement with Aislin, but at least she was in good hands.

“I’m not talking about murder.” His mother turned him away from his thoughts. “I’m talking about giving him a little push to withdraw.”

“To force him to abdicate? Kyros would rather die than remove that crown from his head. I think it’s become one with him now,” Athelstan said.

“I know it takes time, but it is necessary. Ever since Aislin... Since that incident, we have no more relations with the West.” His mother’s voice trembled imperceptibly.

“He wanted it! Elhiàs would have continued the exchanges and the commerce between Locrand and Aeris anyway. He has decided! It is always him to decide! Because of him, the capital is alone without even the support of its lords.” Athelstan stood up and began to walk back and forth. “Not to mention how he chased out the queen of Elder without any motivation or rights.” A vise pervaded his chest as he thought about Taryn.

“We have no relationship with Haefest either.” Athelstan froze, looking at his mother.

Nathan Fannil.

“We will have no relationship with Haefest. Neither now nor ever,” he ruled.

He couldn’t forget his sister’s pain because of that coward Nathan. If he had seen him, he would have punched him.

“At the moment, the past, Athelstan, is not important, but only the present. Locrand is completely alone, and as long as your father sits on the throne, things will not change. Do you know what that means?” Athelstan closed his eyes and sat back down. He put his elbows on his knee and put his hands to his face.

“We are vulnerable. On the edge of a precipice.”

Without military support, no lords, and no alliance, Locrand would collapse at the slightest attack. If any other kingdom understood the situation Locrand was in, it would be the end for them.

“The continent has not seen war in two decades. It is the longest period of peace that our history has ever known, and I hope it will continue for a long time. That’s why we need alliances” his mother insisted.

“Are you talking about marriage?” Athelstan looked at the woman.

“There’s no choice, you know that, right?” she gently stroked the back of his neck.

“With whom, mother? Surely the Lords of Locrand will keep their daughters as far away as possible from King Kyros. Taryn Fahan would rather die than crawl back into my bed.” Athelstan rolled his eyes. “If Aislin were still alive, we would have an unbreakable alliance with Aeris, but it is impossible. I would marry Elhiàs, but I don’t think I’m his type.” His mother slapped him on the head as a sign of reproach.

“Elhiàs is still your friend, you grew up together. You could give it a try, I’m sure he would listen.” His mother looked him in the eye. “But only one king can promise something to another. No one trusts a prince’s promises. For this, you have to take the crown. I hate doing this behind your father’s back, but the kingdom is sinking, not because of a high tide. The king will never try to lift him up, he is too concerned to keep his pride high. But you can and will. I know you will be able to do great things. The only salvation for Locrand is you.” Athelstan was going to say something when he heard a great commotion.

He turned and saw people running out of the fortress to crowd on the balconies of the courtyard.