The White Rose

Brierley Lodge

We rode fast throughout the countryside until we cam to the king's royal lodge at Brierley. It was more like a small palace instead of a simple hunting lodge. It was thatched and made of stone like most lodges, but that was were the similarities ended. there were the stables, the royal muse, the kennel for the royal hounds and there near the lodge was the temple build by King  Legonne the first. The king had ridden in silence through this whole journey, withdrawn and not himself. the orders he gave his servants were in as few words as he could utter before he withdrew into his silence once more.
The servants all began to unpack and ready the lodge of the king while many of us nobility entered the temple. The Priests and Priestesses were already there long with several novices chanting prayers. When we all entered, the king at the front they all bowed, heads lowered respectfully. I had read that in religious orders one need not bow to anyone for the Gods were above any man with temporal power. He fumed, "Is it not written in your books that you need not bow." "Get on with your prayers."
Taken aback they all of course did so, the incense smoke filling the chamber with a warm pleasant smell of myrrh sandalwood, lavender, Vetiver, rosewood, cedar wood and Cyprus. He walked to the altar, head bowed with grief and collapsed before the it. He waved his hand, "Everyone out!" He thundered and we all went to obey, "Lady Kathlynne." He called, "You will stay, surely the chaperonage of several priests will have you not to scurry away." I looked to my mother and father, the count and countess who al gave-me looks before they walked out. Those looks were full of pity, sadness, and hopelessness. the priests continued their praises to the Gods, muted but there.
The wind howled among the eaves of the temple, the altar laid with a grey covering. The candles in pewter holders instead of their customary gold or silver, the offering bowls, the plate for setting feasts before the Gods all was pewter. The only thing not pewter was the censer. But even the censer was of common copper. The priests began to chant again after a pause, I watched the censer swing to and fro on its chain of gold, the only decoration in the temple now stark of tapestries or rugs on the floor.
The king stayed kneeling before the altar, his head bent. then like a dam breaking his sobs rose from his chest. They crested, the sound like a sad and lamented soul. His grief was palpable, insistent, crushing. I felt it deep in my own soul. He lay himself prostrate before the altar, his weeping filling the chamber as a discordant accompaniment to the chants. the priests all wore faces of deepest-grief as well. I didn't know what to do. I was here with the king. My own grief was raw for though I'd only served her a few days she had been joyous and merry and good.
Not thinking I rushed forward. Dare I touch him? He was the king and could have me executed for putting hands on the royal person? I knelt and touched his shoulder, silent tears falling down my cheeks as I heard this man grieving beside me. What would he do to me? He lifted up off the floor, raised me to my feet and hugged me to him. His muscled arms tight around me. His head fell on my shoulder. For though I am only fourteen I stood a few inches beneath him at five feet and three. His body shaking with sobs he stroked my hair, "Oh Kathlynne, Kathlynne." He said, voice breaking. Why did he think I could? I was one a young woman, a new young woman? how could I give him comfort? I thought to myself, "Oh Kathlynne why do the Gods forsake me?" "Everyone tells me it is what they plan?" "If so the Gods are cruel." He storms. I am speechless with fear.
"Majesty i cannot say." I say softly, "All I can say is that perhaps they have spared you, to give you a second chance at." My words fall still. He raises his head and looks down at me, "oh Kathlynne you are wise to say so." "Perhaps she was not worthy to bear me heirs." Tricky tricky ground I was walking on. For if I said yes he could see it as an insult. But what too say. "I am young Majesty and those things best spoken of with priests." That was indeed the right answer-for he nodded, "Yes Kathlynne you are young." "But you are so." He embraces me again, "So good."
this was the King and he was crying on my shoulder. Men never did that. Men were strong, confident, stoic. If this could get out some would say him weak to cry so. "Majesty." I say softly, "Yes." He says wiping his face, "Majesty you are grieved as we all are." "think it not shameful." "Shameful?" He asks, "Some would say." I lower my headed, dare I? "some would say me unmanned!" He thunders, "Not I." I quickly say. His face thaws, "Not you my sweet Kathlynne." "You are good to me."
"Majesty you do me honour to say so." I say uncertainly. He nods, face tear stained but none the worse for ware. "Go now Kathlynne, I would pray now." I nod and with a swirl of grey skirts I am about to leave when he says, "Come that you and I dine together this night." With a deep curtsey I agree and dash away.
The countess sees me come from the temple and I curtsey, "So?" She asks, "He is most heart stricken with grief my lady." I say, "He prays, he." I cannot tell this court that he was crying, weeping like a lovelorn girl. "It is for the king to say.""But I spoke with him and he took some comfort." I finish. "He wished me to dine with him this night."  "So you shall then." She says. She takes me by the arm and we-enter the lodge. It is made of good stone with oak floors covered in pretty carpets and tapestry of hunting scenes or hawking, or noble sport. She takes me to the fire for the wind blows a cold air.
We dine the king and I in his apartments surrounded by many servants and several courtiers my mother and father among them. The King picks at his food and before an hour has passed he rises, "Forgive me." He says before going out back to the-temple. He does this for several days. He would call for me in the temple. We would talk sometimes for moments, sometimes for hours as the priests clean, chant, pray, burn offerings or meditate beside us. Sometimes I will be there and he says nothing only waving me away after hours of standing still by the altar. Sometimes he calls me in, then dismisses me back to the lodge.
Days goon like this, his secretaries and aids come and ask him tossing this or that and he does his kingly duty by them. He approves of roads built or knights brought into his service. But as soon as he is done he is back at the temple. Some days he doesn't call for me at all but goes and is gone until nightfall. He eats little then retires to his bed for another day of prayer. We all of us think, "How long can this last?" "He must get an heir." But finally he comes out of the temple several weeks later. He is thinner, his beard unshaven, his eyes full of merriment and he calls for the hounds and hawks, the horses and the men to go hunting. He says all-this while looking at me, "Kathlynne will come." The other young ladies, for there are three besides myself look daggers at me. there is of course Lisette DePole the marquess's daughter, Alura, the daughter of a Count and Melique a girl my age and the king's niece by his brother Raynald. But of course I cannot refuse him. After I am back they corner me, "Shame kathlynne for putting yourself-out there." "You ask for his favour don't you?"Asked Melique, "You a common girl and we the best-nobles of the land." Says Melique, "My lady please no I don't." I start to say, "You claim him, and he a grieving man." "Just what do you do with him?" Asks Alura, a girl with raven hair, "We pray." I say acidly, "He weeps and-weeps and says." I start to say, "Liar." Says Lisette, "The king-wouldn't weep like that?" "thankfully my slip has only garnered more scorn for me instead of shock at the king." "Its true, we pray, or he asks me about myself, the priests are there for the Gods sakes!" I say, "Whatever can redo with them in the room." I say, "True." Says Melique, "But what about when he calls you to his dining rooms what then?" "He eats little then excuses himself would you think my mother and father, the count and countess and your father." I say nodding to Melique, "They all stand about." "What favour could the king give me then I ask you?"
The girls all pout then admit to me that what they'd thought was wrong. "Just so we know you aren't trying for his favour." Says Melique, "I wouldn't." I say angrily, "He is the King, he could just as easily bade me stay or go." She nods. "Well then so that you are certain." With that she flounces off. "I thought you better friends than that." I say to Lisette and Alura, "I thought you good ladies who had better things to do than gossip!" With that I see their hurt faces before I storm away.