Heart of the Crown

3. The Traitor-1

Three

The Traitor

Spring 960 MC

Alric's cavaliers, as they soon came to be known, had been a welcome diversion for the young prince, but now he had grown bored of them. It became apparent that they had little respect for him, but a great deal of respect for his coins, and so he simply stopped hosting them. This had the secondary effect of allowing him to awake each morning refreshed, rather than hung over.

It was a dreary morning this day, with dark clouds threatening rain. A portend, perhaps? He shrugged off the thought; the Gods didn't send portends, they merely watched things unfold. Mankind was far too fickle by itself to demand the direct attention of the Gods. He had decided to wander downstairs and get something to eat, but as he began descending the staircase, he heard rapid footsteps and turned to see Alstan hurrying behind him. His elder brother rushed past, ignoring him, his face decorated with a look of concern.

"Alstan?" he called out, but his brother kept going.

This must be something exciting, he thought, and so he followed along behind. Down the hallway Alstan ran, his younger brother desperately trying to catch up, his stride not quite up to that of his taller brother. Alric rounded the corner to see him enter their father's study, and rushed forward, grabbing the door before it could fully shut. He opened the door slightly, peering inside to see his brother, along with his mother, father, and uncle Edwin. Alstan was talking in a rush while everyone listened to him intently. Alric slipped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

"We've just received news, Father. I'm afraid it's bad," Alstan began.

"Spit it out, son," the king urged.

"I have just received word from Falford. Lord Garig has convinced the baron to support his plan."

There was a collective gasp in the room, and the king looked to the queen. "This is bad," Queen Igraine said, "if troops from Weldwyn cross into Merceria, it will be war."

"We must put a stop to it as quickly as possible," said Edwin. "We have to act before it's too late."

The king absorbed the details. "It's likely already too late. By the time we send troops to Falford, they'll have crossed the border."

"What shall we do?" asked the queen.

"We must do what we can," announced the king. "What are our options, Edwin?"

The slightly younger man pursed his lips in thought before speaking, "We must arrest the baron immediately, of course. We have to take action to show we don't support this."

"What if he's crossed the border with his troops?" asked Alstan. "Do we go after him?"

"No!" decreed the king. "Under no circumstances do you cross the border."

"I agree," said the queen, "it would only make the matter worse. If we cross the border to follow, it might be construed as a full-scale invasion."

"Send me," implored Alstan. "I can leave within the hour. I'll arrest the baron. Perhaps, if we're fast enough, we can get there before they march; it takes time to assemble an army."

"Very well," the king agreed, "leave as quickly as you can. Take a company of horse. I'll issue a warrant for his arrest immediately."

"Let me go with him," piped up Alric. "I can help."

The king turned in surprise at the sound of his youngest son's voice but recovered quickly. "Very well, Alric, go with your brother, but remember my words, gentlemen; under no circumstances are you to cross the border."

Alstan turned and quickly left, with Alric following along behind.

The door closed and the queen looked to her husband, her face full of understanding. "You think it's too late, don't you?"

"I do," he replied. "We received word today, but the message likely took five or six days to get to us. It'll take just as long for Alstan to get there. The army has marched, I am sure of it."

"Then Malin help us," the queen avowed, "for the future of the kingdom is now in jeopardy."