The Last Knights of Cambria Book 1: Echoes of Gideon

Chapter 10: The last day of summer

Summer is at its pique. The days are burning hot. I've hardly been home in over a month, just walking in to slam my door and then leave, and I haven't even done that since the beginning of July and now it's August. Officially, summer is drawing to a close. But nobody told summer that and it is as hot as ever. I've grown a couple of inches since I came to Harlech, and have spent the better part of the morning hunting down Gareth to help me find boots that will fit me. The old ones, though I love them, have given me blisters so I finally set aside a morning to find decent ones. It was too hot to go riding, and nearly too hot to bother with magic though I tried lifting boulders for the better part of an hour.
To escape the heat, I've evaporated down to the dungeons, the Duke has taught me how to fix chain mail and he had an old shirt he said I can have if I fix it up. I'm actually pretty good at it. It's repetitive and soothing in a way.
"I know you were asking about Sadie, the other day," the Duke says, by way of starting a conversation after we've been working in silence for more than an hour. "I came across a chest of some of her things. Didn't know if they might be useful to you, magical or not."
"I'd like to see," I say, sitting up, hopefully.
He brings over a small wooden box. Inside are a few hair ribbons, like the ones that I've seen Gareth get in town to bribe people, namely girls, but also his little brother, as well as the chain with the iron pendant.
"This," I say, withdrawing the chain.
"Like yours," the duke nods.
"Is it all right if I keep it?" I ask. Her parents would likely recognize it. And well, the pendant doesn't do me any good. I want to do something to help them at least grieve.
"Not doing her any good is it?" He grunts, closing the box.
"Thanks," I say, nodding.
I make my excuses soon and slip off to my room in the tower. What do I want to bet it's also a portal key like my ring?
I fiddle with the pendant for a moment, settling for clutching it. Then, in a rush, I'm lying face down in the grass.
In England.
Modern England.
"This is the hotel you disappeared from. So you went to Harlech intentionally?" I sigh, looking at it. It feels off to believe that she died that easily. She was hanging out with Gareth and the Duke as much as I am, and Dancer likely did his unorthodox magic training on her. She was littler than I, but how did she not have knives or the like to defend herself? Or how did she not injure her attackers with magic? Flight or fight response should have kicked in. Should have.
Unless her killer took her by surprise. And was someone she knew. If her killer was someone she knew, then she might have turned her back on them or the like. A knight who wanted to hurt her? Maybe. Unfortunately she could have known anyone from the village. Or it was just random and they surprised her.
Either way. at least I have something of hers for her parents.
I use Sadie's amulet again, going back to Harlech, then use mine to take me back to New York. I've been living mostly out of the public library. If I feel the need for running water and real soap, I can clean up there or enjoy the air conditioning. And there are even still public phones.
It doesn't take fifteen minutes on the internet to contact Sadie's mother. They had several pages set up, trying to find her. It rings and I get an answering service. I tell her to call me, as I might have information, and give her the number of my burner phone. I get a call back almost immediately.
"Who is this?" A woman's voice, British accent. Nearly trembling.
I disguise my own native accent, easy enough. I've spent more time in Wales than New York all summer, "I am acquainted with a vigilante who has been taking direct action against serial killers. Among one such person's things I found necklace that matches one your missing daughter was wearing."
"Who are you?"
"I can't tell you that, I'm sorry. I'll send you your daughter's necklace, I wanted you to know whoever hurt her, is dead," I say, wincing a little, "I'm texting you a picture of the necklace."
After a moment, "Yes. That was Sadie's chain —who—,"
"He's dead now. Incredibly dead. I don't know his name. I wasn't actually there I just—was helping an associate return the victims things," I say.
"What happened to this—man?" She asks.
"Um—as I understand the limbs were detached from the body and the body was too mutilated with lacerations for identification, I have more or less detail—,"
"Why?" She's sobbing.
"Sometimes there are good people. Not a lot. I'm very sorry," I say, hearing tears in my voice.
"Were there any—,"
"No remains," I say, quietly. I know they buried her. But I could never bring her back I am lucky I was able to bring the necklace. "Send me an address for a box or something, I'll send you the necklace."
"Thank you, thank you for telling me," she whispers.
"Take care," I say, as she texts me the address.
I walk to the nearest post office, and mail the necklace using the last of my cash. Then I go back to the library to return to Harlech. Where I also return to the library. It's too hot to do anything else and I have a lot of books to get through.
"What are you doing here?" Dancer asks, not even looking up from his current book.
"I'm too hot for a ride," I say, sighing.
"It's too hot to do anything. You know it's the first day of harvest?" He asks.
"Is it?" That means it's already September. Damn, school's starting. What a shame. What a crying shame.
"Yeah, they always have a festival in the village, people come from all over, it's very loud. The King usually gives a speech, so everyone will be gone so what I'm getting at is, I bet the cream and strawberries are unguarded," Dancer says.
"I like the way you think," I say, standing up.
"You and your two working legs want to go get that for us?" Dancer asks.
"We're all going into the village," the king walks in, causing us both to start, "Ah, found two people. That's it. I'm sick of—working—every single day—and Rhiannon's been studying Irish and I don't even know why and she hasn't left the castle in ages and so we're all having fun today. I'm going to be dead soon and based off of our life plans we're ALL going to be dead soon we're enjoying ourselves today and because I'm King all of you have to do what I say."
He says it very pleased with himself, he's wearing yellow and gold and orange robes with streaks of bright green, and his usually neat hair is damp with sweat from climbing up the stairs.
"All?" Dancer asks weakly.
"The Duke of Conwy doesn't go out in the sun," I say.
"No, not him that would be cruel, but both of you, come on, and help me find Gareth, oh wow that was easy," he turns around walks directly into Gareth who was coming in carrying a dish of strawberries and cream.
"Um—if I say I'm busy are you gonna believe it's doing anything but eating all of this somewhere those teenagers can't find me—damn it," Gareth sees Dancer and I looking at the treat hungrily.
"Why would you try to hide here? We live here," Dancer says.
"Yeah, so you'd least expect me hiding here, yeah El?" Gareth asks, nicely as the King tugs on his shirt.
"We're going out to make a showing at the festival I want to go I always like going I don't care if I'm ill and I want all of you to come," the King says, stubbornly, "Rhiannon say she's never been and it's FUN and I like going it's like the only thing I enjoy doing as King other than wearing what I like—now come on, we're all going—,"
"All? But Jac doesn't go outside," Gareth says, concerned.
"All right, all of us who aren't terrified of sunlight—,"
"Is he actually a vampire?" I ask Dancer, quietly.
"Like—maybe?" Dancer says, as we follow the others down the stairs, "You know as you have that snack Gareth—,"
"None of you are hiding and eating you're coming with me," the King says, taking it from Gareth to hand to passing a servant. We all look after it hungrily.
"Come on, Gideon, is that what you're wearing? Somebody remind me to get him more clothes, he has pretty eyes," the king says.
"He does NOT," Dancer says.
"Okay," Gareth who probably only says it to mess with Dancer.
"Now, stay with the guards and if you try to leave I'll come and make you dance with me, clear? Stop glaring Dancer. Your face is going to freeze like that and I'll be forced to feel sorry for you."
"I can't dance," Dancer says, flatly.
"Because you said that specifically I'll dance with you, Gideon, force him to enjoy himself," the king says.
"Yes, my lord," I say, taking Dancer's arm.
"I'll kill you," Dancer snarls.
Rhiannon joins us at the castle doors, she's wearing a very pale yellow and white dress and has flowers braided in her hair. She smiles quickly at us before taking her husband's hand. Gareth stands behind Dancer and I to prevent escapes, which turns out to be necessary because Dancer casually tries to walk away the moment we get past the draw bridge. I think he also tries to just jump into the moat, but he could be falling that time.
I've never seen so many people in Harlech and immediately I feel myself shrink into Gareth and away from the crowd. I'm frowning as much as Dancer. Gareth somehow summoned the other bowmen who are walking with us mostly to help keep the crowd back from the king, which the knights are primarily doing.
Now, in these days there aren't photographers and such, but the general crowd mentality is similar, that said, even if your king is unwell you'd still see him now and again in parades and events like this, you're supposed to stay back though, which crowd control will ensure basically like they do in modern times.
Different kings throughout the ages were known for different levels of public interaction. Henry VI and Edward II were both well known for walking the streets of London, Henry VI frequenting Oxford college and other schools, and chatting with students, Edward II would go to the Thames and talk with fishermen or even walk into the market. So some kings were more known for being visible than others and while they'd have done those activities with a decent set of body guards, that might just be in the form of informal bodyguards, such as a couple of favorites or friends or other nobles.
That said, most kings are expected to protect themselves and it would be weak to hide, that is, they have a sword themselves and have enough command presence to prevent assassination.
Certain more fearful kings (Henry VIII, in fact just him) would carry a mace and flail when frequenting the red light district like he did. People like Edward II, were actually decently tough in their own right, Edward II was known for helping landscapers or ditch diggers on the palace grounds, or helping to row if he wanted to go down the Thames; he took after his father Edward I (called Edward Longshanks) and was probably just over six feet tall, and was not prone to illness translation he was a big dude, fairly tough in his own right. And this is all pre guns so you'd have to walk up and stab someone to assassinate him. Probably wouldn't work. Henry VI wasn't little at five eleven, but he probably wasn't overly built  and he was much less active later in life so he likely had more people walking with him, but the common people liked him. Kings like Edward III and Henry V were more into the pomp and circumstance, they were making a show if they appeared in public in a parade or the like, or in Edward's case they were in disguise sometimes so the people didn't know who they were, or pretended not to out of respect.
For the most part, queens would appear at events more often than their husbands who might be away at war, and they could be more accessible so far as actually being in the country, but similarly they would only appear at certain times, usually highly decorated.
All that's to say, monarchs appear in public, a bit more than we envision modern monarchs doing, a bit, more like America's politicians who can and will go down to the local store albeit with secret service.
Anyway, a king like Elis will appear less so due to his illness, and would try to hide the illness, ergo he probably got told he shouldn't do this. He just is. It's not a bad move, he's showing he has a nice young healthy bride who theoretically will give him children as they appear happy, so all's well. It also shows he's healthy enough to at least get through this. Which is slightly true. He can get through it, just, but it isn't easy.
King Elis always wears bright colored robes. My personal taste aside, that is a choice monarchs make sometimes. Richard II was known for wearing very unique, white, very fine robes different from the rest of court, and often times queens will wear bright colored dresses or a signature color. In a large parade or the like they want to let their subjects see who they are, and be able to pick them out. Even modern monarchs will try to do this. So to an extent it's kind of a courtesy. Edward I and II, and Henry V, were all well over six feet, at six two, six one, and six three respectively, they hardly needed to stand out though and could afford to look more the soldier as literally anyone was going to see them. Henry V wore usually really nice clothes, not always flashy again despite being the tallest person alive but whatever he's king, that's most ceremonies day to day he's probably dressed normally. His son Henry VI wore modest drab clothes, no kingly robes, but that could have been more sensory desires than actual calculated choice, he wasn't a very calculating guy as a rule.
Point being, it honestly makes sense, especially if you're not particularly tall or distinct looking and you're surrounded by taller people, to dress the part, and again some kings could afford to not bother.
Kings and their queens traditionally have varying levels of interaction, in part due to war, in part due to the arranged marriages. Queens like Philippa, wife of Edward III, were loved by the people for being merciful and more reasonable than their spouse. Henry VI was known to intentionally spend free time with his wife Margret of Anjou, and they would go places together. Henry VII similarly would let his Elizabeth give speeches and travel with him because he knew she was well loved. He would get her gifts while traveling if she didn't come, and urban legend says the face on the queen of hearts playing card he had modeled after her, because she enjoyed playing cards and other games with him and the children. I don't know if that's true, but I'm choosing to believe it is because that's romantic and it costs me nothing to decide it's true. Like the Loch Ness monster. I want her to be there so she is. Wait, maybe in this reality she like, really is. Damn, I've got to get to Scotland sometime when we're not busy. I feel like if Dancer hasn't heard of it he'll be down he doesn't make great decisions either eh just pretends he does.
In conclusion, it's good politics to let your people see you and your queen getting along, makes the subjects happy, and even if they don't like you then they might like her. Again, it's only a good political move. I happen to know King Elis gets along with Rhiannon just fine, in fact he seems to trust her and even enjoy her company a bit. But it's still an arranged marriage and she's still five solid years his junior. Might as well let the people love her too they'll likely have her longer than him. That's actually fairly rare, due to the dangers of childbirth, as general rule, kings vastly out lived their queens, unless they themselves fell to war. Henry's V and VI are the main exception to this, and I'm not counting remarriages where the second wife who didn't have to bear the kids lived a bit longer.
Anyway, long winded way of saying, even though I mostly talk about us wandering around court having meaningful conversations after dinner or behind closed doors, the monarchs do get out and see the people now and again. I just don't usually participate. I am participating now because King Elis is making me and the others, and he's doing that because it's a big enough festival. He's rounded up most of the servants who wanted to come to walk down with us so us hanging about isn't out of place or likely to draw undo attention that he has his favorites with him.
Nearer to town there's musicians playing, and a full festival underway. Culturally, I want to understand what sort of a harvest festival it is. Reality, I want to cover my ears and go back inside if it all possible. I'm not a fan of loud noises and crowds and shrink more against Gareth who lets me, sturdy as sheep dog and with about as much skill, keeping me and Dancer and a couple of pages, on course and not lost in the crowd.
"It's a dance, come on you two, we only do this once a year," Gareth says, clapping in rhythm then making me and Dancer do the same.
"I'm not good at it," Dancer growls.
"You don't have to be, it's a party, that's the point," Gareth says, clapping my hands for me till I laugh actually.
The king and queen dance together for a moment, Rhiannon is actually smiling, genuinely smiling. And looking at her now she looks every bit the fourteen year old. Freckles on her pale skin, sunlight in her fiery red hair, smile and slightly crooked teeth, laughing as she dances mostly in time with him. A few solid centuries and she should be trading silly rubber bands or colorful sharpies by a rusting swing set in somebody's back yard. This would be her first day of high school. These people are all expecting her to have a child and rule a country. I'm only her senior by a year and probably a few months depending on when my actual birthdate is. I sigh a little. Did society get better? I mean some girls get that, some are still stuck in warzones, learning to fight for their lives with bits of metal. Maybe Mariah was right. Things don't get better. They just get different, but we have to keep going.
"Come here," Rhiannon grabs my hands and tugs me to dance with her. I oblige, laughing a little, as she spins me around. The King is grabbing Gareth and giving him the same treatment. They release us both in a moment. For her to dance with one of the page boys, and for the King to snatch Dancer's hands and tug him forward.
I'm watching with general amusement, trying to ignore the noise of the crowd and just enjoy seeing my friends happy.
Then I do catch sight of Dancer, just as the king releases him laughing and patting his arm, thanking him for being a good sport.
Dancer tips his face away but I see heat rising in it, as he tries to rub the smile from his face with his own fist. I frown. He's not usually easily flustered and to be fair the King warned him he was going to do that. He shouldn't have been surprised.
But that look. Was not surprise.