Flauvic: Friend or Foe?
Introduction
It is several generations after Flauvic made his try for the throne when the Hillfolk decide that his heart has changed and he is ready to rejoin society. He charms the entire Court, but one person is not convinced. Nimiar, named for her grandmother who was in turn named for her aunt seems to be the only person that remembers Flauvic's history of deception. Are Nimiar's suspicions founded or has Flauvic truly changed?
Chapter 1
I was sitting in the Throne Room when it happened: an occurrence that would change the history of Remalna forever.
I often spent time in the Throne Room when I needed some long, private thinking time. I thought that perhaps I could absorb some of the wisdom that the great people who had made decisions in this room had displayed over centuries of ruling Remalna.
At the moment I was in a social pickle. I was the second daughter of the Queen and therefore much sought after by young men, particularly now that my Flower Day was past. I was worried about two of my swains. Apparently one had challenged the other to a duel and the stake was that whoever lost the duel would lose the opportunity to court me.
The challenger was tall and handsome, but also immature and a buffoon. Unfortunately, he could handle a sword better than anyone at Court.
The challenged was short and burly with wide, muscular shoulders that just about any lady would quietly admire behind her fan. What I didn't admire about the fellow was that he was a sniveling sycophant. He was always ready with some insincere compliment that was usually a subtle insult.
I did not want a duel to be fought over me because it would ruin my reputation. Besides if Olaric, the handsome buffoon won, he would probably challenge all of my suitors to a duel and soon I would be stuck with only him and a bad reputation. I had considered threatening to break off our courtship if both of them did not back down from the duel, but then I would be obliged to actually court them instead of avoiding them whenever possible. My final option was to end my courtship immediately with the two men for trying to have a duel over me. I would probably have a reputation as a shrew. Or perhaps. inspiration hit me. I would acquire a reputation as a no-nonsense Lady. I was not to be toyed with and I would not allow men to fight over me like children.
I stared at the goldenwood tree where the throne used to be and composed the letter I would write in my mind. Then, so imperceptibly I wondered if I was imagining it, the tree grew smaller. I focused on one of the branches and waited to see if I could see the mortar from the tile behind it. Slowly, so slowly I began to see the mortar and the tile. I could also see more branches as the top of the tree shortened.
My heart started to beat quickly. Could something be happening to the Hillfolk? Was Flauvic, who had been turned into a tree in my great- grandmother's time returning? Would he be a human or a tree? I closed my eyes and forced myself to take slow, deep breaths. When I was composed and felt that I could act like a normal person, I calmly approached the entrance and asked one of the guards if he would be so kind as to fetch one or both of my parents. Immediately.
I reentered the Throne Room and settled down to do some heavy-duty tree watching. My parents would probably be surprised that I needed them since I seldom consulted them at all. I was very different from my two older siblings. My older brother was outgoing and easy to get along with. He was also a quick thinker. People adored him and marveled over how smart and handsome he was. As a result he had a tendency to grow a bit of an ego, one that my parents and I were quick to deflate if it grew too large.
My sister was just as famous as my brother, but for different reasons. She was known for wearing the latest fashions, knowing the juiciest gossip, and dallying with the most eligible young men in the kingdom.
In comparison with my sibling's reputations, mine was relatively lack- luster. I was known first and foremost as a scholar. I had been given an ordinary royal education but when my tutors told my parents of my cleverness and desire to learn, they sent me to a university outside the kingdom so that I could receive extra training. I had spent two years away from home, returning only during the spring and autumn when the universities released students for the planting and the harvest. I had spent the springs in the mountains, studying the Hillfolk and researching for a book I was writing about them. In autumn I was dragged to Athanarel and forced to be sociable until I could return to the university and study and reflect to my heart's content. If my first love was learning, my second love was horses. They were ideal friends to a lonely girl who needed reassurance that there was somebody who would be honest about his feelings for her and was not just being kind because she was a princess. Four years ago I met my equine soul mate. I had been riding for years when I met him and was already well known as an excellent horsewoman.
I was thirteen and I felt very ugly and insecure. My face constantly broke out into spots and I was a few pounds overweight. These problems may have seemed insignificant to an adult who has the benefit of hindsight, but to me in those awkward years it seemed like the end of the world.
I was fat and ugly with a bumpy red face. People were still kind to me, but I suspected they were whispering behind their fans about how hideous I was. Then in the depths of my self-pity my Uncle Vidanric, Count of Tlanth and named for my great-grandfather, introduced me to Red.
Red was a mistake. His mother was a lovely, fleet racehorse and his father a shaggy mountain pony. Their clandestine meeting had produced Red, a nicely built, medium-sized gelding who was a trial to everyone who met him.
When he was a colt, he was not friendly and cute like all the others. He bullied his paddock mates and resisted human attempts to civilize him. When the time came for training, the trainers found him lazy, cranky, and mischievous. They eventually trained him into a relatively obedient horse, though an inexperienced rider would never be able to handle him properly. My uncle knew he needed to get rid of the horse, but despite or maybe because of the animal's perverse personality, he had developed a soft spot for the old stinker.
When I arrived in Tlanth that summer my uncle knew about my riding prowess and told me to hop on old Red and give him a try. If I liked him by the end of the summer I could keep him.
I hopped on old Red and after an hour I had foiled all of his efforts to act like an idiot. He was extremely dismayed. I had popped him back when he tried to walk off when I was mounting, slapped him when he tried to paw, and given him a solid spur in his belly when he had planted his nose in the dirt and attempted to stop suddenly.
I adored Red from the first time he pinned his ears at me. He despised me and was not afraid to show it.
Over time he gave me a grudging respect, though he still pinned his ears at me when he thought I was not looking and had a tendency to stop without warning if my attention wavered from riding for just one instant. We kept each other on our toes and I loved every minute of it.
The spots had faded. I had grown rapidly shortly after that summer and remained slender. Now here I was a brilliant scholar and a skilled horsewoman, but still insecure, staring at a tree that was slowly shrinking.
My father arrived a few minutes later.
"Darling, is there something wrong? One of the guards summoned me out of a tea with Cerwic." He said.
The hint was obvious: this had better be important.
"The goldenwood is shrinking." I replied in as calm a tone as I could manage.
"What?" He looked at me as though I had lost my mind.
"Look at it. It is shrinking slowly but surely. I wonder if it will disappear or if Flauvic Merindar will appear."
He stared at the tree with me for a few moments, then said, "You are right it is shrinking. We had better tell your mother."
He exited the Throne Room to have a discussion with the guards, then returned to me.
"Nee, dear could you do me a favor? You know what with that piece you are doing over the Hillfolk and all you probably know them better than anyone. Could you and your odious gelding go to the mountains and make sure all is well with them."
"Yes father. I will leave." I checked the nearest candle, "at second green." That gave me two hours to get my affairs in order and that included writing letters to my least favorite swains. I had better hurry!
Introduction
It is several generations after Flauvic made his try for the throne when the Hillfolk decide that his heart has changed and he is ready to rejoin society. He charms the entire Court, but one person is not convinced. Nimiar, named for her grandmother who was in turn named for her aunt seems to be the only person that remembers Flauvic's history of deception. Are Nimiar's suspicions founded or has Flauvic truly changed?
Chapter 1
I was sitting in the Throne Room when it happened: an occurrence that would change the history of Remalna forever.
I often spent time in the Throne Room when I needed some long, private thinking time. I thought that perhaps I could absorb some of the wisdom that the great people who had made decisions in this room had displayed over centuries of ruling Remalna.
At the moment I was in a social pickle. I was the second daughter of the Queen and therefore much sought after by young men, particularly now that my Flower Day was past. I was worried about two of my swains. Apparently one had challenged the other to a duel and the stake was that whoever lost the duel would lose the opportunity to court me.
The challenger was tall and handsome, but also immature and a buffoon. Unfortunately, he could handle a sword better than anyone at Court.
The challenged was short and burly with wide, muscular shoulders that just about any lady would quietly admire behind her fan. What I didn't admire about the fellow was that he was a sniveling sycophant. He was always ready with some insincere compliment that was usually a subtle insult.
I did not want a duel to be fought over me because it would ruin my reputation. Besides if Olaric, the handsome buffoon won, he would probably challenge all of my suitors to a duel and soon I would be stuck with only him and a bad reputation. I had considered threatening to break off our courtship if both of them did not back down from the duel, but then I would be obliged to actually court them instead of avoiding them whenever possible. My final option was to end my courtship immediately with the two men for trying to have a duel over me. I would probably have a reputation as a shrew. Or perhaps. inspiration hit me. I would acquire a reputation as a no-nonsense Lady. I was not to be toyed with and I would not allow men to fight over me like children.
I stared at the goldenwood tree where the throne used to be and composed the letter I would write in my mind. Then, so imperceptibly I wondered if I was imagining it, the tree grew smaller. I focused on one of the branches and waited to see if I could see the mortar from the tile behind it. Slowly, so slowly I began to see the mortar and the tile. I could also see more branches as the top of the tree shortened.
My heart started to beat quickly. Could something be happening to the Hillfolk? Was Flauvic, who had been turned into a tree in my great- grandmother's time returning? Would he be a human or a tree? I closed my eyes and forced myself to take slow, deep breaths. When I was composed and felt that I could act like a normal person, I calmly approached the entrance and asked one of the guards if he would be so kind as to fetch one or both of my parents. Immediately.
I reentered the Throne Room and settled down to do some heavy-duty tree watching. My parents would probably be surprised that I needed them since I seldom consulted them at all. I was very different from my two older siblings. My older brother was outgoing and easy to get along with. He was also a quick thinker. People adored him and marveled over how smart and handsome he was. As a result he had a tendency to grow a bit of an ego, one that my parents and I were quick to deflate if it grew too large.
My sister was just as famous as my brother, but for different reasons. She was known for wearing the latest fashions, knowing the juiciest gossip, and dallying with the most eligible young men in the kingdom.
In comparison with my sibling's reputations, mine was relatively lack- luster. I was known first and foremost as a scholar. I had been given an ordinary royal education but when my tutors told my parents of my cleverness and desire to learn, they sent me to a university outside the kingdom so that I could receive extra training. I had spent two years away from home, returning only during the spring and autumn when the universities released students for the planting and the harvest. I had spent the springs in the mountains, studying the Hillfolk and researching for a book I was writing about them. In autumn I was dragged to Athanarel and forced to be sociable until I could return to the university and study and reflect to my heart's content. If my first love was learning, my second love was horses. They were ideal friends to a lonely girl who needed reassurance that there was somebody who would be honest about his feelings for her and was not just being kind because she was a princess. Four years ago I met my equine soul mate. I had been riding for years when I met him and was already well known as an excellent horsewoman.
I was thirteen and I felt very ugly and insecure. My face constantly broke out into spots and I was a few pounds overweight. These problems may have seemed insignificant to an adult who has the benefit of hindsight, but to me in those awkward years it seemed like the end of the world.
I was fat and ugly with a bumpy red face. People were still kind to me, but I suspected they were whispering behind their fans about how hideous I was. Then in the depths of my self-pity my Uncle Vidanric, Count of Tlanth and named for my great-grandfather, introduced me to Red.
Red was a mistake. His mother was a lovely, fleet racehorse and his father a shaggy mountain pony. Their clandestine meeting had produced Red, a nicely built, medium-sized gelding who was a trial to everyone who met him.
When he was a colt, he was not friendly and cute like all the others. He bullied his paddock mates and resisted human attempts to civilize him. When the time came for training, the trainers found him lazy, cranky, and mischievous. They eventually trained him into a relatively obedient horse, though an inexperienced rider would never be able to handle him properly. My uncle knew he needed to get rid of the horse, but despite or maybe because of the animal's perverse personality, he had developed a soft spot for the old stinker.
When I arrived in Tlanth that summer my uncle knew about my riding prowess and told me to hop on old Red and give him a try. If I liked him by the end of the summer I could keep him.
I hopped on old Red and after an hour I had foiled all of his efforts to act like an idiot. He was extremely dismayed. I had popped him back when he tried to walk off when I was mounting, slapped him when he tried to paw, and given him a solid spur in his belly when he had planted his nose in the dirt and attempted to stop suddenly.
I adored Red from the first time he pinned his ears at me. He despised me and was not afraid to show it.
Over time he gave me a grudging respect, though he still pinned his ears at me when he thought I was not looking and had a tendency to stop without warning if my attention wavered from riding for just one instant. We kept each other on our toes and I loved every minute of it.
The spots had faded. I had grown rapidly shortly after that summer and remained slender. Now here I was a brilliant scholar and a skilled horsewoman, but still insecure, staring at a tree that was slowly shrinking.
My father arrived a few minutes later.
"Darling, is there something wrong? One of the guards summoned me out of a tea with Cerwic." He said.
The hint was obvious: this had better be important.
"The goldenwood is shrinking." I replied in as calm a tone as I could manage.
"What?" He looked at me as though I had lost my mind.
"Look at it. It is shrinking slowly but surely. I wonder if it will disappear or if Flauvic Merindar will appear."
He stared at the tree with me for a few moments, then said, "You are right it is shrinking. We had better tell your mother."
He exited the Throne Room to have a discussion with the guards, then returned to me.
"Nee, dear could you do me a favor? You know what with that piece you are doing over the Hillfolk and all you probably know them better than anyone. Could you and your odious gelding go to the mountains and make sure all is well with them."
"Yes father. I will leave." I checked the nearest candle, "at second green." That gave me two hours to get my affairs in order and that included writing letters to my least favorite swains. I had better hurry!