Chapter Sixteen: A Queen Betrayed
Tranith Argan: Book 2
Felanar has led his armies to Shanaar. Meanwhile back in Tranith Argan, uneasy lies the head of state.
Kara felt uneasy. After having teased her brother about how it felt sitting on the throne, she now acknowledged that it was not easy. She shifted in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position on the hard surface. She looked around the room, and up to the soaring ceiling, and felt ridiculous. Here she was, this little person, surrounded by all this magnificence, and yet she was no different from the young woman who used to sit in the corner of the Slumbering Dragon in Brindledown. Whereas then people looked at her with mistrust, now she was hailed as a queen of the land. Even little Brindledown was under her control now, she thought with a laugh. Perhaps when Jalek saw her again, he might slow down enough from carrying his mugs of ale to bow down to her. What an absurd thought!
For months now Kara had showed strength and courage, but underlying it all was a fear of inadequacy. Bren had taught her that leadership meant taking the lead, that by the very act of leading others she would be perceived as a leader. She knew this and had thus far attributed it to success. Yet to herself, in a place so secret no one knew of its existence, she felt as if she were playing a part. And she was. Queen she may legitimately be, she thought as she sat on the throne, but the role is new to me. I have no instinctive knowledge of how to act. I am playing a part and hoping no one sees my indecision. I must be strong.
Kara felt unease also for Felanar. She had a strong intuition that he was being manipulated. It wasn’t like him to go rushing off like that. Felanar had always been cautious. Yet once he was hailed as a great and decisive ruler, he becomes this impetuous warrior, ready to charge blindly into the abyss. There was something wrong, she thought, something out of place. He is being led on somehow, for this is not his true nature. If only I can place my finger on it, it would all make sense. The manipulation would become clear, not just some vague unease in my soul. Or maybe he is only playing a part too, she sighed, and doing his best to act the leader. Your imagination is getting the better of you, she thought, and sat up straight on the throne.
This morning, the overcast morning when Felanar first set off from Tranith Argan, was spent with matters of state that were of little importance, and less interest to Kara. She met with officials and leaders, and dealt with questions of a dispute between shopkeepers. As inconsequential as this was, it was a relief to Kara in a sense. It allowed her to focus on mundane matters and not worry about the invasion. She tried to give careful consideration to each question that was posed to her and to give reasoned responses. She had no idea if she was carrying out her queenly duties the way a queen normally would, but on the whole she found that all it really took was a bit of common sense and impartiality. And to act the leader. If this is what being a queen was like, she thought, she had little to fear of her own inadequacies.
A midday meal was served in the dining hall, and she ate alone, with only servants scurrying back and forth to clear plates and cups. The food was good, she thought. Fancy creams and garnishes gave the meal a festive touch, but the garnishes seemed unnecessary, and the meal was heavy on meats, with few fruits and vegetables. Evidently they were used to Anarth’s appetite. Kara would have to instruct the kitchen staff to put less emphasis on meats. Meals a bit more elven would be more to her taste.
The afternoon began as the morning had ended, with a dispute to settle. She was just finishing up when loud footsteps, and many of them, were heard approaching the throne room. Kara looked at the doors as they swung open, to reveal Anarth, Canar, and a troop of High Guards behind them. They marched into the room and came to a stop several feet in front of the throne.
“Yes, Anarth?” asked Kara. “What is the matter you wish to bring to my attention?” She felt a much stronger sense of unease at the sight of High Guards behind Canar. Where was Ravesfel?
“The matter,” Anarth said carefully, emphasizing each word as he spoke, “is of your lineage. We have come to know your true nature, and it is not that of a queen.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Kara, anger rising within her.
“Just that – impostor – Low woman!” said Canar with malice. “You are no queen, and for the crime of impersonating a royal we hereby place you under arrest!”
Kara rose from the throne in alarm. She was furious now and let it show, now that the treachery she had intuited was manifest.
“Guards! Arrest this man!” she yelled, pointing at Canar.
The guards shifted their feet uneasily, but otherwise did not move. Seeing which way this was to go, Kara took a deep breath and spoke to Anarth.
“Why do you make this accusation?” she demanded. “I am no impostor, and neither is my brother. You heard Ravesfel. You have seen the parchment that gives our history.”
“A forgery,” said Canar simply, his eyes narrowing.
“Who do you accuse of this crime, this forgery you speak of?” In that moment, her bulb of doubt blossomed in the furthest reaches of her mind. Could they be speaking the truth? Was she a Low woman after all?
“Ravesfel is responsible, and he will be dealt with in due time,” said Anarth with coldness in his voice. “Guards, seize her!”
As the High Guards stepped forward to take Kara, she grabbed her sword from its sheath.
“Halt! I will slay the first man that dares set foot on this throne!”
The guards hesitated, uncertain of the strength and skill of this woman who seemed so sure of herself. Anarth looked at Kara with surprise, but Canar seemed to expect this response and had a rebuttal ready.
“Will you kill each of the guards in turn,” he asked, “one by one as they step forward under direct orders of the regent? Will you be the first in history to shed blood in this room? Will you take on the entire army? Is that how you envision your escape, my dear?”
Kara stared at Canar, her eyes focusing her hatred on this cunning man. As she did so, however, she knew he was right. There were twenty guards before the throne; she couldn’t slay all of them. Even if she did, of what use would it be? If the people were convinced by Anarth that she was a fraud, where could she turn for support? Furthermore, what if it was true, this talk of forgery by Ravesfel? Could it be that she really wasn’t of royal lineage? If that were true, it would be pointless to shed blood to hang onto something that did not belong to her.
“What I do now, I do in the name of justice, if any be found in this palace,” she said with measured words and a stony face.
Kara slowly placed her sword into its sheath, and stepped down the steps of the throne. Her belt and sword were taken from her. One of the guards bound her hands behind her back as Anarth eagerly climbed back onto the throne he so loved. She saw in his face all the motivation she needed to know. He was like a child reunited with a toy thought lost. He sat down eagerly and closed his eyes with a look of pure delight. As Kara was led away, she felt disgust at his selfishness. Even if the accusations were true, where was his sense of justice? Did he really think they plotted some scheme to get the throne away from him? Did he not know how little they felt worthy of this throne in the first place? A greedy old man, she thought, as the doors to the room slammed shut.
As if in a dream, Kara was led down the hallway, and down several levels of stairs, until they came to the dungeons. This was the first time she had descended to this level, and she realized for the first time that she was to be a prisoner. Shrinking in horror from the dishonor it implied, she struggled with her captors, but they clamped down harder and forced her forward. Coming to a rusty iron door with a thin eye slat, one guard unlocked it while another removed her bindings. Holding her tight, two guards forced her into the cell and the door shut behind her with a dull clang. In the course of a few minutes, her entire life had been turned upside down.
Kara’s mind raced for a few moments, and then she told herself to calm down and focus. She forced her mind to look at her surroundings and take inventory of the situation. The cell was small, perhaps six feet by five feet. There was a small pile of hay on one side, old straw that was damp and dirty. The floor was the same stone as the rest of the palace, as were the walls. There was a small, narrow window near the ceiling, from which a little light entered the cell. If she stood on her toes, Kara could just look out. All she saw was the overcast sky, however.
Kara sat on the floor, feeling foolish to be dressed as a queen in her royal white garments on such a dirty floor. Some queen she was! Felanar is gone less than a day and the kingdom is overthrown. Thinking of Felanar being less than a day’s journey distant, yet inexorably heading in the opposite direction, made Kara deeply melancholic. She buried her head in her knees, and began to weep softly.
Her head was still bowed a short while later she heard the door to the cell open. Looking up, tears still on her cheeks, she was heartened to see Ravesfel being allowed in to see her. As the door slammed behind him, Kara jumped up from the floor and hugged the old man. He hugged her in return and patted her on the back gently.
“I see you have been crying, my dear,” he said softly. “It breaks my heart to see you thus.”
She looked at him with fresh tears in her eyes.
“What is happening, Ravesfel? Oh, I’ve thrown everything away! I’m queen for less than a day and the kingdom is overthrown!”
“You have a greater sense of fair play than the regent does, I’m afraid. Your sense of justice led you to accept the possibility that you were in the wrong, and so your self-doubt allowed you to lower your defenses. Never mind, though, for it would have been to no avail even if you had fought back. You did the right thing, under the circumstances. Please do not berate yourself, Kara.”
“They called you a traitor, Ravesfel,” she said, breathing hard. “They said you forged the documents that proved our lineage.”
“I did not forge those documents!” he said sharply. “All that I told you was true. Canar has allowed his ambition to cloud his judgment.”
“Then I am queen?” she sniffed.
“Indeed you are,” he said quietly.
“Then let us leave this cell and put right to wrong,” she said forcefully, her confidence restored. She then hesitated, for the guardian’s eyes seemed full of pain, and she wondered now if he was a prisoner too.
“We can leave, can we not?” she asked. “You have not been taken prisoner too, have you?”
“No, no, I am no prisoner, Kara,” he said softly, looking down at the ground. “However, I’m afraid for a time you must be.”
Kara swallowed hard as her heart sank. What did this mean?
“Ravesfel,” she said fearfully, “look me in the eye. What are you telling me?”
The old guardian looked up, and he looked older at this moment than Kara could ever remember seeing him. He looked ancient beyond days, and full of a deep, deep sadness. He actually had a tear in his eye, something Kara had never seen before. When he finally spoke, he did so in a voice barely audible.
“I’m so very sorry, my dear. If there were any other way, I would spare you any hurt or pain. I have a genuine affection for both you and Felanar, and I wanted things to turn out differently. I am sad to say that things have turned out badly, and now it is up to me to fix things in the end. You find yourself as but a pawn in a larger game played by powerful players. Being in this cell is probably the safest place for you at this time, for much blood will be shed before things are set right again.”
“Are you to keep me here, then?” Kara asked incredulously. “You, the guardian of the throne are to imprison the rightful heir of the throne? Do you think that Felanar will stand for this when he returns?”
“That’s the very point of it, Kara,” Ravesfel said sadly. “He will not be returning.”
“What! How do you know this? Speak!” Kara’s concern for her own safety vanished behind a cloud of worry for her brother.
“I have just received word from some spies I had sent out, and the news is bad. I thought Vélakk could be defeated by our forces, for although the Argan scouts are wrong in their assessment, they are right enough to carry the day. Yes, you heard me correctly, I knew the scout reports were wrong. Vélakk has more strength than you know, and his attack on this city was but a feint. He set a trap, and yet I allowed Felanar to walk into it. Why? Because even with Vélakk’s true strength, Felanar leads a force strong enough to defeat him in the end. Felanar had a chance, after all, and thus I allowed him to follow his inclination. You may remember, I was neutral on this decision.”
“What do you mean he ‘had’ a chance?” she asked, ignoring his hint of self-justification.
“I have received fresh reports just this afternoon, terrible reports,” he said. “Something I had not anticipated is going to occur. The autarch of the Tri-Cities of Shakaart is sending troops to aid Vélakk. A military alliance has been formed, and western ships are even now sailing to Shanaar to reinforce Vélakk’s troops. Felanar could lead his army to victory over Vélakk, but he will never succeed against both armies.”
“So you are allowing him to march to his death?” Kara cried out. “Have you no feeling?”
“I have feelings for both of you, but my primary concern must be to the safety of this kingdom. That supersedes any personal feelings I may have. Yes, Felanar leads his army to defeat, but in so doing he will cripple Vélakk. If I call him back now, Vélakk will send his army to us, joined with the western fleet, and then death and destruction will come to our very door, and Tranith Argan may not survive. This way, Vélakk will be weakened, and his land devastated. The western powers will be lessened also, and we can have a chance to destroy our enemies utterly. We will be in a position of strength then, and can quickly build up our forces while Vélakk picks up the pieces of his victory. All I have to do is prevent Anarth from ruining this plan, and falling into another of his periods of inactivity.”
“You are the guardian . . .” Kara said, her voice trailing off in sadness.
“Yes, the guardian of Tranith Argan,” he said, his voice rising in anger. “For how many centuries have I counseled the kings of this throne, and then the regents, and seen my words thrown away! How much suffering has resulted from the foolish choices made by you short-lived people! Enough is enough! If I have to rule this throne myself, I will do so in order to save it.”
Kara looked at him with wide eyes.
“You, rule the throne?” she said in horror. “Did you not say it was forbidden to seize power? Is this not how Vélakk began, thinking he could rule better than men?”
Ravesfel waved his hand dismissively. “Toramin was a fool of a regent. He sought power for its own sake, seduced by the throne, and thus became the evil Vélakk. I do not seek power. You know me better than that, Kara. I merely seek an end to the conflict. I want peace for your people, and if it takes an iron hand to bring that peace, instead of the elderly fool we have now in Anarth, or the inexperience we have in your brother, then I will take that chance. Do not worry, I will never turn evil as Vélakk did.”
“You already have,” she said sadly, hanging her head in sorrow for her lost friend.
Ravesfel jumped sharply at her words, and then composed himself.
“You are emotional from this treatment. As I said, I did not wish this to be the outcome, but now that it has happened, it is best that you remain here for a short time. I promise you, however, that no harm will come to you. I will see to it that you are set free soon, and you may return to your village and live in peace. I have no quarrel with you, Kara. You are an innocent, caught in the grand scheme that is moving inexorably toward a finish. You have done nothing wrong, my dear, and you will have your life to live as you wish. I desire no evil to befall you.”
“It is too late for that,” she said bitterly. “Is this treatment not evil enough? Is not sending my brother to die evil enough? Ravesfel, Ravesfel, if only you could hear yourself. Can you not see how power has already corrupted you?”
“You have many emotions right now,” he said soothingly. “Please understand that I take this action as a last resort. I think when all is done you will find that I took the best action for Tranith Argan under the circumstances. We live in evil times, Kara, and strong action is needed if we are not to be swept away!”
“Better to be swept away by evil than to become evil itself,” Kara said, staring at the guardian with hatred. “The Findára will not allow this treachery to continue. Llarand will oppose you!”
“I think not,” said Ravesfel. “Llarand is a sensible person, and I think he will see the advantage my way brings. He may not care for the particulars, but the outcome will benefit both elf and men. He will not prove much of a problem, and there are some elf lords that will applaud my actions. I think Elaria will remain our ally.”
“There you are wrong, Ravesfel. I fear for you, for you have been seduced by power. There may yet be hope for you, but either way the elves will not support such an action. It is too cruel, too unloving. The elves are nothing if not nurturing. This will be seen as a gross act of rebellion.”
Ravesfel stared at Kara steadily, thinking about her words carefully. He started to speak, and then caught himself. He looked long at the ground before he finally spoke.
“Perhaps it will, I cannot say with certainty. It may well be that I am making a mistake in this. Time will tell, and if there is one thing I have plenty of, it is time. In the meanwhile, however, I have work to do. Action is called for, and a kingdom to be strengthened. I will have to deal with the regent and his advisors now, and it may be time for some more of my power to be revealed. Take care of yourself, my dear. Try not to think too badly of this old man, for I really am trying to do what is best. And I am truly sorry for your mistreatment. You did nothing to deserve it.”
“Spare me your kind words undermined by cruel actions,” she said. “It is not your place to make such decisions. I order you to release me!”
“And I must reject such an order for the good of the throne. You are but a child. I know better, and I will act with my greater knowledge. I’m sorry. Fare well.”
He knocked on the door and it was opened by a guard. Stepping outside the cell, Ravesfel glanced back at Kara who stared at him without any emotion but pity. He turned suddenly and walked away, and the door slammed shut. Kara stared at the door for a few moments, and then quietly said, “I am not your dear any longer.”