30 Miles away from Camelot’s Eastern Border
The War Camp had been sitting there for a day, already. Once the word traveled about the King of Camelot’s death, the Kings of the neighboring Kingdoms, Frank and Mercy, decided to meet on the border of Camelot to discuss a possible alliance and attack plans for Camelot. Joan, Daughter of Jason, Son of Isabelle bowed her head, causing a few strands of her yellow-blond hair to fall down, covering her face as she stepped toward the long table where the King of the Franks sat on one side with several of his divisors. She kept her eyes down as she neared the King of the Franks, King Louis XX. She saw why most of the severing ladies were jealous of her.
King Louis XX sat in his high back chair. His piercing dark blue eyes stared across the table at the King of Mercy, revealing irritation and annoyance. His bluish-black hair fell about his head with the ends curling slightly. A golden circlet held his hair back from falling in his face. His strong cut jaw twitched as he apparently chewed on his tongue or inner cheek. He wore his armor, with his family’s crest decorating the center of his chest.
The Crest was a phoenix raising from a pile of ashes, crying to the skies of its rebirth. If the crest had color to it instead the silver of mental, it would have showed the background having a few different colors. The bottom half showed a raising yellow sun, peeking over the top of the green hillside. The top half was black, slowly transitioning to a navy blue.
Rumor had it King Louis’ family was from the other side of the barrier, from a land called France. One of the King’s forefathers had managed to escape from a large-scale upraising with one of his wet nurses and a knight still loyal to the crown, but his parents died in the upraising. Nobody knew what had happened after the upraising took place, but once the Heir to the French Throne got to this side of the barrier, the Knight took it upon himself to create a Kingdom for the Heir to inherit, claiming they needed to raise an army to take back the young heir’s kingdom from the rebels. However, by the time the Heir was ready to claim the Throne, the Knight had died as did the wet nurse and the Heir thought it would be best if he stayed on this side of the barrier until he had his own heir. By the time that happened, The Heir to the French Throne died in a hunting trip, leaving his Queen to run things until the young heir was ready to take the Throne. Joan didn’t know if King Louis had any ambition to reclaimed the mysterious Throne of French. She pushed those thoughts out of her mind and studied the King a bit more.
He didn’t wear the navy-blue cape of his House colors, today. She had heard that the King refused to wear the cape because he was meeting with the King of Mercy or at least that was the rumor Joan heard before she was selected to be the cupbearer for this meeting.
Joan slipped between the King and his Master of Strategy and reached out to grab the King’s cup. It was a beautiful creation. Small gems were in planted along the circumference of the goblet. She knew the blue gems were Sapphires while the red were rubies, and the dark beautiful green ones were emeralds. She barely remembered her mother’s teachings about the gems and their various meanings, but she did remembered that Sapphires represented Divine law and order while giving the owner protection from the evil eye. She heard her heart thumped widely in her chest as she brought the King’s goblet toward her and poured him more wine from the large pitcher. She replaced the goblet and turned to the Master of Strategy.
Now, that was a dangerous man to cross. The Master of Strategy was a double role, often playing as the Spy Master for King Louis. Joan didn’t remember his name but knew of the man by his reputation to be cruel and cunning. He wore a cloak with its hood pulled over his face. He didn’t wear his coat of arms on his chest like the King did. He couldn’t afford to be identified like that. Joan saw the glint of silver along his belt and got the unspoken message. Do anything funny and it would be the last thing she would do.
She reached for his undecorated goblet. She immediately felt his eyes land on her as she brought the goblet closer to her before she poured from the pitcher. She waited for a seconds, watching the dark purple liquid waterfall into the goblet. Once at a level she knew it was appropriate, she pulled back on the pitcher and the wine slid from the lip of the pitcher as she replaced the goblet on the table. She turned away at the same time as the Master of Strategy and Spy reached up suddenly and grabbed her wrist. She jerked her head around to stare at him with wide eyes. Her lips parted as she let out a short squeak. That sent the men on both sides of the table chuckling at her. She ignored them as she felt the Master of Strategy and Spy’ s eyes upon her. Once the chuckling stopped, the man spoke up in a smooth voice that reminded Joan of the finest chocolate, “Thank you, miss.”
Those three words broke the silence of the War Room. A Lord three chairs from the Master of Strategy and Spy spoke up in a haughty, “Why on earth did you thank her, Master Nori? She’s just a servant.”
So, his name was Nori, Joan mused as she tried to calm her racing heartbeat. She tried to get over the fact he had spoken to her like she was an equal. That was something new. She never was spoken to like that before, at least outside of her small family.
“A servant she may be,” Master Nori started as he let her go and waved her on. She bowed her head, slightly in thanks. She listened as he went on, “I have learned that Servants can have a King’s fortune worth of information. If they are unhappy with their ruler, they are willingly to spill their secrets quite easily.”
Eyes immediately shifted to Joan as she slipped between the next two chairs. She tried her best to ignore those accusing eyes. However, she didn’t contradict Master Nori. She had heard a lot of things in the various meetings she had severed in, ranging from the innocent words of love to the harsh words of possible assassinations of revenge.
“There are times that the servants are the first person people like us accuse and are willing to use as a scapegoat,” Master Nori went on, “However, there are times they are the last person since they are aware of dirt on their masters.” Joan repeated the process of filling the cups of wine, aware of the War Council watching her every move. “Spy Masters like myself have sought out the servants who claim to witness nothing while they were hiding in the shadows of a dark hallway, listening to the secretive words shared between lovers or the heated argument between siblings.”
“So, girl,” King Louis spoke up. Joan’s back straighten as she knew her King had spoken to her, personally, “Are you happy within my kingdom?”
“Yes, I am, your majesty,” Joan replied, turning to the King, with her eyes on the high back chair. That was only a half truth. There were a lot of things she wished he would changed, but she didn’t dare to speak to her King like an equal. While King Louis was known to try to raise up to the mental of King - rumor was he was one of the descendants of the First King of Camelot, King Arthur I through his mother’s bloodline - and tried to live up to the notion that his long, long ancestor was the great and powerful ruler he was; there was things King Louis had no clue that was going on within the borders of his Kingdom. Of course, Joan was aware of the possible that the King was aware, but just didn’t care and thought he had more important things to do then help the average person on the road. “I think I speak for my family as well when I say, we are happy with you as our King.” Joan went on.
“Good,” The King nodded. Joan saw he gave his spy master a look before he turned back to the man across the table, “Shall we get started?”
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“No,” The King of Mercy drawled, “Not until that servant is out of this tent.” Joan felt the Mercy ruler’s eyes on her, now. She kept her head bowed, shoulder hunched forward, trying to make herself small as possible.
“Are you feeling threaten by a mere girl?” King Louis questioned; a smirk colored his tone. She flickered her eyes up, peering through her curtain of yellow-blond hair, watching the interaction between Kings.
“No,” the Merican King snapped, “I don’t want to see our possible alliance to fall apart because a severing girl who can’t keep her mouth shut.”
Louis snorted in amusement, commenting, “the majority of MY servants know the value of silence. I haven’t sentence one of my servants to death due to a pair of loose lips.”
Joan pressed her lips together. She had heard from the other servants that came with the Merican Army that many of the lesser servants and non-humans have gone missing over the last couple years. The Merican servants often been seen giving one of the Lords panicked looks and gave him a wide birth. According to the rumors, he was a man of science, the kind of science that often resulted in dead bodies and mysterious creatures that were better off not being created. Unfortunately, Joan glanced over to the said Lord sitting on the far side of the table, he was at this War Council.
He was an older man. White had replaced the color of his hair, years ago, from the look of it. He didn’t look like the other Lords Joan had took noticed of while she severed the older lords and knights. He had a glint in his eye that informed her that she needed to stay away from him, a dark curiosity that promised a even darker end to the ones who crossed his path, negatively.
“And you are saying that I have?” the Merican King retorted. His stormy gray eyes narrowed.
“No,” Louis replied, “I do not have evidence of that. Just rumors upon rumors that Master Nori have gathered since your army had arrived here.” Silence filled the tent before the Frank King went on, “But we are not here for trading barbs about how we run our kingdoms, now, are we?” Joan’s eyes flickered back and forth between the kings. She moved on, going back to her duty as the cup bearer, filling the cups of wine. “We are here to discuss the possible of alliance between our two kingdoms for a war against Camelot.”
“And you are saying that I have?” the Merican King retorted. His stormy gray eyes narrowed.
“No,” Louis replied, “I do not have evidence of that. Just rumors upon rumors that Master Nori have gathered since your army had arrived here.” Silence filled the tent before the Frank King went on, “But we are not here for trading barbs about how we run our kingdoms, now, are we?” Joan’s eyes flickered back and forth between the kings. She moved on, going back to her duty as the cup bearer, filling the cups of wine. “We are here to discuss the possible of alliance between our two kingdoms for a war against Camelot.”
“That we are,” The Merican King agreed, “According to the intelligence my spies have gathered, Uther X is fallen gravely ill and is not expected to recover from it.”
“My spies have reported the same,” Louis stated, “We both have an issue with the Drake family.”
Joan knew that the Drake family of Camelot was the current Ruling Family. If she remembered correctly, her grandmother had a relative that was part of the Drake family, but something had happen and they had lost touch, years ago, or something like that.
“Yes, we do,” the Merican King nodded, “I think it is time to reach a possible alliance between our two kingdoms and destroy Camelot, once and for all.” Louis sat in his chair. He rested his elbow on the arm rest and cupped his chin with his right hand, listening. “We can split the so called once great Kingdom in two. You will be able to take Kalliope as your queen.”
Joan didn’t need to look at her king to know he liked that idea. He still hadn’t married after 15 years on the throne. He was forced to take the throne at 15 when a mysterious illness swept through the war camp where his father, the former King, was located and eventually succumbed to the illness. He had many ladies at the Frank Court to choose from, but he never did. It led to many rumors that Louis prefer a different kind of company then the feminine kind.
The Merican King went on, “As for the rest of the Queens, Clarine is still young enough to bare children. I will claim her as mine.”
“What about the Queens Belladonna and Viviene?” Louis questioned, “Also, Prince Arthur?”
“If they don’t bend to our wills, they can be dealt with,” the Merican king shrugged, “I know someone would love to get their hands on that bitch Belladonna.” He glanced toward the so-called man of science. “As for Prince Arthur, we kill him to set an example for the rest of the kingdom. To show what happens if they don’t fall in line with our wishes.”
Louis hummed. A Lord near Joan shifted before he spoke up in a slight squeaky voice, “Your majesty, if I may?”
“Please, Sir Peter, speak freely,” Louis nodded at the Lord.
“What about the magi?” Sir Peter asked, still in the same squeaky tone. Joan knew that Sir Peter usually sounded better then this. It could be the fact the changing weather had finally got to him, just like it had with a few dozen people in the camp already. She had a friend in the Healer’s tent and she had been complaining about all the ill Lords and Knights that wonder in. She retreated back to the table behind the King’s chair where she sat down the pitcher. “Camelot still had the legendary Battle Mage Merlin and his former apprentice, the Black she-mage, the Lady Morgana.”
“What about them?” The Merican King questioned. “Uther doesn’t believe that they have magic, that the magic those two uses are nothing more than polar tricks. I doubt they have real magic to be begin with,” he waved his hand dismissively. “If they did have real magic, they would have used it 10 years ago during the time of the Kingless Kingdom.”
“Besides,” a nasal voice filled with ill intent rang out. Joan felt a shiver slither its up her spine. Her eyes flickered toward the man of Science, “Science has proved to be a much better fighting weapon then those polar tricks.” He paused, smirking, “In fact, do you want an example of what I am talking about?”
The King of the Franks shifted in his chair when someone burst through the tent flap. Immediately, Knights on both sides of the table shifted into protective stances in front of their King. The Master of Strategy and Spy for the Franks stood, pushing his chair back hard enough to cause it to fall backwards and landed with a thud against the rug covered ground, a deadly looking knife appearing in his hand. The Merican Spy counterpart suddenly appeared at the Merican King’s side like he phased out of thin air while the Merican Strategy Master stood directly in front of his King. Joan grabbed a tent pole, intending to slip around it and disappear under the nearest table. Panting echoed loudly in the tent.
“Your highness,” the man panted as he bent over, trying to catch his breath, “I have news!”
“What is it?” the Merican king demanded.
“Catch your breath, first,” Louis said, calmly.
Joan, meanwhile, scanned the newcomer over. Her eyes widened as she recognized the bag now dangling from the man’s right side. There was a symbol on the cover of a hand holding a scroll. It was a tell-tale sign of a messenger or at least a town crier. They were known to travel long distances to deliver messengers to the far off towns on along the border of a kingdom. Most of them were known to be loyal to a kingdom, but once in a while, a messenger would be find dead along the edge of an enemy kingdom, usually for betraying the Kingdom they worked for. She knew there was a guild for the messengers. If she remembered correctly, there would be at least one in each kingdom and they would work together, giving each other the ground-breaking news like an upcoming wedding of a royal family; a birth of a child to a Lord or a Lady or even to the Royal family; and even the death of a member of the Ruling class. This messenger was dressed in the Frank colors.
When the messenger stood up, straight, and he pulled out a scroll from his bag. He unrolled it and announced in a loud voice, “The King of Camelot, King Uther X of the House Drake, is dead.” He paused, allowing those words to sink in before he continued on, “King Uther succumbed to his illness on the morning of May 17, 2047, in the year of our Lord.” He paused again, still trying to catch his breath, “The Crown Prince of Camelot, Prince Arthur IX of House Drake has decided not to take up the Crown of Camelot.”
Joan froze. The Crown Prince of Camelot decided not to take the throne of what used to be the Greatest Kingdom in the world? She glanced at the others in the room. King Louis looked shocked while the Merican King’s face held a pleased look. Master Nori frowned at the Messenger while his Merican counterparts narrowed their eyes. The Merican Man of Science looked gleefully. That sent a rock to settle in Joan’s stomach. This news would change everything, now.
The Merican King turned to Louis and placed his hands on the table, “This is the perfect time to march on Camelot.” He looked at the men gathered at the table, “When she is the weakest, when she doesn’t have a King sitting on the throne.”
Louis turned to look at his Merican counterpart and voiced the question that most of the men were asking silently, “But why did Prince Arthur turned down the crown?”
“Who cares?” the Merican King shot back, “We can figure that out later after we take Camelot,” he turned to his side of the table, “Tell the men to get ready to march out.” He turned back to the Frank King, “What do you say? We create an alliance and destroy Camelot.” He stared at Louis with a hard stare, waiting for the other King’s reply.
“How do we solidify this alliance?” Louis questioned in an even tone.
“I have a son and you have a sister,” The Merican King replied, “Together, they can help create a peaceful alliance between our two kingdoms. It will be a step toward bringing this entire island back under one banner again like it was during the Great King Arthur’s time.”
Louis cocked his head to the side, thinking. Joan knew Princess Anna-Marie would throw a fit if she knew what her older brother was considering. Princess Anna-Marie had been only 5 years old when Louis took the throne. However, Joan knew there would be benefits of an arrangement. Joan blinked and turned her gaze upon the King when he spoke, “Yes, it would be a step forward to what this island used to be. I agree. Our alliance will be solidified with the marriage of my younger sister to your son.” He paused, “Perhaps the sooner the better, don’t you agree?”
The Mercy King smirked, “Yes, I quite agree. In three months’ time, our two bloodlines will united in marriage then its onto war.” He held out his hand to Louis. Louis grabbed it. The two shook on the agreement.