TWO KINGDOMS: LEOPARDS
This is the thirty-sixth part of an AU construction about a Gwynedd where the duel at Kelson Haldane's coronation went very differently indeed. We are now almost three years into the Gwynedd Wars-- Charissa's new kingdom at Valoret against the Haldanes in the south and the kingdom of Torenth in the east. This episode follows immediately after "Homecoming". As always, comments and suggestions are very much appreciated.****
The Shadow Queen comes down the corridor in the midst of her guards. She strides long, with four Queen's Moors around her and half a dozen Tolan Guard in two files on either side.
She's in a black
khilat, trimmed with blood red, and she wears the antique crown worn by the second Festil. Her face shows nothing, and as she reaches the doors of the council chamber, her chamberlain announces her as all she's become and all she's fighting to be:
"My lords— Charissa, first of her name, by right of conquest and of blood Queen of Tolan and the West, Duchess of Tolan and Marluk, Countess of Gwernach, Countess of Tigre and of Cardosa, Sovereign Lady of all the lands above and below the Molling, Overlord of Meara, Lady of the Rhendalls, Lady of the Northern Seas and of the Isles, Lady of the Kheldish Gulf, Lady of the Purple March, High Princess of Nordmark and the Northern Lands, and of all Her other Lands and Dominions beyond the mountains and the seas, Protector of the Realm..."This is what she is.
****
Kyri is there in the doorway, and one of
les chiennes is bowing her in. "Your Grace— the Lady Roiste."
Charissa looks up from the coloured sketches strewn over her work table. She motions her lady-in-waiting out and watches the heavy door close. She looks at Kyri and smiles. "Flame," she says.
Kyri is looking back at her with a somber face. She's in a deep grey
khilat from the Shadow Queen's own wardrobe. Red hair falls loose past her shoulders. "Shadow," she says.
"I came to talk," Kyri says. "We need to talk, you and I. There are things I have to say."
Charissa's smile is fixed. "I thought there would be." She sighs. "I'll always listen to you. You know that."
Kyri frowns at the table. "What is all that? What are you doing?"
The Shadow Queen's smile comes back alive. "I've been with the heralds and my lawyers. With Christian, too, of course. We're making some changes to just who I am. Come look."
"Of course with your man. He's always behind what you do."
Charissa holds up a heavy sheet. "Here we are," she says. "This is mine— the arms of ducal Tolan. We're revising them."
Kyri stares at it. She has Latin and Connaiti, Bremagni and the Gwynedd tongue, and she has the heralds' language as well. It's an old coat-of-arms, the duchy of Tolan, old and complicated:
Ermine, two lion's jambes Gules, clawed Or, in chief dancetty Gules, a jeweled coronet Or. "What in God's name are you doing?"
"No more lions," Charissa says. "Lions are noble and they're brave, but the Haldanes have an effing lion and I'm going to have leopards. Leopards are my animal. They're noble and brave, too, and they're quick and smart and nimble. I like quick and smart and nimble. I've going to have leopards on my arms, and on my banners, too. The leopards are the new royal Festillic animal."
"That has to be Kheldour's idea."
Charissa shakes her head. "Flame, no-- it's my idea. But he likes it, Chrissy does. He's writing things up in his head already: T
he golden lion lay low in the dust, and the leopards of Festil kept watch upon the field... I can hear him say that already. For his history of the Gwynedd wars."
"That's what you'll be, then. A leopard, not a lion. Some clever hunting animal."
"Clever and nimble. That's what I've always had to be."
Kyri lets out a breath. "What you are, what you have to be— I heard what you are today. What your chamberlains are announcing you as. Your new royal style. Everyone's trying to parse what you're saying. It's all Kheldour's work, isn't it? It all sounds like him."
"Chrissy drafted a lot of it. The lawyers and the diplomats just sat there and looked at each other. But it says what I want it to say."
"Of course it does." Kyri is staring down at the maps of the Eleven Kingdoms opened out on the table. "Half of it, I don't know what it means. What's Lady of the Northern Seas and the Isles? What's Lady of the Kheldish Gulf?" She throws up her hands. "There has to be wine here."
Charissa laughs and points to a beaker across the table. "Fianna white," she says. "I'll pour. There's
uisce if you need it."
Kyri looks at her. "Overlord of Meara. Why put it like that?"
"Open options," the Shadow Queen says.
Kyri's eyes widen. ""Oh dear God— you're intriguing with the Mearan pretender. You're going to use that Quinnell woman for something."
"I might," Charissa is smiling. "I just might."
Kyri is running a fingertip over the map— Skaggarak in the Northern Sea, down to the Kheldish Gulf, and down again and over to the blue line of the Molling. She takes a wine cup from the queen. "Lady of the seas and the isles, Lady of the Gulf. What's it all about?"
Charissa bends close to her. "I think I'd like being a sea lord," she says. "And it's a way of saying that all those northern places with seacoasts— Cassan and Claibourne and Kierney —come under my crown. Everything on their littorals and inland too could be mine. I might say that for the Netterhaven shore in Torenth, too."
"Oh my God. And what's
the lands above and below the Molling even mean?"
The Shadow Queen's smile is bright. "Above and below the Molling? I think a lot of people call those lands 'Gwynedd'."
"You won't even use the name."
"Why should I? I thought about Grand Duchess of Haldane, but I'm damned if I'll have that word in my titles. It's the West part of Tolan-and-the-West. That's all it has to be. Let's let the boy down in Rhemuth think about that."
Kyri takes a breath. "Rhemuth. Let's talk about Rhemuth. That's what I'm here for. You're calling yourself Protector of the Realm, but you're burning down the cities of your realm. I know what you're doing between Valoret and Rhemuth, too. Your realm could all be ashes."
Charissa looks down into her wine cup. "No. No." She looks up at Kyri. "Flame— Rhemuth is an enemy capital right now. And I didn't torch it. I burned the warehouses and the docks. I'm not letting Duke Nigel and Kelson Haldane use those to supply their armies. I burned the docks and I burned the warehouses— my name's on the orders. I stand by doing it. Anything else, that was the Haldanes' own hired soldiers. Between Valoret and Rhemuth, that's a borderland right now. I won't make it easy for Haldane armies to cross it. Yes— we'll harry and waste it. Anything lives there, it'll be my towers and forts. Nothing but leopard's teeth to keep the Haldanes out. Yes— I will have Brechlin re-settle anyone who comes north out of there to us. Anybody flees north, they have my protection. They won't starve. But I'm not apologizing to anybody ever for Rhemuth."
Kyri looks hard at the queen. "Not just Rhemuth. There's another town, maybe east of Valoret. I heard about what you did there, too."
Charissa shakes her head. "St. Holstun. The place is called St. Holstun. There was an anti-Deryni outbreak there last autumn. A couple of dozen killed, a dozen of those burnt. Shops and houses wrecked. I don't know if all the dead were actually Deryni, but the ones burnt were. They say
ratonnade in Bremagni—
rat hunt. Hunting down Deryni. You know the word, or you should. In Torenthi, you say
pogrom— it means
to destroy. Destroying Deryni. I sent in Marluk troops to punish the locals.
Ratissage— raking the place over, burning it out. Call that counter-terror. You're on the effing Council, Flame. You should know all the words. You should know what still happens to Deryni. Not that the effing Council has ever done anything to stop it. But not in my lands, not in my kingdom. Not now, not any longer, not ever. No apologies for any
ratissage, either. Don't ever ask for an apology for that. Flame, as much as you mean to me, as much as what you say means, I'll never apologize for what I did. I'll do it again, too."
Kyri closes her eyes. "The thing is," she says, "that you are a monster, and that I can't say I wouldn't be one, too. I can't even effing say that you're wrong."
Charissa puts her hand atop Kyri's. Her fingers slide between Kyri's and curl around them. "You're important to me. You and I, we go back to when I was just a girl everybody wanted dead or gone and you were just becoming an adept. Fifteen years, I've known you. What you say to me means something. It always has. It always will. I'll always listen to you. But I'm fighting a war for Gwynedd. I'm fighting another one against Torenth, and maybe a third against Stefan effing Coram and his friends. I told you last winter in Valoret, I'm fighting to win, no matter what. You have to know that."
"It's Kheldour that tells you to be a monster. He wants you to be a character in his story. He likes having a leopard on a leash."
Charissa brushes her wine cup against Kyri's hair. "No. I learned how to fight on my own. And Chrissy— no. Chrissy and I, we're the stories he and I tell each other. I'm not on his leash, he's not on mine. We're what we are together, side by side: Falcon and Leopard. We do belong to each other, Chrissy and I. That's something forever. I'm his woman. You have to get past being jealous. There's never been any need. You're important to me. Shadow and Flame, Roiste."
"I'm still on the Council. You sent to have me rescued from Rhydon's people, and I'm here in your palace and I'm wearing your clothes and drinking your wine. But I'm still on the Council. You have to know that."
Charissa touches a finger to Kyri's lips. "The Council's broken. It's dead or dying. I can respect and admire de Laney, and I have nothing against Laran. But the Council's finished. Maybe you'll be the one who builds another one some day. Maybe you should be the one who does. Right now, it's a time for monsters. It's only monsters that can make a new world. You're part of the new world I want to build. Shadow and Flame, always."
Kyri leans her head against Charissa's shoulder. "
Charissa, first of her name. Down in Bremagne, they're starting to put numbers after kings' names— Ryol First, Ryol Second. Charissa First, Charissa the First. I like
first of her name better. All those things you're calling yourself, all those things you want to be, they're all you, they're yours, they're you. Don't be the last of your name, though. I know you love Kheldour; I've always known that. I know you have to fight your wars, too. I'm Connaiti; vendetta is one thing I do understand. Just...have a realm when you're finished. Be queen of the isles, not just queen of ashes."
The Shadow Queen nods. "We're going to Marluk soon. I want you and Thorne both with me for that. I want to show Chrissy off in Marluk as my prince, and I want all my father's old vassals to see me with a crown. Then we're back to Valoret. I have things to tell you about what we're fighting in the shadows. It's not just Coram. Do you know how leopards hunt?"
Kyri shakes her head. "No. They're animals on banners. I've never seen one in life."
Charissa brings up Kyri's hand and kisses it. "They wait," she says. "They find a tree by a watering hole and they wait. They wait and they wait and then something comes along and they're out of the tree like a flash. Quick and nimble, and they run their prey down. That's how it works. You're coming with me, and you'll see. I'm going to wait and wait and come down on my enemies out of nowhere. All of them. Chrissy gets his ending for his histories: the Festillic leopard keeping watch on the field."
"first of her name" feels very much Game of Thrones to me. https://heraldica.org/topics/britain/britstyles.htm has examples of styles of English, GB, and UK monarchs from Henricus octavus to Elizabeth II. I am astonished that Broody Mary called herself "Mary the First".
Though less so that Edward VI called himself "Edward". The sitting king doesn't actually need a numeral, after all; you only need a numeral to discuss what a previous king did. Though really he doesn't even need a name, c.f. Japanese and Chinese imperial practice. For example, "Proclamation directing the omittance of the arms of Hanover from the Royal Arms. London, July 26, 1837." It was "By the Queen", because who else is proclaiming it in the UK, Frederica of Mecklenburg-Strelitz Queen of Hanover? The Queen of Hawaii?
"Ermine, two lion's jambes Gules, clawed Or"
The arrangement of the jambes is not mentioned , and I don't know that in real history there was a default. X (in saltire)? = (fesswise in pale)? || (palewise in fess)? It should be explicitly blazoned. EDIT: I was quite wrong. In SCA usage, which probably matches real-world usage but I haven't yet gotten anything definitive, "Lions' and dragons' jambes are erect by default, with their claws to chief; humans' and birds' legs are foot down by default.". For two long skinny things that are palewise (like |), the natural arrangement is side by side. So if this pans out, then the orientation and arrangement need not be blazoned.
"in chief dancetty Gules, a jeweled coronet Or." "in" denotes a location, so "in chief" means "up top". This therefore doesn't name an object that is red. In our timeline's England's medieval practice, a "dance" was a fess (horizontal stripe), and it appears that "dancetty" was used only for two-sided charges like a fess or bend or whatnot. (http://mistholme.com/dictionary/ordinaries/ is for SCA practice, but the guy writing the articles looks for medieval and Renaissance usage, but I'm moderately certain that his statement refers to medieval use.)
So "on a chief indented Gules, a jeweled coronet Or".
Personally, I'd leave fru-fru artistic nits like "clawed" and "jeweled" off, but I can't say they're wrong. Except gold claws aren't going to be so visible against an ermine field.
Thank you for not doing the "of the first", "of the second", etc. stupidity.
the custom of numbering, in England, is usually traced to Edward I, Edward II and Edward III - having three successive kings with the same name causing some confusion.
It's why the count of Edwards begins from them and not from the Anglo-Saxon kings of that name.
I do like Charissa's choice of leopards for all of the reasons she states.
"Lady of the Northern Seas and of the Isles;" now why do I find that so interesting? ;D
I think the only copy of a fanzine that I ever bought was a copy of Deryni Archives. It had this story, o what was it? ... "Lover of Shadows", yeah, that's it. I thought it possibly the best tale of the Deryni out there (with apologies to Katherine Kurtz). For years I wondered whether that author was writing anything else in the Deryni universe.
It seems to me that Charissa is becoming greedy and greed often leads to downfall. Also I recall a story where Marek was captured, the people of the region having given his location and direction to his pursuers. They turned against him because of the destruction they suffered at the hands of the Festils. Charissa might do well to remember that.