Two Kingdoms 10: Entr'acte

[DoctorM]

TWO KINGDOMS 10: ENTR'ACTE

Author's Note: This is the eighth part of an AU construction about a very different post-1120 Gwynedd where the coronation challenge at Kelson's coronation went rather differently--- very differently. There are characters and background here that go back to some stories in very, very early issues of Deryni Archives and to my own much younger days.  This segment falls after "Departures" but some years prior to "Arrows and Glass". As always, input and comments are very much appreciated.

*****

She watches her lannerets soar and stoop through deep golden light. The season is ending, and her time at Rhemuth is ending with it. She's been far too aware of that. The Queen is spending her mornings on horseback out beyond the city, ringed by her guards, hawk upon her glove. The sun has left a spray of freckles across her face, and her unbound hair is turning white-gold. These are the last days before her birds are shipped off north to Valoret, the last days she'll be able to ride along the river and launch her hawks into southern skies.

The Shadow Queen strides through the hallways up to her private workroom, trailed by her Moorish guards. Late summer sunlight falls all through the shell of Rhemuth Castle, through emptied rooms and onto bare walls. All along the corridor, officials with portfolios and message cases bow and try to catch her eye.

Her women are waiting there outside her workroom, the six figures mostly trying to avoid the queen's eye. Her women are usually addressed collectively as les chiennes or les salopes, but they are hers, and she's responsible for them. Domestic problems are the last thing she needs right now, but of course— of course —right now is exactly when domestic problems are going to appear.

The six of them all look painfully young. They're younger daughters, mostly. Their fathers and families had sent them to the Shadow Queen in hopes of royal favor, but  they'd kept back older and more marriageable girls just in case the new regime turned out to be less than permanent.

Well, Duke Lionel had worked his way through all six over the last few months. Not unexpected, Charissa thinks. Lionel was nothing if not thorough. Her ladies-in-waiting had fallen all over themselves every time Arjenol smiled at them. And now two of them were showing belated signs of heartbreak.

A third had consoled herself post-Lionel with the Duke of Marley, the queen's captain-general, and the girl was now doubly heartbroken— Marley had moved on, and probably forgotten the girl's name as soon as someone new crossed his path. Charissa knows what's coming. Marley's duchess was all-too-likely to show up in anger and make a public show of how Bran Coris had humiliated her again. She disliked Richenda of Marley— Marley's wife was openly pro-Haldane. A prude, too. And given to parading Bran's relentless infidelities for sympathy. But there's an unpleasant interview in the Shadow Queen's future, and she'll have to listen and at least pretend to care about Richenda's sorrows.

At least none of les chiennes has fallen pregnant. She'd given them her usual speech for incoming ladies-in-waiting when they arrived, and told them to take it to heart: There are only three things for you to remember. In this household we drink only the good wine. Nobody talks back to the queen. Don't get pregnant. Well, so far they'd kept those things in mind. But she'll still have to deal with them sighing and sobbing until the court leaves Rhemuth.

Charissa sweeps into the workroom and gestures for wine. She waves the officials away: You lot—- out! . At the moment she's not pleased with Rhemuth officialdom. Her Master of Horses and Hounds had sent her a message asking if he was authorized to put down every animal in the palace stables and kennels not presently designated to be shipped north to Valoret. She'd gone into a cold rage over that, told Horses & Hounds that if he ever asked something like that again she'd have him nailed up to the stable doors. She's probably serious about that—- probably.

Kheldour is there at the big worktable, and he rises to acknowledge her. They kiss and she drops into a chair. Kheldour— she has to keep remembering to call him that. He's been Christian de Falkenberg to her all his life, and on their wedding day she'd made him Prince of Kheldour. Not that Charissa's regime holds much yet in Kheldish country, but Christian was northern born, and she likes the idea of giving him a title in the north country. He was Queen's Remembrancer, too, with a remit to put the lords and other servants of the Queen in remembrance of such things as were to be called upon and dealt with for the benefit of the Crown. Queen's advisor, with a general authority to inspect in both the Chancery and the Exchequer.

Servants appear, bringing cups of pale, stony wine from the Fianna hills. Charissa leans back. Something pushes up against the queen's leg. She looks down. There are four little glove beagles tumbling under the chair. She picks one up and puts him on the table. The dog looks at her with soft eyes, and she scratches behind its ears.  "Don't get comfortable," Charissa tells him. "You'll be sailing north soon enough. New castle, new places to play."

Kheldour lifts a sheaf of papers. "You'll like these," he says. "They're sermons."

Charissa stares at him and tries not to laugh. She and the Church have barely been on speaking terms since she was a girl.

"They're being circulated all over east Gwynedd," Christian says. "Copies nailed up on church doors, monks reading them at market crosses. This one's good— good copyist and good hand, anyway. Let's see— The Call of the Trumpet Against the Monstrous Iniquities and Tyranny of the Witch Queen.  You can probably guess at the text: Scarlet Woman, debauchery, regime swimming in blood, Satan's harlot. Does that make me Satan?"

"None of these in the city yet?"

"Not so far. Out east. But getting closer. They're being done in monasteries in Corwyn country.  That one's signed, by the way—-  Duncan McLain. Monsignor. The Haldane boy's confessor, I think."

Charissa turns the name over in her head. "McLain—- Kierney affinity. That whole Cassan-Kierney circle. I know who he is. What kind of witch am I supposed to be?"

Christian raises his wine cup to her. "The ordinary kind. Consorting with demons— that might even mean me. I'm not sure he actually says you bathe in virgins' blood to stay young, but it's probably implied.  And, no, he never says Deryni. Of course he doesn't. He has a fine line to walk."

The queen shrugs. "Well, he doesn't have to say the word. Everybody knows what I am. He just doesn't want anybody saying it about him."

"I'll mention that to your intelligencers. We have our own scribes, after all."

"Tell them to write about Denis bloody Arilan, too. Let's see if we can get some use out of the publicists I'm paying."

***

From the window the queen can see plumes of dust rising up along the main avenue leading to the city gates. There's the sound of hammering and stone crashing.  Christian's people at work— miners he's brought down from the stannaries along the Northarch coast. She turns back to him and hands him a beagle.  He strokes it and looks out at the dust plumes. The queen tilts her head. "I suppose I could ask exactly what you're doing," she says.

Christian cradles the little beagle. "We're taking down the big houses," he says. "Both sides of the high street from the gates to the castle. Those are all townhouses for earls and the richer lords. When Kelson Haldane rides back in, I want him riding past broken stone. Anybody cheers, they're standing in ruins to do it. I want his lords going begging for beds. I want him walking into an empty castle."

Charissa shrugs. "Well, if they're paying to rebuild, they're not paying men-at-arms. That's something." She grins at him. "But no sappers at the castle. I'm damned if I'm living in a building that's being undermined while I'm sleeping."

"Rhemuth Castle's on solid rock," he says. "The cathedral, too. You'd need months to tunnel through.  Anyway, I like the idea of Kelson Haldane coming back to an empty castle.  It's a good thought, him standing there in a ghost building. Maybe he gets to sleep on the floor for  a few nights."

"I've told Colforth— we're not burning this when we leave. If Corwyn and Nigel can't control their men once they're back into the city, well and good. They shouldn't have hired so many mercenaries out of Howicce and the Orsal country. But I'm not the one burning Rhemuth again."

"Not the castle," Christian says. "The docks and the warehouses are another story."

"Let's not let the citizens find you in the streets."

"Nobody in Rhemuth knows what I look like. I'm just a name. Half of them think Marley is me." 

Charissa laughs. "Now there's an image that makes my skin crawl. Marley's a good soldier, he's a good captain-general. But dear God, I'm not up to imagining him as you."

"I don't mind the Haldanes thinking I'm the Devil. At least I'd still be a prince. Never wanted to be Bran Coris, though."

She trails two long fingers across his cheek. "So you wouldn't want Richenda?"

"I'd have to listen to her complain. And she's not tall enough. I'm used to looking up at you."

Charissa scoops another beagle from the floor. She looks out the window at the dust plumes. "I'm as tall as Alaric bloody Morgan. I want to look him in the eye when we fight him.  I want him to know I'm not afraid of him. Or the Haldane boy."

Christian is next to her, the little dog still in his arms. "I've never seen you afraid. Not since your father died. But you still have to leave before the Haldanes lay siege to the city.  You have years to stare him down."

The Shadow Queen looks down into the courtyard. A troop of Tolan Horse are assembling to go down to the docks. She watches them check saddle girths and take slender lances from servants. "How many are we leaving to stand siege?"

Christian watches the horsemen mount. "Not many. They just have to hold the walls long enough to make Nigel and Morgan have to break in. The city's going to have riots and risings. We'll get our people out before the Haldanes can close the river. It'll be Corwyn and Carthmoor who actually do the damage. That matters—- that the locals know who. And the diplomats, too."

Charissa sighs.  "It's the waiting that's hard. Waiting and picking the right moment to leave. Les chiennes—- they're starting to get scared. So are the outlying garrisons. I'll take your word for when, but I wish we could just fight or go.  It's the waiting I hate."

[Jerusha]

Another fine installment.  Richenda complaining to the Shadow Queen of Bran's infidelities is interesting.  As a Haldane supporter, it is also interesting that she is still alive.  I look forward to more!

[DoctorM]

Jerusha--- thanks!

I think that as the wife of the Shadow Queen's captain-general, Richenda has a certain amount of protection. However badly Bran and Richenda's marriage works, she is his wife, and anything done against her would reflect on him. Also, in a medieval world, Richenda's opinions would not be taken seriously unless she was actively involved in some sort of plot. And I suspect that there are a fair number of Gwynedd nobility who are willing to serve the new regime because of practical reasons (land, titles, careers) while having their own personal opinions.

[Laurna]

An interesting story Doctor M. I like that you included Richenda. I believe she would be outwardly loyal to her husband. She has no stance in this UA world if she pushed forth her own feelings for the Haldane Regime. Bran is the father of her son. She would disagree with Bran and might even try to teach her son differently, but she has no backing to go against her husband.  She would not even have meet Alaric as the hunter; that scene in Dhassa would never have happened.

It shall be interesting to see how the queen leaves Rhemuth.

[DoctorM]

Laurna--- exactly. And she has a son whose future as Duke of Marley and Eastmarch would be ruined if she did more than just talk. Whatever she thinks of her husband, or of the Shadow Queen, she has a responsibility to her child and his future. She can complain about Bran's other women, and she can make it clear that she dislikes Charissa and the new regime, but she can't take the risk of doing anything concrete.

And in this AU, she hasn't met Alaric Morgan at all.

I think when Charissa leaves Rhemuth, there'll be drama. Which she probably looks forward to.

[DerynifanK]

Your writing is intriguing although I have to say I really dislike your heroine. But you keep me coming back to see what comes next. Anxious to see the drama that will occur when Charissa leaves Rhemuth. I remember one of the other stories where Marek was intercepted in an escape attempt. The remark was that one should be careful not to alienate those one wishes to rule. It will come back to bite you. I have to say I hope her actions come back to bite her.

[DoctorM]

I think the next issue will be about the withdrawal from Rhemuth. And there should be drama. Maybe a lot of it.

[DerynifanK]

Really anticipating it. You do keep me anxious for your next installment. THe hallmark of a good writer.

[DoctorM]

Thank you! Very much appreciated.

[drakensis]

Somehow it seems like this isn't shaping up to be anything quickly resolved.

Charissa has Valoret and is giving up Rhemuth which suggests the Haldanes not only hold the southern regions of Gwynedd but are pushing north (not unreasonably since Nigel and Morgan rule the two southern duchies). However, she also does not control Claibourne or Cassan, the two northern duchies which are presumably still loyal to Kelson. Ewan may not be fond of Morgan but between him and Charissa...

It's not clear what's happening across the border but it seems likely that she's being squeezed between two forces.

I get the distinct impression that this will end with Kelson back in control, Gwynedd ravaged... and more anti-Deryni pogroms no matter what Kelson may wish for.

But Charissa has her revenge and that's what matters to her.

[DoctorM]

I'd say that she's building a new kingdom in north-central Gwynedd and the northeast, with its capital at Valoret. She and Lionel are engaged in fomenting rebellion against Wencit, with Arjenol,  Tolan, and the Netterhavens in Lorsol and Jandrich as the centers. But...we'll see.

You do have a point about anti-Deryni movements. There's still de Grey's movement in Corwyn, though anti-Deryni movements in the lower and middle classes may well move into being movements against landlords...

[DerynifanK]

I really hope that drakensis vision for the outcome, specifically a rise in anti-deryni porgrams will not happen but I can see how it could. Charissa may be overreaching in trying to take on Kelson and Wencit at the same time. She may be biting off more than she can chew, a lot more. We know that Wencit is both powerful and ruthless.
Two ruthless cousins fighting out. That could be devastating for the lands involved.

[DoctorM]

I have foreseen chaos in a lot of areas---  Gwynedd in my 1120/21 is a fragile thing: lots of individuals and factions seeing opportunities to get whatever they want.   

[DerynifanK]

I  had a thought. What if spies in rhemuth let Kelson and Nigel and their faction know what is happening in Rhemuth and at least some of Charissa's plans. What if Haldane men manage to influtrated the castle before she can leave. Could be an interesting twist. She may still get away but it may cost her more dearly. Or you may have another plan for what happens at that point. You've just got me thinking about possibilities, another hallmark of a good writer.

[DoctorM]

Well...hmmm...let's see what happens. Though I suspect she's waited a long time to use that stiletto she keeps in her sleeve.