Two Kingdoms 18: Plaza

[DoctorM]

TWO KINGDOMS 18: PLAZA

Author's Note: This is the eighteenth  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. This segment falls I think a bit after "Coins"  As always, input and comments are very much appreciated.

****

Charissa comes down the main stairs, her retinue forming behind her.  She pulls on her gloves and motions Christian in beside her. They reach the ground floor and her guards form up around her in a steel ring. Yusuf al-Fayturi and three of his men take up positions close in, and Brennan de Colforth and half a dozen Tolan Guard move in as the outer shield.  They're in chain mail, Colforth's men in scarves with the royal colours, the Moors with fidai sashes in deep scarlet across their chests.

The great doors of the archbishop's palace swing outward, and winter air rushes in. Charissa's face is like glass, the sapphire eyes fixed on the ranked soldiers lining the path across the plaza. Out on the palace steps, two figures come from either side and take their places. There's the sound of bagpipes— two pipers, one from ducal Tolan, the other from the Marluk lands. The pipes shriek and skirl— a Mac Tadhg march from her father's old lands. The pipers move down the steps at a slow pace and out onto the plaza.  Colforth holds up a hand and motions the royal party forward.

The Shadow Queen takes the palace steps two at a time. Her retinue steps out with her onto relentlessly-polished flagstones.

There's a hint of snow in the air over Valoret, here in an early winter.  She loves the feel of it, the delicate touch of snowflakes on her face. She's in winter white and dove-grey this morning, a silk-lined quilted khalat robe from somewhere out east-of-east, the high-collared robe worn over shirt and hose and boots. No crown this morning, and she's shrugged away the heavy ermine-collared cloak her women have tried to force her into.  Charissa looks up at the slate-grey sky over the city. Out on the square she can hear the sound of the pipes, and inside her head she can hear her sister's ghost.

It's not cold, she tells Clarissa's ghost. This is nothing for a Tolan girl.

Oh, no, her twin says, this is everything for a Tolan girl.

She has to grin at that. Clarissa's ghost is always right about these things.

This isn't a coronation, Christian had said to her that morning in her robing chamber. This is all informal. Not a coronation, not some investiture. You're already a queen. You don't need to prove anything at Valoret. Her husband had rested his hands on her hipbones under the khalat and looked up into her eyes. This is all just a procedural announcement. It's just bureaucratic housekeeping.

Christian knows everything worth knowing about history, she thinks, but it was Clarissa's ghost who was right.  Nothing the Shadow Queen did could ever be simply informal. She knows that, knows the truth of it in her bones. There was always something to prove in everything she did. Always.

She comes down onto the plaza and looks round. Brennan de Colforth turns and nods at the Queen. He raises a hand again and signals to the royal party . There are banners lining the plaza, and blocks of men-at-arms formed behind them— Tolan Guard and Tolan Horse, Marluk Horse and Kulnán Horse. Christian's Falcon Horse in black-and-gold scarves,  his Gordon cousins with with their green-black-blue chequer. At the end of the plaza by the platform Charissa can see the red sashes of the Queen's Moors and the silent grey line of Aurelian's Slayers.  Down there on the platform, royal Festillic banners ripple in the wind.

Charissa strides long down the plaza. Christian is next to her and a half-step back. He's in his own khalat, all in black, a desert scarf in House Falkenberg's black-and-gold around his neck, his kinzhal belted on. She can see al-Fayturi just to Christian's right, all in chain mail. The royal party moves past the first block of men-at-arms and Colforth flicks his eyes at the  men of Tolan Guard in their ranks. He puts a hand on his sword hilt and cries out, "Tolan! Festil!" 

From every throat there in the ranks there's a response: "Tolan! Festil! Tolan! Festil!"

She walks on, past one set of banners and men-at-arms and on to another. She can see blades being flourished over men's heads. Tolan! Festil!

Down by the platform she can see knots of colour— the Lord Mayor of Valoret and his assembled councillors and aldermen, then the diplomats, the envoys that have been trickling in to the city. She can sense it from here— this is all too martial for them, too alien. And see can sense the whispers, too, sense them looking at her in dismay.

****

There's a flat white slash across the Shadow Queen's face, from the bridge of her nose down all along her cheekbone. The brush moves along the scar, layering the colour. Here in her robing chamber, Charissa is being remade into her own myth.

The girl Kenna is kneeling by the Queen's chair, the tray of face paints and brushes there on a stool. She's already done the Shadow Queen's lips in a rich red, and now she's frozen with the fine-tipped brush in her hand. She looks at the scar across the Queen's nose and cheek. "Your Grace...are you certain? They'll all be staring at it."

Charissa looks down at her. "I want them to stare," she says. "I got the scar fighting for a crown. I'm proud of it. Let's let them all know what they're dealing with."

She jerks her head towards Christian over on her other side. "And anyway— that one thinks it's my look."

Christian runs a finger through her blonde hair. It's been cut short, cut just above her shoulders. "Oh, that's very, very much your look," he says.

The Shadow Queen grins. She gestures at Kenna. "Do it. Make it fashion." Charissa closes her eyes and holds her head immobile. The narrow brush traces from nose to cheekbone across the left side of her face. She can feel the layers of colour building up.

"Your Grace." Kenna says. She's holding up a mirror in Beldour glass. The Queen tilts her head and touches a finger to the edge of her cheekbone.

"There we are," Charissa says. She brushes the backs of two fingers along Kenna's cheek. The girl looks up at her with smitten eyes. "Merci. Now go. I want you on the platform. You're taking lead with my ladies when we're done."

The girl is staring at the Queen's face. "Your Grace...you're so brave. You're amazing." She rises and fades towards the door. She can't bring herself to look back.

The Queen looks round her little robing chamber at the press of ladies-in-waiting and  palace staff. "You lot— out! Kheldour stays."

The door closes behind the last of her servants and Charissa unfolds herself from the chair. Christian is in front of her. He reaches up and twitches at the high collar of her robe.

Charissa looks down at him. "Am I scary enough?"

Her husband grins. "Well, I'm terrified of you."

"No," she says. "You're not. You ought to be, but you're not." 

Christian brushes her hair back. "All very Eastern. You're going to shock all the diplomats and the city council. You're absolutely breathtaking, but you will shock them."

"I wanted to wear a kinzhal with this," she says. "I thought about chain mail, too. I like shocking them. Garconne style and being taller than any of that lot out there. This should do it, though. This and  showing off the scar."

"There's a line," Christian says. "You have to be shocking enough to keep them off balance, but not so much that they don't take you seriously."

"I know. But I do envy you the kinzhal."

"We'll do it when Marley's back in town. Wear one when you bring him in for an audience. We'll give your captain-general something to think about. See how he likes reporting in to a girl with a blade."

The chamber door opens. A young officer in Tolan colours  salutes. "Lord Colforth says whenever you're ready, Your Grace."

Charissa nods at him. "We're ready," she says. She looks over at Christian. "Let's go shock the diplomatic corps."

****

At the end of the plaza she takes the Slayers' salute. Aurelian bows to her and she grins at him. The city officials and the foreign envoys are standing cap in hand, trying to guess how to respond. Charissa looks over at them and keeps herself from laughing.

Up on the platform men from the Queen's Moors bring up their blades in salute. The Queen goes up the stairs, Christian and the others trailing behind. She takes two long steps to the platform rail and stands to attention. Yusuf al-Fayturi is behind her, Christian next to him. Charissa draws herself up to her full height— all five foot thirteen of you, Christian would say — and looks out at her soldiers. The cheers fall silent and she draws in a breath, In her mind's eye, she can see Clarissa's ghost watching her.

"We are House Festil," Charissa begins. "We are House Festil, and this is the Kingdom of Tolan and the West.  This is Valoret, and from today, Valoret is the royal capital of Tolan and the West."

The Lord Mayor and the City corporation are staring blankly at one another.  The diplomats are trying to sort this out. What about Rhemuth? What about being Queen of Gwynedd?

Charissa goes on. "This is my kingdom, this is my city and my capital.  We are House Festil. There is no challenge to which we do not rise. What we have, we hold."

The cheering begins again. Tolan! Festil!

"We are House Festil," she says again. Her voice carries out across the plaza, crisp and clear. She'd been taught to do that just as Christian had been taught to draw a bow and read maps. This is what you learn in childhood. C'est mon metier, she thinks.  Je suis la reine, c'est mon metier.

"We are House Festil, and this is a Festillic kingdom.  All my subjects— Deryni or not, Christian or Moor or Jew, Western Church or Eastern —will have my protection. Those who are loyal to me and to this House will have my loyalty in return. And all those who stand against us will fall. Know that— in Rhemuth, in Coroth, in Beldour: those who stand against us-- fall! What I have, I hold. My House, my kingdom, my city! My Valoret!"

She looks out over the plaza at the banners— Festil, Tolan, Marluk, Falkenberg-Kheldour, Aurelian, the sigil of the Queen's Moors.  The sound of cheering washes over her. She looks back at Christian and touches the highlighted scar across her face. Her husband grins at her.  She knows what he's thinking—  Valoret as Haupt- und Rezidenz-Stadt, the steel glove thrown down before the Haldanes and before Wencit in Beldour.

What we have, we hold.

Down there before the platform the State Inquisition troops are saluting with their blades. And all along the plaza, there are swords in the air. Out among the diplomatic corps, the envoys of Arjenol and Lorsol are bowing deeply.

Shock them, the Shadow Queen thinks. Let them see what they're dealing with. Let them see it here in my city.

[Jerusha]

Not a woman I want to cross!  I do hope she holds what she has, but I suspect it won't be easy.  Well done!

[DerynifanK]

You have painted a wonderful picture. As she declares her Festilic kingdom with Valoret as its capital is she also relinquishing Gwynedd and Rhemuth? I wonder how her enemies will read this gesture? One has to admire her statement of commitment to those who are faithful to her, regardless of race, or religion, or Deryniness. But I agree, I don't think holding what she has will be an easy task. And i am not sure I really trust her, actions speak louder than words. I like her communication with her twin sister's ghost. Perhaps we will hear more from her. Well done, Dr M.

[DoctorM]

Not a woman I want to cross!  I do hope she holds what she has, but I suspect it won't be easy.  Well done!

Thank you! And she means very clearly to hold what she has.

[DoctorM]

You have painted a wonderful picture. As she declares her Festilic kingdom with Valoret as its capital is she also relinquishing Gwynedd and Rhemuth? I wonder how her enemies will read this gesture? One has to admire her statement of commitment to those who are faithful to her, regardless of race, or religion, or Deryniness. But I agree, I don't think holding what she has will be an easy task. I like her communication with her twin sister's ghost. Perhaps we will hear more from her. Well done, Dr M.

I think whenever Charissa looks in the mirror, she sees her twin standing there with her, and that since she was a child, she's talked in her head with her lost twin.

I think she's saying that what she's building is something new, that she's not just claiming Gwynedd. Maybe she's saying that she means to remake Gwynedd into part of her own new kingdom. Maybe it's a way of saying that Gwynedd of the Haldanes will disappear. She's trying, I think, to create space for herself to try lots of new political alignments.

[Laurna]

I must say, she is a domineering woman. Ruthless too. But I dare say, that given a chance, I would run for the Lendour mountains and hide out with the Servants of St Camber. (I know they have not been found yet, but I would find a way to find them.)

Thank you, Doctor M for a most interesting insight into Queen Charissa's thoughts and plans. I feel like a spy in the midst of a wasps nest, because secretly, my loyalties are still elsewhere.

[DoctorM]

I must say, she is a domineering woman. Ruthless too. But I dare say, that given a chance, I would run for the Lendour mountains and hide out with the Servants of St Camber. (I know they have not been found yet, but I would find a way to find them.)

Thank you, Doctor M for a most interesting insight into Queen Charissa's thoughts and plans. I feel like a spy in the midst of a wasps nest, because secretly, my loyalties are still elsewhere.

Oh, ruthless, yes. Though she's very much loyal to her friends.

Domineering? Hmmm...you might have to ask Christian about that...

[Shiral]

Scary good, Dr. M! (Although I too, confess I still remain loyal to the Haldanes.... )
Melissa

[DoctorM]

Scary good, Dr. M! (Although I too, confess I still remain loyal to the Haldanes.... )
Melissa

Thank you! I like this scene-- I've been seeing it my head for a while. (I have some buildings in my memory that I'm envisioning as Loris' old palace-- Charissa's new royal residence)

[Shiral]

Scary good, Dr. M! (Although I too, confess I still remain loyal to the Haldanes.... )
Melissa

Thank you! I like this scene-- I've been seeing it my head for a while. (I have some buildings in my memory that I'm envisioning as Loris' old palace-- Charissa's new royal residence)

Oh wow....THAT would frost his mortal remains, all right!

[DoctorM]

Thank you! I like this scene-- I've been seeing it my head for a while. (I have some buildings in my memory that I'm envisioning as Loris' old palace-- Charissa's new royal residence)
[/quote]
Oh wow....THAT would frost his mortal remains, all right!
[/quote]


I think Charissa, Christian, and Aurelian all really enjoy that idea!

[Nezz]

I get confused about the timeline here... is this the latest story in your timeline? Or has something else that you've written come later? And approximately what year does this occur?

Good stuff, as usual...

[DoctorM]

I get confused about the timeline here... is this the latest story in your timeline? Or has something else that you've written come later? And approximately what year does this occur?

Good stuff, as usual...

This falls just a bit after "Coins". The current timeline is basically Gallery - Garden - Doors and Corners - Coins - Plaza. This is happening in the second winter after the Coronation duel.