Chapter 26: A Royal Decree and It's Consequences.


Frosty: Raspberries! Thanks...I think.

Cheeky: OUCH! Giving up the internet for Lent...that sucks. Poor you. big tear rolls down 'Vende's cheek I pity you...my parents were kind enough to NOT pressure my sibs. And I to participate in Lent...ug for you. Still, I have the utmost respect that you are able to do without.

I thank you for your lengthy review...I love those. Gotta love Captain Jack Sparrow...god I love that movie. I thank you for your lovely compliments in regards to the wedding scene...you won't like this chappie if you want a 'happily ever after' bit for those two (in your words) positively precious people...lol, not mocking you.

Well this is the definitive chapter, I hope...and yesyes, Yona is sort of working for the Green Coterie. I hope to make things clearer in the chapter or next.

Read on!


King James of Arulanthu stared at the report which lay on this large desk. He looked up at his friend and spy, known to him as Auden. The man, currently dressed as one of the king's men, waited, wondering if the King would inquire further. He was not disappointed.

" You are certain? You are sure in these facts?" The spy nodded and the king stopped speaking. He soon dismissed him after giving him the sum of the spy's total expenses with his usual fee.

King James waited until the other was gone before telling his personal manservant that he would be indisposed to see any more people today. Tomorrow he would see them. The young man left and when the heavy door had 'thunked' into place, the king pulled the cord, which after a moment, pulled back a tapestry. He walked over to the apparently solid stone wall behind it and eased his fingers into the cracks between the stones.

For a few minutes together he felt, patient with the confidence of his eventual discovery. After those minutes had passed, he found a small latch, which, when tugged, consequently moved three stones, forming a doorway. The king pulled the cord again and walked through the newly formed doorway, which led him down a narrow passage.

One of the ends of the passage was at the Queen's chambers. He stood behind the very wooden door that Natalia had used on her mistress's bidding and watched through the small spy-hole that only the King knew of.

He waited until the Queen was alone, which did not take very long. As soon as her adjoining doors were closed, he entered the room quietly. She sat on her bed, her hands covering her face, acting as a flimsy barrier against the sobs which racked her frail body.

Without a word, he sat down beside her and held her.

Thus they sat for what may have been hours, so intense was their mutual misery. Finally, the king spoke.

" The messenger was killed?" The Queen nodded, the shock that held her making her unable to wonder that her husband knew anything at all of the matter. He rubbed her back comfortingly. " The vial is not lost, perhaps." The queen shook her head,

" No. It is lost. There is not a spell in the world that can find it...so many sorcerers have tried and failed...as I have." With these words, the woman began to sob again and her husband drew her close to him. He knew the pain she went through, though perhaps not the strain. They had both known that she had been trying to obtain and pay off the half-elf gypsy for the vial of Tuliane Flower Cordial, although she had a worry that he had not: keeping her endeavours quiet from her husband and law-abiding King.

The King and Queen wept together for a while. The rest of the day was spent in the other's company, which quietly soothed the other's chipped and beaten hearts.


The next morning the king issued a decree.

The scribes copied it carefully and gave it to the king's messengers, who gave it to the king's guards. By the time the sun was at it's zenith, the guards were riding for the forests, they mail cleaned and their weapons sharpened.


At nearly five in the afternoon, Hershel and Hinda's caravan was surrounded by Royal Guards. A man with a gruff voice called out,

" Who is your leader, your wagon-master?" Azzan jumped down from his wagon and walked over to the man who had asked.

" I am he. Why is it that you are here?" The sergeant snorted without elegance.

" You ask as if you have a right to be here. By law, you gypsies aren't allowed to camp in the forests. His Majesty was lenient on you." The man grinned, revealing teeth that had seen too much ale. " But not anymore, scum. We've orders to bring you to the palace on the charge of illegal camping and conspiring to cheat their Majesties with unlawful intentions. You will come with us without any trouble." The gypsies exchanged subtle glances with each other.

Azzan's back was towards most of them and unbeknownst to the Royal Guards, he was giving rapid hand signals to his caravan. They read, Keep calm, have weapons ready, be subtle. The Gypsies listened as their wagon-master tried to reason with the Guards.

" His Majesty has always been kind to us...wouldn't he give us time to leave? A warning?" The sergeant shook his head,

" You gypsies had it easy enough for a damn long time...you're to come with us without a fuss."

The ruckus that issued was short and bloody. Five guards were down by thrown daggers in a matter of seconds, but gypsies were not permitted to carry long swords, and getting them out of hiding was not a quick task. The nomads were taken in less than three minutes. The men were placed in irons, the women and children kept in their wagons.


Abigail had finally left the Healing Quarters. She kept mainly to her room, but she had convinced Keosha that a walk outside would do her good. They were crossing over a bridge when the Royal Guards were herding the gypsies into the Back Courtyard. The two women watch as they were taken out of their caravans and into the castle.

Yona sat down beside Abby unnoticed.

" They will imprison them until the King forgets. Children will never see their Fathers; husbands will never see their wives; they will never see their families again."

Abby and Keosha jumped, and the noblewoman glared at the spy, who was staring sadly at the disappearing gypsies. Her gaze softened as her friend asked,

" Why won't they see their families?" The man shook his head and hopped from the ledge onto to the bridge.

" They imprison the men separately from the women and children. Within hearing range, but not seeing or touching." Abby gasped.

" That's barbaric!" Yona glanced sharply at her,

" Why don't you tell your King that...you nobles think you're so high, but you're just as low as the rest of us." He spoke without malice or accusation, but Abby flushed.

" I knew nothing of this before you said, Yona." The man shook his head, but Abby still had the impression that she was forgiven. The trio watched until the wagons had been searched and stripped of possessions. Yona kept silent, intent on the division of the items taken from the caravan.

Hinda and Meir were lucky to have been shoved into the same cell, crammed indecently in with ten or more other women and children. The boy sat on Hinda's lap, and she held him comfortingly. Every once in a while he turned his head up to look at her face.

She was pale, the healthy and happy glow of her fresh marriage decimated by their sudden capture and separation. Her hands were cold, clammy. Meir saw a trace of a tear on her icy cheek, there green eyes seemed glassy, like the beads that they traded.

Already, both groups had made the realisation that they could call out to each other, only to be silenced by threats from the guards. One man had disregarded their threats and had paid. Meir could still hear the horrible sound of the guard's cudgel upon connecting with the man's flesh. The loud whump! Whump! Whump! Had made a forever impression on the young boy's mind.

Night had fallen, and the stench that had over whelmed the poisoners abated with the sun's heat. With the stink, the light also left, the only illumination came from the eerie and wavering light from the torches in the brackets lining the corridors in the dungeon.

Hershel squeezed his way towards the window, past the men strewn about the cell, dreaming restless and tremulous dreams. The cool summer's night air soothed the gypsy's feelings, though the air also reminded him of the cut on his cheek. His handsome face was marred by the laceration, which had bleed profusely for quite a while. Finally, the cut had clotted, and his queasiness and faintness from the blood-loss subsided.

The young man stayed at the window for hours. His thoughts consisted of two things, Meir, his little brother...how was he? Had he been hurt in the skirmish or had he hidden as Hershel had signalled? The second matter which occupied his thoughts were of his newly made wife. His heart felt like a piece of tenderised meat from the butcher's. The pain of not knowing of her welfare ate at him, and he nearly succumbed to tears in his grief, but his mettle shone through, and now he prayed unceasingly for their deliverance of them all, but most especially for Hinda's safety.

The young man paused a moment in his prayer, and looked up at the sliver of moon that resided in the sky above him. Suddenly, Yona's face filled the window. Hershel felt the urge to smile in relief, though his sadness dampened the impulse.

" I am glad to see a friendly face, gershom." Hershel named the spy as a friend, and Yona felt honoured in the naming.

" How are you holding up, then?" The man behind the barred window shrugged,

" As well as I can, I suppose...can you get to Hinda's cell?" The man nodded, but interrupted the other man before he could continue.

" I come not to deliver messages, Hershel. I have some friends who can help you all get out by nightfall tomorrow." The excitement and elation that filled the young man's eyes made Yona upset. Such cruel treatment of human beings should not happen!

" How can we help?"

" Reassure your people that we're helping...keep them calm." Hershel nodded in understanding.

" Who is it that you spoke of...who'll help such as us?" Yona grinned.

" Nobles."

" WHAT!" Yona's arm snaked through the bars and he clamped his gloved hand over the gypsy's mouth.

" Quiet!" he hissed frantically. The man nodded, but his eyes still shone with anger and resentment. After a moment or so, his breathing returned to relative normality and he whispered an inquiry,

" What noble would help us?"

" You'd be surprised. I found a decent bunch." Hershel shook his head and muttered indistinctly and Yona tired to reassure his friend. " I know, I have a dislike of them too... but I think we can trust these ones..."

The spy and the gypsy talked details of their plot for a quarter hour. Yona left with the changing sentries on the palace wall, Hershel watching him go, greatly calmed. He leaned against the cold, stone walls, and thought of Hinda as he slept fitfully.


The Knighted Count DeBracey listened closely to the spy's plot. Only a few minuets had passed before he agreed, angered at the mistreatment of the gypsies.

It took Marcus all of a quarter hour to convince his Father, the Count to intercede on the gypsies' behalf. The young man took his Father down to the dungeons to view the captives. One young man picked his way to the front of the cell and held out a hand. The guard accompanying the two noblemen reached out to shove the arm back into the cell but the Count ordered him back to his post,

" We'll keep well away from them, we'll call should we need your expertise." The guard, somewhat flattered, nodded and left them alone. The Count looked over at his son who asked,

" Will you help, Father?" A tense moment passed. Finally, the older man nodded and Hershel and Marcus smiled in relief. The young nobleman turned and looked into the gypsy's green eyes, which gleamed in the light of the candle held by the Count. Hershel opened his hand, revealing a golden rose petal. Sir DeBracey nodded and held out his own hand, exposing a slightly rumbled and bruised golden petal. The two men smiled in recognition and the two nobles left.

Dawn broke over the palace. The King woke after a few minutes, still in his queen's sleeping quarters. After placing a subtle kiss on his wife's brow, he made his way through the passageway and back to his own rooms, just in time to answer his valet's morning knock.

An hour later, the King sat at his large desk, the Count DeBracey before him.

" What have the gypsies done? Why is your Majesty imprisoning them so unjustly?" The Kings ran his hand through his hair, sighing.

" It isn't for you to question your King, DeBracey."

They debated for oven an hour, and when the Count exited his son met him. One look was all it took for Marcus to know that the King had not relented. Together, father and son walked through the stone corridors and out to the garden, where Marcus took another rose petal from an obliging pocket.

They left the gardens quickly for the stables, where they saddled their mounts themselves and left for the city, where they had much business on the gypsies' behalf.


A black gloved hand picked up the crumpled petal from the stone bench in the gardens. Regarding it closely, Yona noticed that there was a small piece of paper which had been crumpled inside of the petal. Quickly, he unrumpled both and read the note to himself.

' So they were unable to convince the King.' The spy thought with irritation. ' That King is making things difficult! How rude for such a famed diplomat.'


Posted on February the 26th of the year 2005.