A Modern Mind in Medieval Times

Laira couldn’t stop her legs from tapping the polished stone floor as she waited for the procession to reach the castle. Her heartbeat had been out of her control ever since she had received the messenger pigeon from Reshma. The words, “trouble on the road” were still floating in front of her eyes. Trouble on the sea was also not uncommon either, but to her relief, the Royal ship had arrived on time.

She sat at the high gallery that looked over the castle’s front approach, counting every breath. Unable to stop herself, she got up and took a peek at the approaching procession. Reshma’s red carriage was followed by a bigger one, clad in shining silver, gold and black. Her eyes narrowed.

Is that thing clad entirely in silver?

How could a realm so rich keep itself hidden? She pulled herself back before her racing thoughts would root her to the spot.

No matter how badly she wanted to, it would be unseemly for a Queen to lean out over the balcony like a child waiting for her father. Not that she could do that anymore.

I wish I had your advice, she thought for the hundredth time.

A blur of gray moved past her face, as Leopold leapt from her arms. He turned his head back and leveled an accusing stare at her.

“I’m sorry. I’m nervous,” she spoke softly to the glowering eyes.

He huffed and strutted away. A moment later, the sounds of his protests echoed.

Panic rose in Laira, but was immediately extinguished upon hearing the cheerful voice she had been longing for all day. “I missed you too, my good Baron of Warm Laps.”

Reshma arrived through the doorway, holding the wriggling gray ball of fur in her arms. She put the cat down, smiled her all-knowing smile, and Laira’s worries melted away. She strode up to the taller woman and enveloped her in a hug.

“I missed you as well, Liru,” Reshma whispered.

Laira couldn’t care to be mad about the childish nickname in that moment, as she deeply inhaled the lavender perfume Reshma favored. Her eyes met Reshma’s, who bent down to place a chaste kiss on her lips. She grabbed the taller woman by the nape of her neck and made sure to free herself of all the worry Reshma had caused her.

Some time later, Reshma pulled herself back. “We can get ‘reacquainted’ later. I’m sure you’re dying to know all about our mysterious neighbors.”

“What about the trouble on the road?”

Reshma’s face darkened at that. “That was quite an experience, and not one I want to go through again. A force of at least fifty set up an ambush close to Nordhaven, in a forested valley. They felled trees to block our path. Sirs Hagen and Grimric vouch those were not desperate peasants but trained killers.”

Laira felt her heart stop. “Fifty? I should’ve sent more men with you!”

Reshma stroked slow circles on her back and spoke in a soothing tone, “We made it back. Well, most of us.”

“How many?”

“Ten of our men are dead. All the knights survived.”

“And our guests?”

“No casualties out of nine.”

Laira’s brows knitted. “None? And only nine? That means…”

“Twenty-nine combatants against fifty well-prepared men, and we won,” Reshma whispered.

“How?” Laira asked in disbelief.

“The reports were true. Our new neighbors’ weapons are unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Crossbows that have quivers built in and can be cocked in a heartbeat. We would not have survived without their help.”

Relief and anxiety warred in Laira’s mind. “Fifty’s too large for a band of brigands. Did our men find out anything about them?”

“No.”

“What about our new friends?”

Reshma shook her head. “The soldiers have taken ‘vows of silence’ and keep the weapons held tight to their bosoms as if cradling infants.”

“And the envoy?”

Reshma’s face lit up in response, in a way Laira didn’t like. “There is no envoy; the Supreme Leader himself came to meet you.”

“Supreme Leader?” Laira pronounced the word slowly. “That’s not a title I’ve ever heard or read any ruler using. What realm is he the ‘Supreme Leader’ of?”

“The Republic of Chadom,” Reshma whispered like a showman.

“What in all the realms is a Republic?” Laira asked.

“Apparently, the people choose their ruler. No hereditary titles.”

Laira’s eyes squinted at that.

What kind of system of governance was that? More importantly, what kind of look was that in Reshma’s eyes?

She pushed the thought aside for the moment.

“Tell me about this Supreme Leader.”

“Well, he’s apparently very strong. The knights said he caved in the skulls of ten men himself, one strike at a time. They didn’t think much of the other soldiers, but they respect His Excellency’s strength and their peculiar weapons.”

“I’m not looking for a soldier, Reshma, but an ally.” Laira reminded her.

“Right. He’s also very cunning, but he’s keeping a lot of cards close to heart. No matter what trick I tried, he wouldn’t divulge anything about his realm beyond”, she lowered her voice to mimic his, “‘we are a very private people who want to live in peace and would like to trade and have good relations with you.’”

“What kind of tricks did you try?” Laira asked.

“Not the good relations kind,” Reshma teased, but Laira could sense something more underneath. She got up before she knew she had done it.

“Wait!” Reshma almost shouted.

Laira glared back, daring her to contradict her assumption.

“Nothing you are imagining happened, buuut, I might have stumbled into a solution for a dilemma you haven’t voiced.”

Laira cocked an eyebrow.

“What was your plan for me when you find a husband?” Reshma asked her.

“We would still be together. I would never push you away.”

Reshma gave her a disbelieving look. “You think your future husband would be fine with us?”

“If he does not agree, he will not be my husband. It’s not like I will be sleeping with another man. The children,” she shuddered at the thought, “will still be his.”

Reshma sighed. “You are the Queen. You can’t just marry any man. You will have to-”

“I know that!” Laira spat, then softened her voice. “I know I’ve been avoiding the question of our future. I’ll work on it, I promise.”

“There is a solution,” Reshma whispered conspiratorially.

Laira’s brows furrowed.

“Spend some time with the Supreme Leader outside of business. Get to know him better. I tried, but he kept repeating, ‘that is only for the Queen’s ears,’” the taller woman mimed and turned toward her chambers.

“I’m tired from the journey. I need a looong bath and maybe later tonight,” her voice dropped an octave, “we can make up for the lost time?”

Laira nodded, though her thoughts remained on the tone of Reshma’s voice. Her thoughts snapped her back to the present and her troubles, as she shouted after her lover, “His identity?”

“Sir Grimric is certain he’s our dead Viscount,” Reshma said as she disappeared.

That didn’t lift Laira’s mood as much as she would have expected. She sighed as she sunk into her chair. She hadn’t even met this man and he was already upending her life.

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As the sun was about to disappear behind the horizon, I enjoyed the sensation of my muscles relaxing and the freedom from grime, thanks to the long, indulgent soak in the hot scented bath. The fire from the hearth dried my hair, as I lay in the comfortable chair like a marionette. Sleep was about to claim me, when a knock at the door jolted me to wakefulness.

“Come in,” I called out, without making any effort to rise. This was true decadence.

The door opened to reveal a well dressed elderly man, who bowed sharply despite his age.

“Her Majesty requests the honor of your presence for dinner, Your Excellency,” he said in a deep baritone.

I stopped myself from voicing a groan. “Please give me a minute to prepare.” I rose, dressed for dinner properly (nobles and their customs, ugh), fetched the gift we had prepared for her, and something a lot more ominous.

As the butler led me to the dining hall, the wealth of Nanon was on display all around me. The massive high windows framed single panes of glass and gilded chandeliers twinkled like stars in the golden light of lamps. At the end of the corridor, tall doors stood open slightly ajar. The intricately carved slabs of wood depicted battles and glory of the Nanoans. Mission accomplished; I was thoroughly impressed. The two knights stood aside to let me in.

“Jack Shah, Supreme Leader of the Republic of Chadom!” the butler announced me.

I entered a private dining hall, bathed in golden light from dozens of lamps. It was empty, save for a lone occupant; a strikingly beautiful young woman with deep crimson hair pinned up, who could be none other than the Queen, Laira Nanon.

She was rather short, barely coming to my chest, but her presence was anything but diminutive. Her pale skin glowed in the warm light, contrasted with her red hair and intricate figure hugging violet dress, flowing like liquid night around her generous curves. I swallowed the spit rising in me.

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Laira stood up to receive the man who had captured Reshma’s attention.

Handsome. Attempting to control his features, but not very good at it. Despite his attempts, she could tell he was a carefree soul, just like her lover. That might not be a bad thing for her. He looked well built, but not a hulking giant she had expected. How was a man that size strong enough to cave in skulls in a single strike?

The bastard who tried to woo her Reshma. No, the flirt probably initiated it. That still didn’t stop anger from rising within her. Something else peeked at the edge of her awareness, but she put it and other questions aside to greet him. Responsibilities awaited her.

“I welcome you to Nanon, Your Excellency,” she said in a controlled voice, bowing slightly.

“Thank you for receiving me, Your Majesty,” he mirrored her gesture.

Was it nervousness she detected on his face? From her presence, or something else?

No matter. She would take every advantage presented to her.

He took out a long black wooden box and presented it to her.

“A token of friendship from the people of Chadom. May it mark the beginning of better days and friendship between our realms.”

She lifted the lid of the box with her hands. Steel polished to a mirror finish caught the light as the high quality one-handed sword revealed itself. Gems embedded in its expertly worked pommel sparkled like stars.

A beautiful ceremonial piece. She looked at her face reflected on it, as her fingers grasped the pommel.

“A beautiful sword. Thank you,” she said in a polite tone, and gently closed the lid.

He leaned forward, a little too close for comfort, and lowered his voice.

“We know these are dark times, Your Majesty,” his voice rumbled, “with Zoran only a realm away from your doorstep. The civilized people of the world must band together to fight their menace.”

So, the sword wasn’t just a meaningless prop. She looked back at the man. Bold, and frank. How very... unlike a noble.

Still, what could a tiny realm hidden in the mountains do?

“Fight?” she asked, not masking her curiosity.

“I don’t think they will stop if we ask nicely,” he said with confidence that she did not feel.

What the hell was he smoking?

Her heart lurched for a moment as all those reports came back to her. Half of Count Zock’s men dead. What if? What if his confidence wasn’t just bluster? She truly looked at the man. Unwavering eyes looked back.

She supposed there was no harm in entertaining the idea for a while. She motioned for him to sit beside her, not across. Not a courtesy she would extend to many.

She plastered on a faint smile. “Since you have done me the courtesy of being direct, I will extend the same to you.”

Then her smile broadened. Not quite predatory, but close. “I must say, I very much admire your self-control, Supreme Leader, or should I call you Viscount Nobart?” she asked softly.

He froze, like prey in front of a predator.

She leaned forward towards him, knowing it’s effect. “Too many men are dumbstruck by my beauty and I usually have to give them a few moments to recover. Some even have the temerity to ogle.”

He now ogled at her, but not for the obvious reason.