The Reign of Trees (30 page)

***

She had fallen asleep on Donovan’s shoulder and she knew she must have slept with a smile upon her face, for it was there when she awoke. She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, knowing she could not vocally express her appreciation. He replied by kissing her forehead: a simple gesture which made her heart soar.

Since the passageway was devoid of light, save it be the torch they carried, they had no way of knowing whether or not it was nightfall, but it seemed as if they had been sitting on those stairs for weeks. Illianah’s posterior was cold; her body felt stiff.

Soon, a light came from the bottom of the stairwell. She held her breath and prayed this was their reinforcements and not her father’s soldiers. Sir Tannin backtracked, going down the stairs to find the source of the light. When he returned with a smile upon his face, she knew they were momentarily safe. The stairwell quickly filled with brave men who had left their wives and children behind at the outer wall. She did not know how many of these men had been trained in warfare, but she did know they had the burning desire to protect their families, and that was all that was needed.

The first group of a dozen men entered the king’s chambers and after a long, tense moment, Sir Tannin returned to the stairwell to call upon the other men. Sir Tannin would not allow Illianah to go any farther than the top of the stairwell, and she was told that her presence in the castle should not be yet known.

“Might I go?” Donovan asked of her.

She smiled at the sweetness with which he asked, but it pained her greatly to know that yes, he must go. He knew the castle. She nodded and whispered, “Prince Harrington will be one flight down.” Her own bedchamber was three flights down, but she knew he would not be there. Her bedchamber was not nearly as stately as the bedchamber which was designed for a son of the king—the place which Leif had so quickly filled in her father’s decrepit heart.

Donovan gave her hand a squeeze and left, making it feel as if he had taken a chunk of her heart with him.

There was nothing she could do. Nothing but wait.

***

Illianah sat in her father’s darkened bedchamber for what felt like a lifetime. He had been taken in his sleep, according to plan. The renegades had surprise on their side, yet she knew the tables would soon turn. Their presence in the castle could not remain secret for long.

Four men were left in the king’s bedchamber to protect her, and she knew others were outside the door standing guard, but that did not help her feel any more confident that she would not again be brought to her doom. She felt like an intruder in the castle—in her own home. The power Prince Harrington and her father had over the castle and the kingdom made it feel as if a storm cloud was hanging over her head, threatening to pour rain at any moment. But she tried to push her insecurities aside. They could take this castle. They
had
to take this castle.

A messenger was sent to her room from time to time to report on the invasion. Prince Harrington had been captured while he slumbered as well. Then the inner portcullis and the great hall were secured. And eventually, news came that the king, the prince, Illianah’s cousin Lord Nolan—who was second in line to the throne—and every cabinet member who slept within the castle that night had been captured. They were taken to the north tower prison, which had been emptied of all the occupants who had previously been accused of crimes against the crown. Illianah had thought once the castle was secure, the remainder of the night would be restful so they could prepare for the battle they would have with the castle wall in the morning, but soon Donovan and Sir Tannin came back into the king’s chambers to tell her they had other plans.

They planned on bringing more renegades into the castle—by the hundreds—and then setting out to capture the armory so all their men could be armed by sunrise. “You will risk giving away our location,” she said. “There is a large chance that the soldiers on the wall will know we are within the castle if you attack the armory.”

“Yes,” Sir Tannin said, “but we can accept that. They cannot turn the cannons and use them against the castle, so we will finally be evenly matched, even if the sun has yet to rise. They cannot see in the dark any better than us.”

Illianah was then told she needed to be moved, as the king’s chamber would be used to funnel hundreds of men through. “Would you like to rest in your bedchamber?” Donovan asked.

At first, the thought of being back in her old bedchamber sounded heavenly, but once left alone within the rounded walls of the room, Illianah began to cry. She did not really know what made her cry: whether it was relief or a sense of misplacement, but she hastily stopped the tears. She needed to remain strong. She could not give way to her emotions.

Sleep came to her quickly, but then she soon woke to the sound of shouting. She sat up and listened, trying to distinguish the source of the noise. It was coming from without the castle, in the direction of the armory. Her heart sped up like a galloping horse. She held very still and waited.

A knock came to the door a short time later. The messenger informed her that the raid on the armory had been discovered by the soldiers on the battlement, and a battle had ensued. The castle was safely sealed from the battle on the outside and more than three hundred renegades were in the courtyard trying to overthrow the wall.

Illianah stayed in her bed even though she knew she would not be able to sleep. She covered her head with as many blankets as she could stand without overheating, hoping to dull the sounds of the battle. Donovan was out there. She could not handle listening to shouts and cries and wondering if he was in distress.

She did not hear him then when he entered the room some time later, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when he grabbed her by the shoulder. He pulled the covers back from her head and said, “Illianah, it is done. They have surrendered.”

Again she felt like crying, and but this time she quickly recognized that the tears were joyful ones. “Really? she asked. “It is finished so soon?”

“Yes,” he said. “Most of King Gregory’s soldiers were asleep in the bunk house. We had control of the armory before they could get to their weapons. The wall surrendered soon after, knowing we had them outnumbered three to one, and they could not replenish their weapons cache.”

A sob escaped from her throat, making her sound as if she was drowning in her own tears. “And you are unharmed?” she asked, unable to believe that their invasion could have gone so perfectly.
 

“Yes,” he said, sounding as if he could laugh. He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her up so she was now sitting in her bed. “All is well, Illianah. You can take off your armor and put on a nightgown.”

Again, she sobbed, but it was a sound mingled with the relief she exuded. She rose to her knees and wrapped her arms around Donovan, holding him as if he was her only salvation. She never imagined feeling such bliss. She was home. And she was with Donovan. It was as if she was plucked out of her beleaguered life and dropped right into a fairytale.

***

During those quiet, early-morning hours, Donovan finally had the chance to tell Illianah of how he had come to escape from under the thumb of Prince Harrington’s henchmen.

They had stopped to make camp for the night, just thirty miles or so from Andoradda. Donovan and his father were not let out of the prisoner’s carriage; they were surrounded by the entire legion of a hundred soldiers who slept on their crossbows. As they slept, eerie sounds blew through the forest, and with the ghostly sounds came the howling of wolves. Prince Harrington’s soldiers began whispering their fears of sleeping in a haunted forest, but Donovan knew otherwise. He had prepared his few remaining soldiers to use such tactics—an idea given to him by Illianah herself—in defense of the castle before Prince Harrington and his troops had arrived last week. But so swift and severe had been their attack on the village of Tabo that the Deltegran troops had not even had time to booby-trap the forest. The few remaining Deltegran soldiers had been hiding in the forest since the capture of the capital, waiting for a turn in fates. They had hoped to ambush the returning soldiers and free King Henrick, but they found to their great delight that Prince Henrick had returned as well. This was the chance they had been waiting for. The Deltegran soldiers used old folklores to spook the soldiers and once the Burchessian soldiers shook with fear, they were attacked from every direction. Confused and blinded by the darkness of the forest, many of the Burchessian soldiers turned on one another, making their defeat twice as swift.

King Henrick and Donovan were freed and quickly taken to a hidden location within the forest. But Donovan would not stay. Despite the protests of his father and his men, he told them he must go back to rescue the princess. “You gave me your life,” he had told her, “I could not turn my back on you, even if I would be walking yet again to my death.”

Donovan gathered twenty brave men who were willing to ride into Burchess, and to his great surprise, he found the citizens in revolt. Many of these renegade citizens helped him get to the capital, where he said it felt like a bear had torn his heart into shreds with its massive claws when he found that he was too late. “I did not think I would ever take another breath without feeling the pain of losing you,” he had said.

Illianah knew that pain, as she had the same feeling when she had heard of Donovan’s death sentence. They had both beaten the odds; Illianah knew fate was on their side. But there were so many questions. What next? She was still married, although in her mind she had been freed from that relationship the moment Leif had petitioned her father for her death. She could not ask Donovan what their future would bring, as she knew he did not hold a crystal ball giving him a better glimpse of the next sunrise; nor did she want to disrupt the bliss of the moment by trying to guess what would become of them. Instead, she let him silently stroke her hand as she rested on the bed.

 
The bliss was only momentary, however, as Donovan was soon called to meet in the privy chambers with Sir Tannin and the other leaders of the resistance. Illianah knew they would be deciding on the next course of action, which would include choosing a king. She believed it would be Sir Tannin, as he was the unnamed leader of the opposition, and also because of his ranking in King Gregory’s own Privy Council.

Sir Tannin would make a fine king. He was wise and compassionate. He was once a fearless knight and knew how to command soldiers. The people would like him. Burchess would be in good hands. But what would become of her?

It was likely that Leif, as well as her father, would be hung or beheaded, and while that thought saddened her, it also freed her. She would be allowed to be with Donovan. And since she was not a member of the new royal family of Burchess, she would not have a place here. Deltegra would be the only place where she would still be a princess. Days ago, that thought would have made Illianah happy, but it was not so now. Of course, the thought of being with Donovan filled her with absolute joy, but something about leaving Burchess behind at its hour of greatest need did not feel right. Recently, she had felt ashamed to have Burchessian blood in her veins, but now it filled her with such a sense of pride she thought her skin might stretch. How could she walk away from that?

Just as she could see the sun rising into the crisp morning sky, Madame Partlet came to visit. Illianah’s eyes again filled with tears upon embracing her dear friend, but this time, they were tears of joy. “Thank you,” Illianah said, over and over again, but the words did not seem adequate in repayment for her life.

Madame Partlet helped Illianah select a gown and soon Illianah was being dressed by several lady’s maids. Illianah had not been pampered like this since her wedding day, but the gown Illianah selected was quite different from the one she had worn on that day. This gown was a vibrant purple and trimmed with ribbons of gold. She had worn this gown to a ball once, where her then-affianced Prince Harrington told her she look resplendent and would make a fine queen.

When Illianah was left alone for a time, she could not pull her eyes from the mirror. She did look like a queen, only she would never be Queen of Burchess. Her heart mourned for this loss—and not because of vanity’s sake. She mourned for not being able to lead her people.

She could not help but notice that she looked older. Her complexion was grayer than it used to be—likely from almost an entire week of not sleeping, as well as her near asphyxiation—but it was not the fatigue on her skin that changed her appearance as much as it was something that came from within. It was confidence. She knew, at long last, who she was and what she was to do with her life. Illianah swallowed heavily as she realized that it had taken her a lifetime to realize she was a born leader, and now it was about to be taken from her. Even the beautiful gold and diamond crown she wore upon her head now seemed small and insignificant.

Sir Tannin had summoned her to the throne room where she suspected he would announce to her his intent to take the crown from her head. She put her chin high as she entered the room, hoping he would see the defiance in her eye and not force her out of her crown and home so soon. But Sir Tannin bowed and said, “Princess Illianah, the people have been summoned to the courtyard. We wish to reveal your miraculous survival to the citizens. And we wish you to address them.”

Illianah nodded numbly. She had not thought of saying anything in front of a crowd. What could she say to them that would encourage them to unite and bow before their new king? She swallowed the pain in her throat and again nodded. She would need to show allegiance to Sir Tannin publicly even though she had not yet accepted it in her own heart.

Sir Tannin crossed the room and went to the balcony which led to the citizen’s courtyard; Illianah waited near the opened door and listened to Sir Tannin. He spoke with authority and confidence: marks of a good leader. He told of the imprisonment of King Gregory, his cabinet, Prince Harrington, Lord Nolan, and nearly three hundred soldiers. Sir Tannin also told of the king’s many misdeeds that had happened behind the closed doors of the privy chambers. Sir Tannin was uniting the people and furthering the need for a new king. But then he said, “In my years of hoping to see King Gregory dethroned, I constantly shouldered a great concern over what would become of our kingdom without the royal family of Burchess. The
Boyés
have led our kingdom in righteousness for so many centuries that it seemed a great injustice to unseat them just because of the wickedness of one man. No one was more glad than I to see Princess Illianah come home to Burchess and speak out against the crimes committed by her father and Prince Harrington. At last, I had hope that we could preserve the house of
Boyé
and have Burchess once again stand blamelessness before God. This is why I stepped out against the king and went to extreme measures to preserve Princess Illianah’s life. People of Burchess, I present to you Princess Illianah.”

Sir Tannin reached behind him and grabbed her hand and brought her out to the very same balcony where Prince Harrington had condemned her to death just the previous morning.

The crowd was as silent as the tops of the great mountains of
Leit
. Illianah looked from face to face and each person wore the same expression: astonishment. Then it was as if the wind blew through the crowd—from front to back—as each person took to bended knee. They did not rise, nor did they dare lift their heads to the balcony, almost as if the sight they had seen was too sacred to behold.
 
 

She wanted to ask them to rise, as she did not feel she deserved so great a tribute, but her heart was too full to allow her to use her voice. It was Sir Tannin who called them back to their feet. “I have met with all the leaders of the opposition to determine the fate of our great kingdom,” he said once the crowd had returned their attention. “It was unanimous. We all believe that the best leader for our kingdom is the one who has the closest claim to the throne: Princess Illianah of Burchess.”

“What?” Illianah did not realize her thought had been spoken out loud, but on seeing the look of amusement on Sir Tannin’s face, she knew she had been indiscrete with her bewilderment.

Sir Tannin again spoke to the crowd. “Princess Illianah has shown great courage, leadership, and wisdom as we have fought to overthrow her father, King Gregory. She will be a wise leader. A thoughtful leader. A compassionate leader. She will rule for the good of all the people of Burchess, and not for her own ambitions. We desire her to have the full support of the people of Burchess.”

“All hail Queen Illianah!” someone in the crowd shouted.

The shouts then swept through the crowd like a river running down a hillside. There was no stopping the unanimous cheers sustaining Illianah as Queen of Burchess. Illianah blinked heavily to keep the tears at bay and again turned to Sir Tannin in astonishment. He smiled and nodded encouragingly. This was real, and it was better than any fairytale Illianah could have imagined.

She turned back to the crowd and did something unconventional: she showed them her appreciation by bowing to them. They cheered wildly, sounding a hundred times louder than any jousting match she had ever attended.

Sir Tannin spoke right into her ear as the crowd continued to celebrate the preserved life of their princess and sustaining of their new queen. “There will be a coronation later today. You will need to select your cabinet as well. But now, while the crowd is gathered, we will need you to lead them in a vote on the fate of King Gregory and Prince Harrington.”

The warmth in her heart quickly dissipated as her blood turned ice. “Now?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “We must not waste any time coming to a verdict on their punishment, lest the people think we are weak.”

Illianah waited until the roar of the crowd quieted to a soft purr and then she thanked the people for their support. “Sir Tannin is right to declare that this should be a people’s government, uniting in one voice. I ask of you then, what do you desire to be done with your former leaders? What punishment do you wish befall King Gregory and Prince Harrington?”

The people again looked surprised, as if they could not believe they would really have a voice that would be recognized by their leadership. But then various chants came through the crowd. From most, she could gather that death was to be the fate of her father and her once-husband, but it seemed that the people would not unite as to the manner of execution. “Hang them!” she heard from several. “Off with their heads!” said others.

Near the center of the crowd, she saw several citizens conversing, and then the entire group of men called out in unison, “The stocks! Put them in the stocks!”

It seemed as if the entire crowd of hundreds turned their attention to those men in the center. She could see their explanation being sent through the crowd—person by person, until the crowd united in one voice. “The stocks!” they yelled. “Death in the stocks!”

She glanced at Sir Tannin. He looked shocked; she imagined his face was a perfect reflection of hers.

The stocks were used among the commoners as a means of public humiliation—likely for stealing or committing adultery—and they had never been used in Burchess as a form of execution. She had heard of other countries keeping their criminals there to die, but it usually took days to an entire week for the criminal to succumb to death. It was a miserable, indignant way for one to die, even if they were guilty of monstrosities. Her knees buckled. She did not know that she could carry out this sentence.

“The stocks are not used for death in Burchess,” she said, making her voice strong. “’Tis a terrible, torturous way for a man to die.”

At the center of the crowd—where the idea had originated from—one man yelled, “’Tis a terrible, torturous life they have afflicted on us. They should die amongst us, where they can see the pain they have caused.”

Illianah knew what it would be like for her father and Leif. They would be spit upon. They would have things thrown at them, including years of built-up insults. This was a torture she would never have asked for, even though those two men had harmed her greatly. Yet, she was to lead according to the voice of the people. She could not over-turn their first petition.

Again, the crowd cried out, “Death at the stocks!”

Illianah held her hand out to silence them. “Very well,” she said. “As Queen of Burchess, and at the request of the people, I hereby order death to King Gregory of Burchess and Prince Harrington of Liksland by way of the stocks, to commence immediately.”