allies; long did we enjoy such relations with them in the past, in the times of my long fathers.
“Indeed, good King Edward” the dwarf actually smiled then. “If you are amenable, I shall return to your great court soon with a miraculous thing which grows within the depths of our deepest caves: it is a golden mushroom, which, when but a small piece of it is consumed, is known to cure all ills, and to alleviate conditions of a physical malady. I have myself seen a fellow dwarf re-grow a severed arm upon eating only half of one golden cap from this remarkable growth, and I am sure that there must be a place somewhere within the great Kingdom of Daventry where the spores of the golden mushroom might take hold and spread, providing your people with a means to avoid any sickness.”
The King was astounded, and his councilors murmured their own shock. “Noble dwarf,” replied King Edward after a time, “surely, no greater gift has ever been imparted upon me or mine! I shall pass notification to all of the guards, and to the watchmen of the capital; you are to be afforded residence in town, to be used as you see fit, and a position upon this council, should you so desire it. If you wish it not, a worthy member of your folk may claim it in your place, and it shall always be given unto your people as a sign of friendship.”
“I am grateful, good King,” Braamfohg replied, once again stroking his beard, behind which his expression was difficult to determine. “My people however, would also greatly appreciate a token in return, though it need not be a thing of great value. In our great Round Hall, we display items of symbolic importance to the great lands and houses with which we are allied. Such a thing would my people look most favorably upon, and thereby we might renew the bonds which we did enjoy so immensely on ages past, as well as once more accept human tradesmen into our deeping ways.”
King Edward nodded, still bright with enthusiasm. “Good and noble friend, if you should return with this miraculous golden mushroom, we shall happily grant you a token of our house and Kingdom, that you may bring it back to your people as a sign of good faith between our two realms.”
With that, a few more pleasantries were exchanged as befit such an auspicious occasion whereupon, Braamfohg ap Forgescythe did depart to refresh himself before undertaking the journey back to his people with what were, King Edward hoped, such tidings as would gladden their hearts. Meanwhile, the business of his royal council was brought to an eventual conclusion; with no other lofty matters requiring his attention on that day, he forsook his hours to be spent hearing grievances on the throne for the first time in his memory, so that he might sit by Queen Katherine's side. So it was that in that rarest of moments on that morning, one which made him smile for his own sake, he found himself present at the moment of her awakening from her torpor.
“My King...” She was pale and wan, and she was obviously weak. She looked as though she had been ill with a terrible fever for days, such was the trauma wrought upon her by the plague only the night before the one previous. “It is good to see you,” she said.
“As it is to see you,” he replied, struggling to keep his composure in the face of mingled concern and gratitude, for he was truly grateful for the feeling that his beloved wife might soon return to his side. “It has been but a day my Queen, but it is a sore grievance ruling this land without your beneficent advice.”
“You...” And here, she weakened, but the Queen was able to gasp out “...are a good king, my Edward,” before the ladies in waiting ushered the King out, having been given absolute authority over the Queen's sick-chamber.
As it happened, he returned to the Great Hall intending to take his high seat and hear some cases which were calling for his royal justice, at precisely the perfect moment as to run into the High Marshal who had himself been making a line towards the tower in which the royal apartments were housed.
“My King,” the High Marshal said, “I was seeking you; the military has been greatly bolstered by your edicts, though there was some unrest... nothing to be worried about in itself, as yet. However, our show of force, though significant, has not been sufficient to scare away from the borders of Daventry all of those who would prey upon your great Kingdom. I fear that we are at risk of attack and quickly, perhaps within the next three days by the might of the Kingdom of Canton.”
Canton had long existed in an uneasy truce with the Kingdom of Daventry. It had been ruled by a succession of Kings who, while it might be argued that they were to the last fair, were certainly to the last hard men; they believed in taking for Canton what Canton could take. As it happened, it was a Kingdom rich with a wealth of minerals and vast forested lands, but these very qualities made for poor farmland, as the soil was largely lacking in resources: much of the nutrients that might well have been safeguarded by Canton's many forests were washed into the river, and actually carried downstream to a series of other Kingdoms, Daventry included. As these realms enjoyed a rich wealth of farmland, Canton had often been found to demand a great price in crops and in other goods which they could not produce for themselves in exchange for their iron, silver and timber.
This Daventry provided out of her own prosperity for several generations, seeing it as only fair, given that Daventry might otherwise be said to be profiting at Canton's expense. As a result, for many years she had been left alone, even as Canton's borders slowly expanded in other directions, and established colonies in distant realms. However, the new King of Canton, Ulthwe Farheart, was as rash and ruthless as his forebears had been even-handed. He took Daventry's loss of their magic mirror as a sign that it was time to strike, and to claim the “light-hearted and soft-bellied folk of Daventry,” as he describe them for the Cantonese crown.
“High Marshal,” said King Edward, his tone soft and grim, “you bear me ill tidings in a time of ill tidings, but perhaps all is not for lost; our army is now strong, and there are still the other treasures of this great Kingdom to consider. It may be time that Canton is shown that she cannot simply walk abroad upon others' lands and strike at them, and not suffer reprisal. I shall fetch my armor, and my father's old shield, and then meet you on the field of battle forthwith.”
The High Marshal nodded, even looking pleased in a somewhat reserved fashion. The King of course understood, here was a man of action after all, and Daventry had seen very little of that for many years, perhaps even going back to before the High Marshal's military service began. You wanted men of action in such positions, specifically for such times as these but how it must chafe, the King thought sadly, these times of peace, for a man who wishes nothing more than to defend his Kingdom in the field. With that thought in mind, he made his way in a hurry to the royal armory, and procured his father's old shield from its long-honored place of rest. “See me to good fortune,” he said to the item, somewhat sadly, “and I shall return you forthwith to this position of honor, hopefully nary to be needed for your ancient purpose for a dozen generations yet to come.”
King Edward's father had been King Regis II, and King Regis' shield was itself said to be a relic from the days of Daventry's many allegiances with now half-remembered peoples and far off and exotic lands. Whether it came from the forges of the Mountain Dwarves or the frozen ores of the Ice Nymphs however, the shield was known to have certain magical properties. It was one of the great relics of the Kingdom, for it would keep its wearer all but invincible, safe from virtually any harm. It was even said that the smudges on the otherwise unblemished shield's front were from the fiery breath of a great and powerful dragon, and that the shield had protected its bearer from the creature's assault with only that slight scuffing to show for it. The bearer of the shield of King Regis would find his presence upon the battlefield enhanced, so that his troops would follow him always, and even in the face of an absolute rout would be rallied successfully. With their fighting skills emboldened and their leader invincible, it was little wonder that—so legend held it—no army bearing the shield at its front had ever met defeat on the field of battle.
Before he found his squire to have his armor strapped on, the
King went to pay one final visit to his Queen, in the event that he did not return. It was a formality and a tradition which King Edward felt personally must be done; but it was not an easy thing, nor was it an encounter that was entirely joyous. The Queen looked more ill than she had, even earlier in the day. Privately, the King thought of the Mountain Dwarf's promise of a magical golden mushroom that could cure any ills—but he spoke not of it to Katherine, for fear of exciting her fears, after what had happened with that vile sorcerer: the self-styled Magus Deveureaux.
“Hurry home to me, dear husband,” the Queen managed to whisper.
“I shall do that, my love.” And then, Edward thought to himself, as he leaned in close to kiss his beloved wife upon her forehead: we shall see about making you well, and I shall find one worthy to take up my throne after I am gone, for I would have you always by my side, child or no.
Kingdom at War
The border between Daventry and Canton fell on a stretch of appropriately bleak land, weathered and worn by the scars of then-ancient conflicts too numerous to speak of; for once upon a time, the two great Kingdoms had,