A Rule of Queens

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Alistair opened her eyes slowly, feeling a deep sense of peace as she lay in Erec’s arms in the kingly four-poster bed, on silk sheets, atop a pile of silk pillows, in the newly reconstructed King’s chambers. Dawn was breaking slowly over the Southern Isles, visible through their open air bedroom, and birds were already chirping on this temperate day, soft ocean breezes rolling through the window. Alistair could smell the fragrance of all the fruit trees blossoming.

It was another divine day here on the Southern Isles, another day in Erec’s arms, the two of them finally happy together, having all the time in the world to spend with each other, and never tiring of each other’s company. As she lay there in his arms, his body warm, Alistair thanked the gods for how lucky she was to have finally found peace and contentment in her life. For once, the woes of the world were not intruding on their relationship. She had been given a respite in the endless chaos of her life.

Erec slowly woke, sensing she was awake, as he always did, and he looked at her and smiled. His light blue eyes were shining in the morning sun, and she could feel his love as he stared at her.

“Before the dawn, my love?” he said.

She smiled.

“I am excited,” she said. “I am thinking of my dress.”

He smiled.

“Our wedding is a week off still, my love,” he said. “Try not to weary yourself.”

They kissed, and they held it for a long time. Alistair laid her head on his chest.

She could already hear the distant sound of the workers outside her window, already hard at work before the sun rose for the preparations for their wedding to come. The entire island was abuzz with activity. It had given them something to focus on, to be joyous about, at the time they needed it the most. It had given them all something to rally around, to shake off the gloom of the civil war that had happened one moon cycle ago. Now, finally, they could all be united under Erec’s kingship. And by their love for Alistair.

Excited, Alistair rose from bed, threw on her robe, and drifted out to the balcony. She stood there, looking out on it all, reveling in it, and enjoyed watching all the preparations, all the banquets being laid out, dish after dish already being rolled out in preparation. Endless rows of flowers were being set and shaped, casks of ail put into place, and the tournament grounds set up. All with a week still to go.

Erec came up beside her, draping an arm around her waist.

“I never thought this day would come,” Alistair said.

“Are you sad your family will not be here?” he asked. “Thorgrin?”

Alistair sighed. She had thought about that many times.

“Of course, I would like them all here, Thorgrin, Gwendolyn, and all those we love from King’s Court. Perhaps, though, one day we can have a second wedding, in the Ring, in King’s Court.”

Erec smiled.

“I would like that,” he replied. “Very much. In fact, after our wedding, why don’t we return? Visit the Ring?”

Alistair’s eyes widened.

“Really?” she asked.

“Why not?” he said. “We rushed here to see my father before his death. Now that he is gone, I see no reason why we cannot visit our homeland. We can have a second wedding. King’s Court would be thrilled to host us.”

Alistair laughed at the idea.

“I can’t think of anything finer,” she said, “than to be married to you twice.”

She leaned over and they kissed again, and Alistair felt so at peace in the world. She was finally exactly where she wanted to be. She loved this place with all her heart, loved Erec even more, could not wait to have Erec’s children here, to build a life here. It felt like home to her. For the first time in her life, she felt as if she had really found her home.

There came a sudden bang on the door, the familiar knock of their steward, two short quick knocks, and Erec turned and hurried over to the thick, oak door, opening it.

In marched Erec’s chief steward, bowing quickly, looking frazzled.

“Your grace,” he said.

Erec laughed.

“It’s too early in the morning to be harried,” Erec said. “You must learn to pace yourself.”

The steward shook his head.

“Too many matters of court pressing, I’m afraid,” he replied.

Entering behind him was Alistair’s lady in waiting, a kind, portly woman in her fifties.

“Your grace,” she said, then turned to Alistair. “My Queen.”

“Forgive me, your grace,” the steward said, “but there are many pressing matters of court to attend to.”

“And what matters can be so pressing before the sun has even risen?” Erec asked.

“Well, let us see,” the steward said, checking a scroll. “There are matters of the treasury. Matters of the wedding preparations; matters of the reconstruction; matters of the training grounds; matters of our soldiers and armor and weaponry and supplies; matters of ports; of broken ships; matters of agriculture; matters of…”

Erec put up a hand.

“I shall come,” he said. “But I shall not sit in another meeting past midday. I want to get out and plan the Royal Hunt.”

“Very well, your grace,” the steward said, bowing.

“My lady,” Alistair’s attendant said, coming up beside her, “there are many queenly matters for you, as well. There are new designs for you to review of all the new buildings and orchards; there are wedding dressed to be examined; there are matters of entertainment—”

Alistair raised a hand.

“Whatever you need,” she said, bracing herself for another long day of court matters.

Erec waved them both off.

“Please leave us,” he said. “Let us get dressed and we will follow.”

They both bowed and hurried from the room, and Erec turned to Alistair with an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” he said. “The days come upon us too quickly.”

Alistair leaned in and kissed him, and as Erec turned to get dressed, Alistair turned the opposite way and drifted back out onto the balcony. She stood there alone, at the open-air arched stone entrance, looking out over the island. Standing here, looking down, it was even more beautiful, more perfect, the fresh breeze caressing her face.

I love this place, she thought. With all my heart, I really do. Please, God, never take it away from me.

“But how do I know he’s genuine?” came the question.

Alistair turned and saw Dauphine sitting beside her, asking the same question for the third time, as Alistair stood there, arms out, getting fitted for her wedding dress. Attending her were all her ladies-in-waiting, Dauphine and her mother-in-law-to-be among them, getting outfitted in their own dresses as they joined her on this joyous occasion. They all stood on a marble plaza, high up on a plateau overlooking the countryside, all the girls giggling, happy.

“Alistair?”

As Alistair looked back at Dauphine, lost in thought, she marveled at how much their relationship had changed. Every day over the last moon cycle, Dauphine had sought out her company, had nearly clung to her side, having become more than a sister-in-law-to-be: she was now also a best friend. Dauphine confided everything in her, seeing her, clearly, as the sister she’d never had, and oddly enough, Dauphine was now even closer to Alistair than she had been to Erec. They had become nearly inseparable over the last moon, and Alistair marveled over the twists and turns of life. She could not help but remember back to when she had first arrived on the islands, and Dauphine would not even look at her. Now, she not only had Dauphine’s respect, she had her love.

“You never answered me!” Dauphine said.

“I’m sorry,” Alistair said, snapping out of it. “What was the question?”

Dauphine sighed in exasperation. “Weddings really do make brides air-headed! I’ll ask again: how do I know if he’s genuine?”

Alistair remembered now. Dauphine had been going on about her new suitor, a famed knight from the lower regions of the Southern Isles, who had been wooing her intensely the entire past moon cycle.

“Last night, he took me on a boat ride beneath the moonlight,” Dauphine said. “He professes his love for me daily. And now he asks for my hand in marriage.”

“And why shouldn’t he?” her mother said.

Dauphine sighed.

“Why shouldn’t he?” she repeated. “It has hardly been one moon cycle!”

“Any honorable men would not need more than one moon cycle to know if he loves you,” her mother said.

Dauphine turned to Alistair.

“Please,” she implored. “Tell me.”

Alistair examined her, seeing how in love Dauphine was.

“Do you feel that he loves you?” Alistair asked.

Dauphine nodded, her eyes aglow.

“With my entire heart.”

“And do you love him back?”

Dauphine nodded, tears in her eyes.

“More than I can say.”

“Well then, you have answered it yourself. You have a great blessing.”

“But isn’t it all too soon?” she asked. “How do I know if he’s genuine?”

Alistair thought it over carefully.

“When the time comes you won’t need to ask the question,” she said. “You will know.”

“And will you accept his proposal?” her mother asked sharply.

Dauphine reddened and looked down.

“I… don’t know yet,” she replied.

Finally, Dauphine fell silent, lost in her own thoughts, and Alistair looked out at the countryside, enjoying the views of the vineyards and orchards spread out amongst the cliffs, the distant glimmer of the sparkling ocean. She could not get enough of this place. She felt her attendants wrapping the lace on her wrists and arms, fitting her perfectly, and she was getting more and more excited for the big day.

A sudden cool breeze wisped by, and as Alistair looked out at the horizon, she noticed a darkening of clouds hiding the brilliant sun, a shade passing over all of them, before the sun revealed itself again. Alistair didn’t know why, but in that moment, she felt something dark, a premonition, almost a vision. It had to do with her brother. Thorgrin. She suddenly felt him in a very, very dark place. And the feeling chilled her bones.

“Alistair?” Dauphine and asked. “What’s wrong?”

Alistair, still staring out at the horizon, shook her head quickly.

“It is nothing,” she said. “Nothing at all.”

But Alistair could not stop watching the horizon. She sensed danger. She caught her breath, feeling numb with terror, as she sensed dark things on the horizon, and as she sensed her brother, Thorgrin, entering a land of death.