Pawns and Queens--A 15th Century Gwynedd Story--Chapter Thirty

[Evie]

Previous chapter: https://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,3258.0.html


Chapter Thirty

September 14, 1464
Outside the walls of Rhemuth
Bishopsgate
Morning

As Rémy fell, Cinhil felt a momentary wave of dizziness, but the moment passed. Swiftly, he knelt by the man's side, plunging a tendril of his mind into his brother-by-marriage's decaying shields, pushing past his own revulsion at the sordid thoughts and memories that Rémy's mind contained as he rapidly sifted through them to find the object of his search. It felt like trying to find a lost jewel in a cesspit bare-handed, except that a cesspit would not normally be trying to disintegrate rapidly as one worked.

At last, just barely in time, Cinhil found what he was looking for. He withdrew from Rémy's mind with a shudder, rising to his feet. He felt suddenly tired, though whether that was just the natural fatigue to be expected from having participated in a Duel Arcane or if that was a sign that the powerful boost of energy derived from the previous night's Empowerment ritual was starting to wane, he knew not, but at least he had managed to complete what he'd set out to do.

Cinhil raised his hands high, gathered the residual swirling energies from their magical workings back into himself, focused his intent, then swept both hands stretched out to either side and down, sweeping the sides of the energy dome down with them.

As the King of Gwynedd emerged in victory, a resounding cheer sounded from the onlookers standing on the walls of Rhemuth, soon echoed by the additional cheers and jubilation of the people within the safety of those walls who, having heard the glad tidings, felt a resurgence of hope. The news spread to the Cathedral, where the bells soon erupted in peals of joy.

Outside those walls, the four Council Arbitrators who had overseen the duel crossed over to flank King Cinhil, the Banoidhre Aoife slipping off her white and golden mantle to place it around Cinhil's shoulders. Lord Da'ud lifted him onto a white R'Kassi stallion, Cinhil taking the reins from him as men from the Rhemuth garrison rode out to join him.

Together, they rode towards the Jouvian lines. The men of Joux murmured fearfully, some bracing their courage and remaining to accept their fate, but many of them, terrified by the promised judgment to come, attempted to rout. Lord Alexei lifted his white staff, intending to bring the full power of the Camberian Council to bear, forcefully enforcing the terms that the Jouvian Prince had agreed upon, but soldiers from the other enemy armies swiftly surrounded the Jouvian contingent in their midst, summarily putting to the sword any who attempted to flee.

#

King Cinhil left the matter of dealing with the Jouvian troops to his garrison, those soldiers swiftly disarming the enemy combatants and binding their wrists behind their backs, though treating the Jouvians with far more respect than many of them had shown towards their own prisoners in the fields of war. The Councilors remained a little longer, keeping a wary eye on the other enemy troops, for while they felt King Torval at least could be trusted to maintain the usual conventions of war, they were less certain about Queen Ingrid and her son, and some of the Eistenmarckers appeared eager to fall upon both the Jouvians and the Gwyneddans while the opportunity presented itself. But as the garrison and their prisoners began to fall back, entering the City through the Bishopgate, Cinhil returned to the middle ground with the Council members, returning Lord Da'ud's stallion, as his King's Champion had returned, leading another mount brought from his own stable. After assisting the King into the saddle, Morgan swung himself up into his own, riding towards Rhemuth's gates beside him, Aoife of Llyr to Cinhil's left, as the remaining Gwyneddans and their guests returned to the safety of the walls.

"Well done, mo bhràthair!" murmured the Heiress of Llyr. "I had no idea you were such an accomplished poet. Clearly you missed your true calling."

Cinhil grinned. "I only regret that Rémy didn't allow me to finish. I had a few more verses lined up. Alixa had a few brilliant ones of her own."

"I am very glad that you had at least one more miracle left in you. How in the hell are you still ambulatory, my friend? I had heard you were on your deathbed."

"I still am, Aoife. I'm living on borrowed time, and today's energy will come at great cost soon enough. Though I am glad to see you one last time."

"Is my sister still in residence here?" asked Aoife. "I had hoped to see Saoirse before I go."

"She is. She is assisting with Cécile of Joux's Healing and training, as I'm certain Lord Geoffrey has informed all of you by now. And I think she is also taking some more advanced studies in the Healer Arts at the Cathedral Schola."

"And how much danger does my sister's unexpected new gift place her in?" Aoife asked. "I am certain she is not being retained here under the same circumstances as Joux's...unexpectedly gifted Healer, yet Saoirse is not one to remain happy being kept behind closed walls for long."

"I am aware," Cinhil said with a sigh. "I am hoping if we can bring this war to a swift end, the sooner she will be safe wherever she may decide to go next. We are doing our best to minimize the number of people who know about her special talent. But speaking of that, I know where Joux's person of unexpected talent can be found now."

"That's what you were trying to find in your Death Reading?" Aoife grimaced. "I wondered what you wanted to poke around in that filthy cesspit for."

"I have a man on that side of the Southern Sea attempting to find and rescue him," Cinhil said. "If I share the knowledge with you, can you get it to him and offer assistance?"

"That's what I love about you, Cinhil, you keep life interesting. I would be delighted."

As they reached the entrance to Bishopgate, the cheers of the people became a loud roar. "God save the King! Long live the King!" they shouted. The King and those with him rode through the City gate and up the King's Way towards the Castle gatehouse accompanied by the jubilant celebration of the people of Rhemuth.

#

September 14, 1464
Rhemuth Castle
The upper bailey
Late Morning

The King stood just outside the stables in the upper bailey, grooming his own horse, for it had been his favorite horse that Joscelin Morgan had sent for as soon as he saw Cinhil mounted on his borrowed steed, and the head groom of the royal stables had quickly had it saddled and ridden to the city gate to be made available for his former rider's use one last time.

"Farewell, old friend," Cinhil whispered as he gave the gelding a few final strokes of the brush before accepting the apple Balian had fetched for him, offering it to the horse. Glancing at Colin's son, he said, "Moonlight was my first horse, once my father decided I had gotten too old to ride a pony. He's very gentle, but he can be a little bit stubborn. Can't you, old boy?" He gave the horse an affectionate pat on the neck. "He'll be a bit too old for my daughter, once she's old enough to move up to a horse from a pony, if he's even still around by then, but I think he's still got a few good years left in him if you think you can keep him exercised. But you'll need to learn how to take good care of him. Do you think you are ready for the responsibility of a horse?"

His page's eyes went huge. "I think so, Sire."

"All right, then." He handed Moonlight over to the groom. "Let's go find your father and see what he thinks. Even if he thinks you need to wait a year or two longer, Moonlight should still be here for you when you're ready."

#

September 14, 1464
Rhemuth Castle
The lower bailey
Early afternoon

The King and Prince Nicholas walked through the parklands of the lower bailey, enjoying the bright autumn day. The weather was sunny and fair, and it had grown warm enough that Cinhil no longer needed the light mantle he had worn earlier that morning.

"How are you feeling?" Colin asked as they walked towards St. Hilary's Basilica, for Cinhil wanted to visit the small chapel dedicated to Saint Camber one last time. It had been his favorite hidden part of the castle compound as a boy.

"A bit tired," Cinhil answered, "though not alarmingly so. It feels nice to be outdoors. I'm so tired of seeing my bedchamber walls day after day." He stopped for a moment on the pathway, causing Colin to momentarily worry that his brother had grown too fatigued to continue despite his statement that he was just a little tired, but then he saw Cinhil's attention was directed towards the practice field. "Is that your wife wearing desert robes?" the King asked.

Colin sighed. "Yes. At least now that she's carrying my heir, I've got her to stop letting the pages whack on her, but she still insists on helping them out with their pell and archery practice."

Cinhil's lips twitched as he took in his brother's exasperated expression. "Sometimes you need to be kept in line. I wonder if Catalina can take you?"

Colin laughed. "Any time she'd like, just not in that way." They continued onward, Colin offering Cinhil a steadying hand as they reached the downward slope leading onto the Basilica grounds.

"She's been an invaluable help these past few months," Cinhil said. "Are you still upset about being asked to marry?"

Colin chuckled, "As I recall, brother, I wasn't asked, I was ordered. But no, I have no regrets now." He paused, a slight shadow crossing his face. "At least, not about the marriage."

"About Mellie?" Cinhil guessed.

Colin nodded. "I'm still trying to work out the best way to handle things that will cause the least amount of hurt. I think she already realizes our relationship can't go back to how it was before. I'm just still trying to figure out how to balance my family's needs in the future, including hers, because Mellie will always be family to me." They reached the Basilica door, Colin opening it to let the King pass through first.

They walked through the nave together, both men genuflecting towards the altar before turning towards the small room where the hidden entrance to Saint Camber's chapel could be found.

#

September 14, 1464
Rhemuth Castle
The Garden Conservatory
Late afternoon

"So, this is where all the magic happened?" Princess Elisa's eldest brother teased.

She laughed, blushing. "Oh, I was already pretty certain I wanted to get to know Alarikos better, but that afternoon when Catalina hosted that musical reception, I was convinced he was the one."

"And he hasn't managed to disabuse you of that notion in his brief visits since then?" Cinhil asked.

Elisa shook her head. "No. Quite the contrary."

Cinhil smiled at his baby sister. "You've matured a fair bit these past few months. How are those lessons with Lord Riordan coming along?"

She wrinkled her nose. "He's tough but fair, and I'm learning a lot. It's gotten much easier lately; I'm not sure why."

"The more of a foundation you already have, the easier it is to build upon. Plus, I would imagine you are more motivated to study than you used to be, now that you've got a purpose named Alarikos."

Elisa laughed. "True." She looked around the hothouse. "I'm going to miss this place when the war is over and I move to Beldouria." She pointed to a potting table. "That's where Camber found his cat, or rather where Richeldis and I discovered her when Camber hid her in here to keep her from being spotted by Maman." She laughed. "Alixa was with us too, as I recall."

Cinhil smiled. "Yes, she told me about that."

Elisa's smile faded. "I wish Richeldis were here. And also Miranda." She looked anxiously at her brother, because despite their seemingly casual conversation in this garden filled with memories, she had been informed that Cinhil's newfound energy would not last for much longer, and that the Duel he had survived that morning would bring about the inevitable hastening of his death.

"I do too, but it is not particularly safe for them here, even with this brief lull in the hostilities. Quite honestly, I'm a little surprised the Eistenmarckers haven't started lobbing heads at us again. Hopefully they're not just out hunting for more." He sighed. "Keep up your work, Elisa. It's still needed." He drew her in for a quick hug, planting a kiss on her hair. "I have messages for our other sisters in my bedchamber. Alixa knows where they can be found. I trust you will see them delivered for me when you can?"

"I will," she whispered, hugging him tightly before looking around the conservatory again, desperate for some happier thought to grab onto to chase away her sorrow. "There's where Alarikos and I sat and talked that afternoon," she said, pointing out the spot, "and there's where Richeldis was doing her best to keep Philippe interested while trying to dodge King Dafydd." Elisa giggled. "And that corner is where Alarikos first kis–" She broke off suddenly, blushing and looking guiltily up at Cinhil.

Her brother laughed. "Oh, did he, now? Cheeky git! I will trust that's all he did, in a room with glass walls."

She ducked her head, a reluctant smile turning the corners of her lips up. "No worries, my chaperone came back at just the wrong time."

#

September 14, 1464
Rhemuth Castle
Prince Camber's apartment
Evening

"You are certain this isn't going to cause your condition to deteriorate more quickly?" Camber asked as he handed his brother the glass of Old MacRorie that Cinhil had requested.

"Oh, it's probably not going to help, but it's not really going to hurt me either," Cinhil reassured him as he took a sip of the amber liquid. "At least Master James didn't seem to think so when I asked him earlier." He took a seat, waiting for Camber to sit also and absently stroking the ink-black fur of the cat that suddenly materialized on his lap before continuing on. "I am hoping that my appearance at the Duel Arcane this morning might have helped to dispel any lingering notions about Alixa's child not being fathered by me, so hopefully even if Renier happens to bring up the accusation, it will be more easily countered."

Camber nodded. "Yes. The last memory our people will have of you will be as the strong and powerful ruler that you are and have always been, even if your body sometimes acted as if it never received that dispatch. I suspect there will be far fewer questions about that now. But I have a bag packed for that journey to Grecotha if it's ever needed."

"I'm hoping it won't be. She's going to need you here, at least as much as possible while you and Colin are still dealing with our other enemies."

Camber stared into the fireplace, even though for once there was no need to light it. "She's going to need you here, and you won't be. Damn it, Cinhil, I'm not ready for this! You're only twenty-eight!"

Cinhil took another sip of his drink before looking at him with a wry smile. "Twenty-nine tomorrow. You know what I want for my thirtieth birthday, Camber?"

"What?" Camber tore his eyes from the soot-blackened stone to look at his brother.

"A kingdom at peace. Both of my brothers at peace with themselves. My Queen learning how to heal and learning how to spread her wings without constantly worrying about needing to take care of me. A daughter who is learning how to walk and who will have strong protectors to lift her up when she falters. You'll take care of my girls for me?"

Camber broke into sobs. Cinhil gathered him in his embrace.

"You're the brother I always wanted to be when we were children," Camber said through shuddering breaths once he could speak again. "I never wanted to be King, I just wanted to be you!"

"Well, I'm flattered, but I should let you know, it sucks to be the eldest. I rather envied you too."

Camber took a deep breath. "I'll take care of them, at least as much as I am able to. Alixa doesn't love me, you know. She loves you."

"Yes, she does. And she also loves you, just not yet in the same way.  Give her time to heal. Maybe that will change, maybe it won't. Either way, just be there for her."

Camber nodded. "I will."

#

September 14, 1464
Rhemuth Castle
The King's bedchamber
Evening

"You've had quite the day!" Alixa said as she helped Cinhil out of his doublet and hung it over the clothes rod. "How are you feeling?" She walked back towards him, a smile on her face but a hint of anxiety in her eyes. "Are you tired?"

He drew her close. "A little bit, but not nearly as much as I usually am, especially by this time of the evening." Cinhil kissed his wife. "How is our child?"

"She was bucking like a wild horse earlier, but she's finally calmed down a bit." As if to prove her mother wrong, the baby kicked out at that moment. Cinhil felt a tiny foot tap him in the abdomen. He laughed.

"I hope she's not hurting you!" He stepped back slightly, crouching to place a cheek against his wife's belly, receiving another tiny heel in his face and kissing the small bump visible beneath the fabric of Alixa's gown before it could recede.

"It doesn't exactly hurt, it's just very uncomfortable. I'm growing increasingly more convinced that the ninth month of pregnancy is designed to make a mother look forward to labor and delivery. I feel like...." Alixa groped for an appropriate comparison. "Like a bloated, exploding cow!"

Cinhil laughed. "Please don't explode, particularly if you're a cow. Imagine the mess that would make!"

She giggled, then tears filled her eyes. "Do you think...does Master James think you'll still be here...."

"Long enough to see her born?" At Alixa's tearful nod, he shook his head. "I don't think so. But I do intend to See our daughter, if you'll permit me."

"What do you mean?"

Cinhil sat, beckoning to her to stand in front of him. He closed his eyes, centering himself, his cheek lightly resting on Alixa's belly and his hands cradling it on either side as he entered rapport with his wife. He spent several long moments in that position, his lips curving upwards in a gentle smile, before opening his eyes again, pulling Alixa into his lap. "It looks like she has my hair, but perhaps your nose and mouth. It's hard to tell yet, but see what you think." He projected an image of their daughter into her mind. It was more sensed than truly Seen, for within the womb it was too dark to see true color so much as just psychic impressions of color, yet there was an impression of color in the vision he shared with her, the child's hair dark against fair skin, and the shapes of features readily enough discerned.

"She's beautiful!" Alixa whispered.

"Are you still struggling with the name choices?" Cinhil asked his wife. They had discarded Uthyr as an option once they realized their child would be a girl, and several more suitable names had been discussed, but none had yet been decided on, at least for their daughter's first name.

"I keep rearranging the ones we both like, but nothing else really seems to fit with them so far," Alixa said.

"I thought of one this morning," Cinhil said. "It's quite old-fashioned, so maybe you'd prefer something different, but what about Cynewyn? It means 'the King's joy.' She is, you know. And so is her mother, though it would be a little odd for me to rename you."

"Cynewyn," Alixa whispered, testing the sound of the name. "Cynewyn Haldane."

"Cynewyn Catalina Éloïse Soraya Haldane," said Cinhil, the other names inspired by Gwynedd's future Queen as well as both of their mothers.

Alixa nodded. "Cynewyn. 'The King's Joy.' I'll think of this day whenever I call her that." She kissed her husband. "Are you ready to call it a night? Or would you like to stay up a little longer?"

Cinhil gave her a slow, teasing smile. "I'm fairly sure I can stay up as long as you'd like, but Master James says there's a chance that could induce labor, with you being so close to your due date."

His wife laughed. "That was not what I meant, Cinhil Haldane, but I suppose if you'd prefer that, I'm willing to take the chance."

#

September 15, 1464
Rhemuth Castle
The Royal Chapel

Cinhil's energy level had decreased significantly overnight, so the Archbishop had been called in to administer the Last Rites, yet the King was still able to walk unassisted as long as he stopped frequently to sit and rest. Like the previous day, he refused to be stuck in his bedchamber, but after breakfast was brought up to him, helping to restore some of his flagging energy, he allowed Alixa and Joss to assist him down the stairs and into the Great Hall, with several stops to rest along the way, where he could sit at the head of his Hall and enjoy conversing with various members of his Court as they passed through. That afternoon, he spent a couple of hours with his mother, reminiscing about his younger years and the late King his father, then another couple of hours closeted with Colin and Catalina, in part to discuss matters of State, though since many such conversations had already been had prior to Colin's departure for the front, there were only a few more details to go over with them before moving on to more personal topics, Cinhil preferring to spend his remaining time with Colin as his brother rather than his King.

Now the sun had grown low in the sky, sinking below the ramparts of the castle, but Cinhil decided he would like to view one last sunset. His energies had become depleted by then, his breaths beginning to grow more labored until Master James had arrived to administer a final dose of medication that he told the King would ease his breathing and help ensure that his passing would be as pain-free and as peaceful as possible. That had been half an hour earlier, and Cinhil could sense his time was close at hand.

He called for his King's Champion. "Joss, how difficult would it be to get me to the top of the Queen's Tower?"

The Duke of Corwyn glanced at Cinhil's squires. "We can manage, Sire. We can use your chair as a litter to bring you up, or if getting you up the stairs that way is too unwieldy, they can carry it up empty, and I'll just carry you." He glanced at Cinhil's Queen.

"I'll get his cloak," she said, lifting her chin bravely.

They made their way to the top of the tower, facing Cinhil towards the setting sun, his Queen by his side and his Champion behind him. His squires stood to either side of them, helping to block the cool evening breezes. As the sun sank beneath the horizon, Cinhil took a couple of deep gasping breaths, his hand falling limp within Alixa's tender grasp as his inner senses perceived a quiet fluttering of wings. A deep sense of wellbeing filled him as he exhaled his final breath, and his soul departed from his body and entered into the warm and welcoming Light.


Pawns and Queens spin-off story #4:  https://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,3262.0.html

Next chapter: https://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,3266.0.html

[Demercia]

Thanks Evie, I'm in bits.  Beautifully done.

[revanne]

Thanks Evie, I'm in bits.  Beautifully done.

Ditto to both comments.

[DerynifanK]

This was so beautiful. What wonderful last experiences. It's a good thing I decided on a kitchen roll like Revanne because I needed it. A most touching farewell to a most amazing man. Thank you.

[JudithR]

Beautifully done. Tissues not kitchen roll for me

[Evie]

Thank you all! 🥰

This is probably the most difficult chapter I've ever written. The writing itself flowed mostly effortlessly, because Cinhil was very definite about what he wanted to do in his final hours. But those final scenes devastated me to the point that once I put the final sentence on that last scene, I could barely see the screen anymore, and I had to turn off the laptop and walk away. I couldn't possibly have moved on to the next chapter just then. I think it wasn't until the next day or two that I was able to add anything more than a few simple word edits to what had already been written. I had to sit with the grief for a little while before I could move on. Even now, months later, I'm still unable to read it without feeling like I've just ripped the bandage off a fresh wound.

And still the man won't shut up, because Cinhil doesn't let a little thing like dying stop him! So that's how you are ending up getting a spin-off story about Cinhil's earlier years on Saturday, and another five-chapter spin-off about the early days of Cinhil and Alixa's marriage and that fateful potential-setting ritual once this current story is wrapped up.

[DerynifanK]

That last sentence where his soul departs into the warm and welcoming light was one of the most beautiful and touching moments I have ever read. It was so tender. You are truly a most talented writer.

[DerynifanK]

I hope Cinhil will get his last wish for his 30th birthday and all will be well with his family and his kingdom

[Evie]

Oh, thanks for the reminder! I just added Cinhil's birthdate to my planning spreadsheet for the sequel in progress, so I can remember to add Camber's thoughts when that 30th birthday comes around.

Years ago, I tried my hand a writing a death scene or two (this was long before I started writing Deryni fanfic), but they always came off as too mawkish and melodramatic. Then I read a Star Wars novel by Aaron Allston, and I can't even recall for sure which of his Wraith Squadron books it was anymore, but one of my favorite characters died in it, and I was completely gutted. But once I'd finished that chapter, I had to go back and study carefully how Allston had written that scene to make it so moving, because it was done in such an understated way, almost detached, but still hit like a gut punch. I think that was the first time it occurred to me that when writing a super emotional scene like the death of a beloved character, sometimes less is more. So now I try to aim for that same light touch rather than wallowing in the emotions of the moment, because the more deft approach is usually more impactful.

[revanne]

In addition to the power of the scene itself, we  have come to know, love and honour Cinhil especially over the last few days of his life. And the deft use of humour only increases the pathos.

[DerynifanK]

This is extraordinary!
Cinhil was loved and respected by all who knew him including your readers. A very special person.

[DerynifanK]

Oh, thanks for the reminder! I just added Cinhil's birthdate to my planning spreadsheet for the sequel in progress, so I can remember to add Camber's thoughts when that 30th birthday comes around.

Years ago, I tried my hand a writing a death scene or two (this was long before I started writing Deryni fanfic), but they always came off as too mawkish and melodramatic. Then I read a Star Wars novel by Aaron Allston, and I can't even recall for sure which of his Wraith Squadron books it was anymore, but one of my favorite characters died in it, and I was completely gutted. But once I'd finished that chapter, I had to go back and study carefully how Allston had written that scene to make it so moving, because it was done in such an understated way, almost detached, but still hit like a gut punch. I think that was the first time it occurred to me that when writing a super emotional scene like the death of a beloved character, sometimes less is more. So now I try to aim for that same light touch rather than wallowing in the emotions of the moment, because the more deft approach is usually more impactful.

You certainly learned that lesson well. The final scene had a huge impact at least on me.

[Jerusha]

Goodbyes are hard, but Cinhil left a future for his kingdom.  Masterfully written.

[DerynifanK]

I am sad that Cinhil won't be physically present when their daughter is born but I am sure his spirit will be and Alixa will feel his love and support.

[DerynifanK]

So many farewells. But he left each person with a special memory and a way forward. Cinhil will never be forgotten