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Fall From Grace - Part 3 - Kelric

Started by Jerusha, November 22, 2012, 08:16:27 AM

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Jerusha

Part 3 – Kelric

Archbishop Duncan McLain looked up from his folded hands at the sharp knock on the door.  He sensed who it was and began to rise from his knees as the door opened.

The face was all too familiar.  Golden hair cropped to a few short inches, grey eyes in an oval shaped face, wide mouth above a squared-off chin.  The sideburns were only moderately long, though, and there was a silky blond moustache above the mouth.

"Kelric!"  Duncan strode forward and barely allowed the younger man to finish a respectful bow before embracing him.

"Careful! " Kelric Alain Morgan returned the embrace.  "I got most of the mud off, but the roads are terrible right now."  He straightened and stood several inches taller than the man who was more a beloved uncle than a cousin.  "The Council needs to allow us to build more Transfer Portals. "

"Complain to Denis Arilan," Duncan replied.

Kelric snorted.  "A lot of good that will do."  Bishop Denis Arilan was now one of the co-adjutants of the Camberian Council, and sparks flew when he and the elder Morgan crossed paths.  "I don't see why they can't be a little flexible about the construction of a few more strategically placed Portals."

"You sound like your father."  With one arm still around the shoulders of Morgan's son and heir, Duncan steered him toward the bed.  "Did you ride straight in from Lendour?"

"I left within the hour of receiving Mother's message.  Brendan may be here tomorrow, the next day at the latest."

Duncan gave Kelric a sharp look.  "That's pretty fast travelling all the way from Marley."

"Mother's message was clear that we should get here as soon as possible."  Kelric sat wearily in the chair beside the bed, looking closely at his father and feeling his stomach churn as he realized how grave the situation was.

"Did you stop to see your mother and sister?"

Kelric nodded.  "Mother's scared, Uncle Duncan, in a way I've never seen before. "

"It's hard to prepare yourself for something like this; hard to not lose hope."

"I know I'm not prepared.  I don't want this.  Not yet."  Kelric reached forward and gripped his father's damp hand.  The hand that had helped him grip his first practice sword.  His father's hand had seemed so much larger then, engulfing his smaller one.

Duncan squeezed the young man's shoulder.  Kelric had turned eighteen this past summer and would be knighted at Twelfth Night court.  Alaric wanted him knighted by the king, but Kelric preferred to have the accolade bestowed by his father.  Duncan didn't know if the discussion had been settled yet; he hoped it would not be settled for them.  He squeezed Kelric's shoulder once more and then turned to leave.

Kelric heard the door close as Duncan left.  The last rays of the afternoon's sunlight filtered dimly through the leaded glass of the window, casting his shadow across his father's still form on the bed.  The irony of it did not escape him.  He had been in his father's shadow most of his life; was now the time he would finally step out of it?

The thought chilled him.  Alaric Morgan had already been duke for four years when he had been knighted.  He had campaigned with King Brion and survived the battle with the Marluk, defended the young King Kelson as Champion, and successfully defended Gwynedd against the Mearan pretender.  The list went on. 

Kelric sighed and let his thoughts continue to ramble on their own course.  He was as able a swordsman as his father, maybe better.  He had assumed responsibility for Lendour when he had come of age and both his county and his father seemed satisfied; at least no one had revolted yet.  One day he would rule Corwyn.   But he was certainly not yet the statesman his father had become, and he remained untested in battle.  He could and would become Duke, but could he ever assume his father's role as a King's Champion?

He suddenly realized how quiet the room had become and tensed as he feared his father was gone.  He relaxed when his father moaned softly and tried to pull his hand away from his son's. 

"Stay, Father," Kelric said softly.  "Please stay."

The last rays of sunlight turned red-gold as the cathedral bells began to toll Vespers.

***

"What are you smirking at?"  Morgan looked askance at the dragon that had turned its head back to face him after examining one neatly folded wing.  He released the hilt of his sword and wiped the sweaty palm of his hand on the front of his tunic.

"Smirk?"  The dragon looked affronted.  "A dragon does not smirk.  I do, however, roar."  The dragon rose backwards, arching its back as if to take a deep breath....

"Never mind!"  Morgan hastily raised his arm with his hand palm outward to ward off whatever was about to transpire.  "I'll trust your word on that matter," he said and then wondered if a dragon's word could be trusted.  Or if the concept even existed for a dragon.

"Very well."  The dragon settled down into a half-crouched position.  "Tell me, Champion, how are your affairs?"

"My what?"  Morgan's hand reached back towards the hilt of his sword. 

The dragon raised one bony eye-socket, looking amused.  "Your ducal affairs, your plans for succession.  Unless there is something different you would care to expound on."

"I think not.  And that, friend dragon, is a smirk."

"Do not take me to be a friend, Champion."

"You need have no fear on that account, nor do you need to have any concern for my affairs."

The dragon settled farther down onto the warm, dry earth.  "Have you no concerns for the Corwyn succession?"

"No, I do not.  I have done all I can to prepare Kelric to succeed me as duke," Morgan said, suddenly feeling the need to sit down.  There was a boulder just a pace off to his right; he moved over and sat.  The rock was warm and uncomfortable.    He pushed damp strands of blond hair back from his forehead, hoping for a cooling breeze.  The air remained still.

"A little warm?" the dragon asked.  "Like the last time you sparred with Kelric?"

Morgan snorted.   He remembered the last time he had crossed swords in training with his son.  They had challenged each other for close to an hour, neither one willing to give ground and not quite able to gain the upper hand.  "I wasn't this warm, though I gave the boy a good workout."

"Boy? He's eighteen."

"Aye, he's a man, and he worked me as hard as I worked him," Morgan conceded.  There was pride in his voice and a touch of sadness.  "There's not much more I can teach him."

"You think not?" The dragon turned the great head to look Morgan directly in the eye.  "You think he's ready to take your place as advisor and Champion to King Kelson?"

Morgan pursed his lips and shook his head slowly.  "No, not yet.  I've done what I can to prepare him, but times are different now.  We've been at peace for years; some opportunities just haven't been there."

"But when the opportunity was there, you kept him back."  The dragon's gaze remained fixed on Morgan.

"I could not risk him.  If I did not succeed, Gwynedd would need him more than I did."  Morgan held the dragon's steady gaze. "Prince Javan will need him as friend and advisor.  He'll be Javan's Champion when the time comes."

"And who will take your place until then?" the dragon asked.

"There are others," Morgan replied.  "Dhugal or Rory could serve, or Angus McEwan." Morgan looked thoughtful, suddenly not quite so sure of his choices.  "They are mostly away from Rhemuth, though Dhugal is at court as often as his duties allow.  It would be difficult for Prince Rory, as Viceroy in Meara.  Duke Graham is depending on Angus more and more in Claibourne...."

"You would have Kelric step into the role untried when Prince Javan needs him?"  The dragon looked skeptical.

Morgan crossed his arms across his chest.  "Kelric won't necessarily be untried by then," he scowled.  "There may be some opportunities at hand."

"Perhaps your affairs are not as well-ordered as you thought, Champion.  You should use what time you have left wisely."


Part 4 can be found at: https://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,982.0.html

From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggity beasties and things that go bump in the night...good Lord deliver us!

 -- Old English Litany

Evie

"Unless there is something else you care to expand on."

LOL!  "I think not....Have you seen my wife? " ;)
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

Alkari

QuoteMorgan pursed his lips and shook his head slowly.  "No, not yet.  I've done what I can to prepare him, but times are different now.  We've been at peace for years; some opportunities just haven't been there."

"But when the opportunity was there, you kept him back."  The dragon's gaze remained fixed on Morgan.

"I could not risk him.  If I did not succeed, Gwynedd would need him more than I did."  Morgan held the dragon's steady gaze. "Prince Javan will need him as friend and advisor.  He'll be Javan's Champion when the time comes." 
Oooh - this sounds intriguing!    Nice to meet the almost-grown up Kelric.   

AnnieUK

Wasn't sure about the first chapter (didn't like to think of Alaric and Duncan falling out to the extent that they wouldn't talk for ages), you had me at the second, and blow me, don't I just love this one.

Poor Kelric. His father surely does cast a long shadow, doesn't he?

It would haunt Duncan if Alaric died without them reconciling, so that *needs* sorting. And where is Kelson when he's needed? Get the king to knock their heads together and make them see sense! Are we going to see Kelson at Alaric's bedside? Kelson would feel his loss as much as anyone I think.

Love the dragon metaphor, too.

Next bit, please (says she who has just taken months to write a chapter LOL!)

Jerusha

Quote from: AnnieUK on November 27, 2012, 08:23:36 AM

It would haunt Duncan if Alaric died without them reconciling, so that *needs* sorting. And where is Kelson when he's needed? Get the king to knock their heads together and make them see sense! Are we going to see Kelson at Alaric's bedside? Kelson would feel his loss as much as anyone I think.


Your questions will all be answered, Annie, in due time.    :)  I hope you continue to enjoy this.
From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggity beasties and things that go bump in the night...good Lord deliver us!

 -- Old English Litany