Gwaynn was not old enough to have any heirs of ruling age, nor were there any direct cousins. Arnot, Gwaynn’s father, was actually the youngest of three boys, and the lone male survivor; his eldest brother died of a rotting disease almost a decade ago and the second in childhood. Arnot did have an older sister still alive, Anitra. She was the eldest of the brood and in Gwaynn’s mind, nearly ancient. She was married, but barren, with no children, and she’d never shown any desire for courtly life. She was currently living out her life peacefully up on the finger outside the city of Heron. Her husband operated a prosperous fishing fleet in his younger days but he’d since sold that off and they were both living comfortably off the profits. Gwaynn had happy memories of visiting his Aunt, but few of them actually involved her, instead they were of Gwynn and the excitement of seeing the rough seas that continuously pounded the beaches up near the tip of the finger; no Anitra, at her age, would not be a good candidate to rule Massi even if she wanted such a thing.
But it was up to Gwaynn to decide, and as High King he could give whatever decision he made, legitimacy. All through the evening the people of Massi celebrated with vast quantities of food and drink and though many posed the question of who would rule over the land to the new High King, Gwaynn always declined any comment. Tar Nev, who surprisingly joined in the revelry, watched the new King with a constant smile, knowing that he’d chosen his student well.
Underneath the open sky, the people of Massi danced, drank and rejoiced in their freedom and good fortune. The air was very crisp but the celebration was ringed by a half dozen large bonfires that threw off a surprisingly large amount of light and heat, so most were very comfortable. Gwaynn, as High King, had little time for rest and was hauled out to dance by many a young maid. Samantha too, took a few turns, but being so far along with child she tired quickly and had to take many breaks. But surprisingly, Samantha did not feel any jealousy towards the other ladies who quickly jumped in to take her place, not even when Vio Valencia held Gwaynn a bit too close. It helped to know that on the morrow she would be Gwaynn’s bride…his Queen…the High Queen. She could be gracious and share her man…just a little. She suddenly ached for her father, wondering what he would make of her wedding…of her soon to be husband. But deep inside she knew her father would approve. How could he not?
“He has chosen his queen well,” said a voice to her right and Samantha looked over just as Tar Nev dropped into a chair at her side. Samantha colored slightly at the compliment, awed by the presence of the infamous Tar.
“My thoughts exactly,” she answered with a grin and Nev laughed loud and easy.
“I was thinking of my father,” she explained. “Of how I’m sure he would have approved of the match.”
Nev nodded. “Wise man, your father and a good husband. It was easy to see he adored Beth…your mother. And he was a master brewer.”
“You…you knew my father and mother?” Samantha asked, believing he was playing with her.
“Oh yes…Jon, my brother, always talked highly of Master Thomas Fultan but cursed him when he won the brewing contests, but then Jon was always a bit of a sore loser.”
“Jon?”
“Jon Baal,” Nev replied.
“Jon Baal!” Samantha repeated excitedly. “He’s your brother!” Jon Baal was a well known brewer, one her father always talked of with fondness and obvious respect.
Nev chuckled. “Mmmm yes, and is he going to be upset he missed this celebration.”
Samantha laughed then. “Father always said the greatest miracle in life was that Jon Baal could brew his ale faster than he drank it.”
Nev laughed again and then stood. “I believe you’ve rested enough,” he said and offered her his hand. “I would like to dance with our future High Queen.”
Samantha smiled and allowed herself to be taken out onto the field that served as the dance floor and was utterly surprised by the grace of the bushy haired master.
She danced a long while with Nev and entire time he smiled down at her. Surprisingly she didn’t tire and even seemed to grow stronger while in his arms. It was odd and she even felt a hint of melancholy as he finally passed her off to others, but her energy remained high and she danced with many, many partners. She danced with Tar Kostek and Endid, Lonogan Bock, Van Valencia, Jeffery Gaston, young Olney Hawser, three times with Prince Phillip and once with his Weapons Master…and of course with the ever faithful Cobb…and then there was Gwaynn. She danced with him first and she danced with him last, just as the large fires that lit the celebration were finally dying out in the early hours of the morning.
“Come let’s put you to bed,” Gwaynn whispered and led her away from a group of merrymakers. Everyone remaining extolled them to stay but they were ignored. By the time they reached their room Samantha could barely keep her eyes open. It was late and she was exhausted.
“That was fun,” she said softly as Gwaynn helped her out of her dress. She dropped on the bed and pulled up the covers, still in her slip.
“I’m glad you liked it,” Gwaynn answered as he crawled in next to her. “We get to do it all over again tomorrow.” But tomorrow they would do it as husband and wife.
ǂ
“No…there are two in Deutzani,” Nev corrected lightly, three days later. He’d let Gwaynn enjoy a few days of marital bliss, but now it was time to gain control of the land and begin his reign. Nev was eager to be off, but he could manage to at least wait until all Gwaynn’s enemies were at heel and the land was at peace…then be damned with the place!
They were out on the plains in front of the main gates of Manse, a large group of the most powerful people in the land. There were seven Tars of Noble, plus another four students and four Travelers of Light, plus Gwaynn, Bock and Captain Gaston.
“Where?” Tar Endid asked, ready to be at them.
“One in Malche and another up north in Naught…she’s working with Prince Avaal and causing trouble all along the Cassinni border,” Nev explained.
“So do we hit them first?” N’dori asked.
“We hit them first,” both Gwaynn and Nev said in unison.
Nev laughed. “My apologies your Highness,” he added with a slight bow of his head. “However I think it would be wise if you would sit this one out.”
Gwaynn frowned deeply. He did not want to lose out on his revenge against the Executioners. His soul demanded restitution for the crimes they committed.
Nev held up a hand, reading these very thoughts in the young King. “The bulk of the Executioners are on King’s Island, including Nacht. You’ll have your due, but those few which are scattered about in the lands do not warrant an all out attack led by the High King. Stay here. Take the time to get Massi’s affairs in order. I take it you’ve someone in mind to rule the land?”
Gwaynn nodded and struggled to keep his eyes from Lonogan’s.
“Then let the lucky soul know about your decision. It’s only fair. We can handle these few killers of Sinis without you,” Nev finished, his eyes twinkling with some unknown amusement. “And I promise you can lead the attack to take back the King’s…your island.”