The Arranged Marriage (3 page)

He had worked hard and learnt fast as
he moved up the ranks of the army, thriving on his ambition to
prove something to those who had thought him nothing. It hadn’t
taken him long to earn his eventual place as leader of the army of
Mull, a major city in the Foreign Lands, determined not to let his
bastard status drag him down; even if he was the bastard of a
king.

It was known at a young age to Ison
who is father was, and at times he wished his mother had never
disclosed the information of his father being their king. It had
made him dream hopeless dreams that only a bastard to a king could,
and he had not been at an age to understand why he would never be a
true prince to the throne. Even though he had worked out he was the
eldest of the king’s children.

Anger and resentment had manifested in
Ison for a long time, and when his father had finally approached
him to secretly acknowledge him as his own, it had been too
late.

Once Ison had reached eighteen he
requested his father send him off to war. Within the castle walls,
he had announced he wanted to be sent to the Foreign Lands with
only enough currency for his rations and no seal to accept him into
the warrior army. If he was to fight for Faudaga on the border of
the Foreign Lands, then he would do so on his own merit.

Ison had argued with his father until
the guilt of disregarding him for so many years forced King Roscaar
of Dondayas to relent and send his eldest son off to
war.

It had not taken Ison long to prove
himself to the head warriors of the Faudaga army, but it had not
been enough. War had frustrated Ison, only being allowed to make
few decisions when he saw other ways to strategise, other ways to
work towards a better world, but it had fallen on deaf ears and
Ison did not like being ignored. He had jumped at the chance when
the Faudaga bounty hunters had asked him to join them, leaving a
letter of his strategies with the General of the Mull army who
would take his place.

Ison had felt more fulfilled with the
bounty hunters. It was better pay and seemed to have a better
purpose as they went after the villains and tyrants who took
advantage of the lawless villages. He felt at last he was doing
something worthwhile, and getting paid well for it.

It was when Ison finally came to peace
with his father’s reasons for not being able to claim him, and the
bastard taunts burrowed deep into his soul, that he was able to
rely on his wit more than his strength to follow his ambitions. Not
long after that, he was leading the bounty hunters and earning a
fortune to go with it.

When he learnt of his mother’s death
back in Centurias, that was when he decided it was time to return
to the land of his birth. He could have stayed away. His mother’s
affairs would have been handled by her friends, but he felt it was
his place to see to it; maybe to ease some of the guilt of not
being there when she passed away.

It hadn’t taken him long to sort out
his plans. He had passed on his leadership to his second lieutenant
seeing as Josa, his closest thing to a friend since joining the
bounty hunters, was due to travel with him. Several of the men who
had served with him in the Mull army, also chose to retire the war
and travel with him as his men-at-arms. He had finally been ready
to go, the correspondence with his father telling him that it was
now common knowledge of who he was across Centurias, and all was
well. Even though Ison knew it would not change any legal right to
the throne, it no longer rankled. He had ruled in his own way, and
that would just have to be enough for now.

Ison was not the same man when he
returned. His physical appearance had changed in a way that made
him appear gigantic to his fellow men, with only Josa matching him
in height. He had grown his dark hair against the short fashion
that resided in Centurias, and chose to keep it that way even when
he learnt of the trend. He refused to wear any of the current
fashion for clothing and remained with the red and black wardrobe
he had chosen when he had first left Dondayas.

His appearance was frightening to some
people, and not gentile like a gentleman would be expected to be,
but it didn’t bother him. It only enforced his power, and to Ison
that was a good thing. However, it had not only been his physical
appearance that had changed whilst he had been away. He was a
different man and the opinion of others no longer mattered. Even
those of his father no longer mattered to him. He was his own man,
with no acquaintances or friends outside of his men, and he no
longer had a family. He was forced to call Dondayas his home, and
it helped when his father had hired him as an enforcer of the law
to keep him busy.

It was now late into the eve as Ison
rode back from the land he had been awarded by his father along
with the knighthood; land that he had refused to take it as a gift
before he had left the Isle.

He was now ready to retire after
spending most of the day overseeing the work on the building that
would be his residence one day. It was coming along, but he needed
to review the plans on the acres that would house the men who had
chosen to join him.

Ison’s thoughts were still on the
plans as he returned to the castle of Dondayas, and he ordered the
horse to cease as he pulled up alongside the stables. He had
received word not long before that his father had returned from his
journey, and that he needed an urgent meeting with him. He supposed
it was about the rumours regarding the rebels, something he was
being tasked with to seek out. He handed the reins to the stable
boy before going to meet with his father.

“Come in,” Roscaar shouted as Ison
knocked on the door of his study. “Good to see you well
Ison.”

“Good to see you well Sire, I assume
you had a safe journey.”

“Aye, I did. Shut the door behind you
please,” Ison shut the door before making his way across the room.
“I need a request of you Ison, one that I will not beat around.
Take a seat.”

Ison obeyed his father’s order but did
not sit well. His frame was too big for the small chair placed
before him.

“What is it Sire?” He
requested.

“I shall get straight to the point.
You know that King Argarth is eager for his daughter to wed to
secure the safety of the throne should anything happen to him?
Well, he wants someone who he can trust for his daughter and he
wants someone who will stand by his side, to basically be his
protector. He wants an official advisor and he wants
you.”

Ison was confused.

“He wants me as his
advisor?”

“Yes. His advisor, to one day inherit
his throne. He wants you to marry his only daughter, Princess
Rohesia.”

A thousand emotions shot through Ison
at once, and this angered him more than the request
itself.

“He wants me to what?” He managed to
control the emotion in his voice; the vision of having a family of
his own one day playing on his controlled world.

“Marry his daughter.” Roscaar
repeated. “But think about it Ison, think about what it will mean
for you.”

“Mean for me?” He was flabbergasted,
but he quickly processed the information in his head about what he
knew of Princess Rohesia of Ecripian. “It will mean that I get the
extra baggage of his unruly daughter, who I hear is a pain in the
rear end and a spoilt mare.” He stood up from his seat, uncertain
as to why the aspect of marriage was affecting him so. “If you
think you can go behind my back and arrange a marriage with your
buddy Argarth, well think again.”

“Nothing can be arranged if you do not
wish it Ison, I have learnt that already.” His father replied with
a retired sigh. Ison wasn’t having any of it.

“All Argarth wants me to do is to
protect him and play nanny to his daughter,” Ison continued. “So I
can keep everything nice and safe for any other heir that may come
along. Well I don’t have time for that, I have more important
duties here in Dondayas.”

“It will be your kingdom one day I can
guarantee it.” Roscaar said quietly.

“By killing any child that he and his
new wife may produce?” He retorted,

“No,” Roscaar raised his voice; his
frustration at Argarth’s secret pressing on his patience. “He has
confided a furtive message to me that he is no longer able to sire
any more children, and if you dare pass that on to anyone I will
string you up myself,” He quickly calmed as he realised he was
supposed to be persuading his son. “He has had to keep it a secret,
even from his second wife. He knows this makes him more vulnerable
whilst Rohesia is unwed, and he knows he is walking a risky line
every minute she is with no husband.”

Ison stared at his father taking in
the news. It rang true with no other heir to speak of and Princess
Rohesia already at five and twenty. A lighter feeling settled on
him.

“Are you saying that if I marry,
something I have never intended to do, I would have the chance of
my own kingdom?”

“You would basically have a chance of
that as soon as you placed the ring on her finger. Argarth wants
you drawn up on legal paper as official advisor to him. He admires
your loyalty, and he wants you beside him. Is Rohesia worth you
giving up a chance like this?” He put his hands together in prayer
as if to not curse Argarth with what he was about to say. “If
anything should happen to Argarth, or even if he was to retire and
give up the throne, it would be yours. There is no potential of
another heir stepping in to take your place and you can be
guaranteed that there never will be,” He lowered his voice. “It
would mean you having the opportunity of what I could never give
you Ison; something that should have rightfully been yours if not
for our old law.”

Ison felt them heading towards
uncomfortable ground and hastily changed the subject.

“What of my plans for my home here?
The land?”

Roscaar knew he spoke of his plans for
the retiring men and the homes he was building.

“You can still manage it through me
and the men I have here can you not? You will not be king straight
away and you can always divide your time between your duties for
Argarth and your duties here. Even if by letter.”

A sudden shift in his mind made Ison
see a new potential for his future, and one that could change
everything. He would make a decision, he thought, but only after he
had rode out to Ecripian to meet the unruly wench and see exactly
what he would be letting himself in for. He did not like to gamble,
he liked control.

“Very well Sire,” He said with a sigh.
“I will travel to Ecripian.” He started thinking on his plans for
travel as he spoke. “You can send note to Argarth that I will visit
him and agree to review the proposal; for now.”

Roscaar did not bother to hide his
relief.

“You have made a wise choice my son. I
will send word this very moment,” He smiled. “Can you travel there
as soon as I hear a return from him?”

“Yes,” He replied, getting ready to
leave. He needed to think more on this, alone. “Can you also
request permission for us to reside at the Loyal? We shall be
travelling through the Moors to save time.”

“That will too dangerous Ison, I
forbid it.” Roscaar regretted the words that had automatically come
out of his mouth. No matter what he forbade Ison to do, it would
make no difference.

“I have amnesty with Fabian if I
travel in my colours, we shall be quite safe.”

His father had not picked up on the
sarcasm and nodded in response.

“Very well. You are dismissed. I shall
send note to Argarth today advising of your decision and request
for your stay at The Loyal. As soon as I receive his note of return
I will expect you to leave immediately.”

“We shall be ready.”

Roscaar stood and clamped his fist
across his chest in honour of goodbye to his son. Ison returned the
gesture before leaving his father to write the note that may be
about to change his very fate.

Princess Rohesia had received the note
from Baron Minley not long before she was due to retire to her
chamber. It had been addressed as ‘urgent’ and she herself wanted
to know if anything had come about regarding the proposal. Up to
yet, whenever she had mentioned any hint of it to her father, he
had always seemed to find a way to change the subject. Maybe he had
just wanted to keep it as a surprise, she thought to reassure
herself.

She rummaged in her closet until she
found her day cloak. It was hooded and she would need secrecy this
eve if she was going to attempt to sneak out of the castle
unseen.

This would not be the first time she
had met Baron Minley at a time deemed inappropriate. There had been
the occasion before when she had agreed to meet him outside by the
Ecripian Ruins. She remembered the kiss he had given
her.

She had been stunned at first and then
curious, but Kaya, her chaperone, and ladies maid, had
appropriately intervened with a cough and promptly advised that eve
time was nearing.

Rohesia supposed that she should be
thankful of Kaya that eve, she had only been looking out for her,
but now Baron Minley was going to be her husband and she could kiss
him as many times she wanted. Maybe she would not alert Kaya about
her second meeting with the baron and head off on her own. She
would still be protected by the Ruins, and she could move quicker
without Kaya praying for her virginity every moment that
passed.