A Royal Sacrifice Ch. 06

John chuckled. "Saints bless you, Cedric," he said.

Cedric laughed back. "I know, I know, since no one else will."

"High card," suggested Eric, shuffling the card. The other two readily agreed.

"Wait!" said John, just before the deal. "What do we get if we win?"

Cedric and Eric glanced to one another, then to John. "Our heart's desire?" proffered Cedric.

The two larger men laughed. "Done!" declared Eric, snapping out the cards. Soon, each of the men held a single card beneath their hand. Eric met each of the men's eyes in turn. "To our heart's desire," he said.

"To heart's desire," echoed the others. In unison, they flipped the cards over.

"Bloody fucking hell!" cried John, looking upon the seven of clubs.

"'Tis not right, not right," said Eric, regarding the Queen of Spades. Strangely, the image of Lady Viviane appeared in his mind.

Cedric grinned, tapping the card before him. "Queen of Hearts, gentlemen," he said. "Destiny never lies."

Eric's gaze simmered. "Then you don't know women," he commented grimly.

The three of them laughed, and clapped hands. The raucous cacophony echoed throughout the infirmary, then died down as the three realized the advance of the nurses about them.

"You are disturbing the other patients," one of them said.

"Please, be discerning," said another.

John and Eric gave each other quiet looks. The both glanced to Cedric. "Appears our fun is at an end," Eric said.

Cedric chuckled. "For tonight." He offered his hand. "'Til tomorrow?"

In turn, Eric and John clasped Cedric's hand. "Tomorrow," they said.

Cedric settled back in his bed as the two burly men left. He felt blessed to have such as his friends. He shifted a bit upon the thin straw mattress, winced as his wound pained him. He took a breath, and the pain abated. After a moment, the dull throbbing faded away. He remembered the words of his queen, his friend.

"You will not leave me, Cedric."

"I will not," he spoke aloud.

"Cedric."

He blinked his eyes open, looked to the doorway. The voice, the form, neither belonged to his queen, yet he was not disappointed. Cedric smiled as he took in the brunette mane, the pale skin, the slender form beneath a loose gown.

"Aye."

She approached, gliding across the tiled floor to his bedside. She knelt upon the floor and took his hand. Rebecca's eyes were wide and round, dark as caramelized chestnuts and just as sweet. "Why?" she asked wonderingly.

Cedric frowned. "Why what?"

"That . . . man," she said, her brow furrowing. "Was he after me?"

"It seemed to be," said the guardsman.

Rebecca's face worried. "But . . . why?"

Cedric sighed. "You are close to the queen," he said. "Beyond that, I can only guess."

Rebecca ran her hands over Cedric's own, then lowered her head and rubbed her face against his callused knuckles. "I think I see him, in my dreams," she whispered.

The gaurdsman petted the handmaiden's soft dark hair. "I think we all do," he said.

Rebecca lifted her face. Her cheeks were streaked with tears. "Can you save me?" she asked in a breathless voice.

Cedric slowly shook his head. "No," he said.

The handmaiden's face contorted with tears. She clutched Cedric's hand tightly.

"I cannot save you," he said. "But I can protect you."

Rebecca lifted her head, her expression one of hope.

***

The following day, Evelyn, fifth Queen of Vix, appeared atop the steps of the royal manor within the castle, facing the nobles gathered upon the lawn of her courtyard. To one side stood the Lord Chamberlain, to the other was Benedict, the High Chancellor. Just behind her was Prince Drest, silent and expectant. Before them all, Evelyn felt empowered.

"Milords, miladies," she spoke, her words echoing across the grounds. "Nearly two decades ago, my father, King Richard, decreed an enemy of the kingdom. His name . . . is Bagdemagus."

A low murmur passed through the crowd. Evelyn continued unabated.

"Many of you, I know, would prefer not to believe in this myth of a wizard nearly as old as the kingdom. But I will say this now: he is real, and he means harm to us all. I know not -- yet -- was his plans are, but I promise you . . . ."

She looked out among the gathered nobility. "I promise you . . . he will not realize them."

Scattered applause met her proclamation. Evelyn raised her hands to quell it.

"I urge you, you nobles, with your guards and soldiers, your resources and even your spies, to be on guard against this man. He is tall and pale, with thick, dark hair, and he dresses all in black. He wields a sword with an ivory hilt and a single-edged blade. If any of you see, or hear, of this man, you will report to me, or my guard."

Evelyn allowed the hubbub amongst the crowd to run its course. She found the Captain of the guard off to the side, and nodded. Begrudgingly, the man stepped forward, followed by two others, both clad in the deep purple coat of the new Royal Guard. One walked somewhat stiffly, his recent wound still healing. The men were directed to remain, and the captain retreated.

"By my right as Queen, as regent of the land of Vix, I invoke the right of special privilege," she said. "Facing an enemy of the kingdom requires heart, and skill. And these two men have proven both."

Evelyn turned slightly, as a vassal stepped close, holding a sheathed sword in his hands. Smoothly, she drew the blade from the leather scabbard, held it aloft. The golden-hued blade seemed to glow softly in the afternoon sun. Evelyn held it before her with reverence.

"This is the sword of my great-great-grandfather, Gabriel, first King of Vix," she said. Her gaze swept out across the nobles beneath her. "It is unbreakable, like the will of the people I serve. It is the law of the land."

The Queen took two steps down, until she was just above Cedric and John. She smiled upon them. "Kneel," she said softly.

Dutifully, the two men did so, with Cedric wincing slightly.

Evelyn gripped the sword firmly, then laid the flat of the blade, in turn, upon the two men's shoulders. "In the names of Saint Michael, Saint George, and before all the spirits, I knight thee, both. Forget your beginnings, and embrace instead the glory of what you may accomplish."

Evelyn's eyes glittered. "Arise, Sir Cedric."

Gritting his teeth against the emotions that overwhelmed him, Cedric took to his feet. His gloved hands touched the golden blade, and as he was expected to do, he kissed it. "I accept my duty as knight of the kingdom," he said.

The Queen smiled, then looked to John, who remained on bended knee. He regarded the golden sword. "I am a simple man, milady," he said.

Evelyn nodded. "I know that," she said. "But I also know, as simple as you may be in thought, you are anything but in deed. Rise, Sir John."

Slowly, John took to his feet. He touched the sword, and, hesitantly, kissed it.

"Do you accept your duty as knight of the kingdom?" asked Evelyn.

John looked about, upon all the nobles who often despised him, upon the stablehands and laborers who were his brothers, upon the face of Prince Drest, standing off to the side and nodding his assent. For a moment, eyes fell upon Eric, his closest friend, standing strangely close to the buxom half-sister of the Prince, Lady Viviane. For a moment, he wondered how he could live up to his new duties, so strangely thrust upon him, without Eric to offer a guiding hand. His mind drifted back to the evening before.

"The Queen wants to revive the Knighthood," John said as Eric sat beside his bed in the infirmary. "I can't believe it, but she has asked me to—"

Eric nodded. "I know."

"She asked you, as well," John said knowingly. "But I suspect you declined."

Eric took a heavy breath. "You know of my past," he said. "I had not the heart to serve God; neither have I the heart to serve a kingdom. Why else, do you think, I remain a simple groom?"

"But you can be more," John insisted.

Eric met his young friend's eyes. "Not everyone wants more."

The moment was gone, swept back into the past. John blinked, returned his gaze to the golden sword before him, to the glowing face of his Queen. He found himself smiling with pride. He, John, grandson of a whore, knighted. "I accept my duty as knight of the kingdom of Vix," he saidwith conviction. "And as hopeful champion of my Queen, Lady Evelyn."

Evelyn smiled, and lifted the sword. A single glistening tear shone within one of her eyes. "Time will tell," she said softly. Her voice rose dramatically as she addressed the nobles once more.

"For the first time in over two decades . . . welcome, the Knights of Vix!"

Reluctantly by some, but enthusiastically by most, hands were thrust into the air.

"KNIGHTS OF VIX!"