The Sacrificial Boy by: Elsbeth Aislin learns that all choices in life come with consequences

Chapter 20

Ignoring the reactions to her entrance into the great hall, Aislin contemplated the challenging and dangerous road she had chosen. Proclaiming herself a Duchess, as opposed to the Black Sorceress had been a good start, but that choice didn’t come without its share of difficulties. The smallest ill-timed event could easily lead them all to disaster.

First, Aislin needed to remind her enemies and allies about her other more ancient heritage, a legacy that ultimately forced two armies to stop fighting. However, displaying those gifts through a show of brute force, or even a vague threat of it, would be counterproductive. No, for this to work out the way she wanted, it needed to be subtle.

As the arguments breaking out among the noblemen in the hall had not stopped and overall served no real purpose other than to delay the meeting, Aislin decided to move things forward.

“Excuse me; I seem to be wanting for a place to sit.” With a wave of the Sorceress' hand, a raised throne formed in the center of the room. Created from rich green spirit stone, its presence caused the whole room to fall silent.

Taking a seat, the Duchess turned towards the two kings. “Uncle Llwynog; before we begin. Prince Rupert sends his regrets but will be unable to attend these discussions.”

“Sends his regrets, Sorceress?” The King of Airthir spat. “We heard those troops vanished and were slaughtered to the man by your own hand.”

Aislin shook her head, seemingly immune to the anger coming from King Cullen. “Rupert and his men came to no harm. Oh, I’m sure they will think before intruding upon my lands again; however, as I said, they are all well. “

King Cullen spoke once again in an accusatory tone. “Sorceress, you were the one who demanded this meeting. Against my better judgment, I have halted the attacks to push these invaders of our lands.”

King Llwynog, with the guilt of the fate of those troops he sent into the Forest of Wyre gone, threw himself into the argument with the King of Airthir with great joy. “Invaders, hardly, my own Queen Cariad holds legitimate claims to these lands. It is you who are the invaders.”

Everyone in the room knew one of the factors in the open hostility between the two kingdoms had been due to the different Laws of Succession. In the Kingdom of Airthir, only the male heir inherited, while in the Kingdom of Dáil, the eldest child.

With the former King of Airthir dying childless and no other males to assume the throne, the Succession Wars began. Even with King Cullen taking the throne, because of their different laws, Queen Cariad, wife of King Llwynog and daughter of King Uric, late King of Airthir, continued to press the issue. Those wars had continued every spring, until now.

Wanting to stop the argument before it escalated, Aislin interrupted the two monarchs. “And I ended your battle before it began. And, truth be told, both of you are currently trespassing upon my lands.”

The King of Dáil Riata grimaced, not wanting to upset his newfound ally. “My apologies. Our two kingdoms have been at each other’s throats for so long that this argument has become a habit. You are correct, Duchess, we have indeed intruded upon your domain, and for that, I do apologize.”

King Cullen, on the other hand, shifted uncomfortably on his throne for a moment, knowing that lands surrounding had at one time been part of the Black Sorceress’ domain, but that had been a long time ago.

“I do not recognize those claims. You may claim whatever you wish, but the Black Sorceress’ kingdom is no more.”

“Perhaps, but I was speaking as a Duchess and head of House Osraige. These forests and pastures surrounding the Keep of Dun Láiidirhave always been my family’s ancestral lands and have for hundreds of years.”

“House Osraige no longer holds these lands for the crown.” The King of Airthir replied testily.

“I believe Duchess Aislin doesn’t acknowledge that you have the right to take away her house’s lands, Cullen, much less the right actually to wear that crown on your head. Do you, dear, my dear niece?”

“Niece.” The King of Airthir grumbled, staring unhappily at this so-called Duchess. It would have been easier to oppose an evil Sorceress. He could have easily united his kingdom against such a foe. Proclaiming herself as Duchess Aislin of House Osraige suddenly changed everything.

“Indeed,” Aislin mused quietly as she watched as Cullen turned to a well-armored Knight at his side, before giving what appeared to be several commands. Those commands had a ripple effect on Cullen’s Court.

She half expected that watching as a number handful of nobles exited the great hall. Most likely, returning to their regiments, preparing them for battle. She didn’t worry overly much. Overall, King Cullen and his Court had acted quite predictably.

Although there were inherent dangers in continuing down this path, she still needed to push him a little further. Even with Cullen scrambling to ready his army, the King of Airthir needed to understand the folly of actually starting that fight.

“So this shouldn’t come as a surprise, my royal cousin, but Rupert is no longer my heir.”

King Cullen almost rose from this throne at that proclamation. Any other discussion in the room came to a halt.

For the King of Dáil Riata, the Prince’s disappearance exposed his own kingdom’s succession issues. Suddenly with invaders landing on the shores and Kingdom of Airthir troops starting a new spring campaign, Llwynog was not terribly optimistic about the future of his kingdom.

Now he didn’t wish the young man harm, however, although a popular choice among the nobles, Rupert would have made a terrible king. When he discovered that the young man and his troops had disappeared, except for the utter waste of good men, the thought didn’t bother him too much.

The goddess of Fate must have smiled upon his kingdom when House Osraige returned. With many enemies on land and sea, leaving the throne to his powerful niece, Llwynog knew his kingdom’s future would be left in very capable hands.

“The Black Sorceress is now your heir, correct.” King Cullen frowned, trying to hold in his anger.

Apparently, the two had already made an alliance. He had given orders to ready his army, now thoughts of redeploying his army instead or worse calling a retreat came to mind.

“No, Cullen, not the Black Sorceress, but Duchess Aislin of House Osraige; understand she is now my heir by our laws as she is the eldest child.”

“Are you honestly claiming this girl is the next heir to the throne of Dáil Riata?”

King Llwynog shook his head in disgust. “Ignore the facts at your peril, Cullen. The proof is right in front of you. Besides, you should know your family tree. The Duchess here is my great-niece through my lovely wife Queen Cariad, formerly of House Osraige. It also makes Aislin your niece, through your sister as well, does it not? “

The Duchess watched the other nobles in the room carefully. The discussion had already arrived at this point much faster than she would have thought. Her appearance as Duchess Aislin, as opposed to the Black Sorceress, opened this particular path. Early or not, however, she needed to let the events continue on its course.

King Llwynog’s proclamation stunned the room, informing the nobles of the now unspoken alliance between House Osraige and the King of Dáil Riata.

Aislin could already see the mood of the room shift. Many had been unhappy with Cullen’s reign and just as many of old allies of House Osraige that would be happy to take up arms once more.

“Why all the confusion anyway?” Llwynog gave almost a feral grin, pushing the issue further. “You of all people should know my kingdom’s Laws of Succession. Not only that, by our laws, Duchess Aislin has a better claim to your throne then you do. “

King Cullen looked at the two angrily, but before he could say anything, heated arguments once again broke out amongst the nobles present.

“Now, his actual supports will make an appearance.” Aislin could hear her grandmother whisper.

The Sorceress nodded. Although King Cullen had gained the throne twenty years ago, only the support of several wealthy and powerful noble houses had kept the realm from falling back into Civil War. With the heir of House Osraige sudden reappearing, the quite vocal opposition wasted no time moving to support any claims she might have.

While the nobles continued to throw insults at one another, a few in her general direction, Aislin remained silent. As her grandmother said, it was only a matter of time before King Cullen’s court’s most vocal supporters stepped forward to renounce her claim.

The first, a weasel looking nobleman dressed in bright yellows and greens sneered at the Duchess, his voice cutting through the noise in the hall. “Preposterous girl, you’re an imposter, the line of Osraige is dead.”

Aislin looked at him for a moment keeping her ire in check, part of her wanting nothing more than to hex the man into oblivion. This man’s House, once allies with her family, had switched alliance in the middle of the war.

“I assure you, Lord Gannon of House Bligeaird, I am quite alive and.” Turning her head, she gave a warm smile to a group of men and women behind her. “So are many others of my House.”

Lord Gannon stood back, a small flicker of fear in his eyes.

Like many other minor houses, Bligeaird had used the rise of House Armhaighe as a means to gain more power for themselves. An ardent supporter of the current King, as a reward, House Bligeaird gained control of several merchant houses, which her family used to own.

With the ability to help refill the treasure depleted because of wars, they also gained considerable influence when the current head of their household’s daughter became the current Princess.

Aislin watched as other noblemen stepped forward to try to deny her claim as well. The most vocal had gained considerable influence after the fall of her house. Like House Bligeaird, if Cullen lost his throne, they too would most likely lose everything.

“Dog, hold your tongue.”

Aislin raised her hand, settling down the Kareivis in her entourage who were close to unsheathing their weapons. That was a fight she didn’t want to start, at least not just yet.

Thinking they had the upper hand, the group of the noblemen smirked. Lord Gannon, being from the North, understood the Kareivis language quite well and started to give a sarcastic reply but was stopped by a large half armored man that stood to the left of the King.

The man's eyes had become wide during the confrontation. With a mere look, the once vocal nobles in Cullen court stopped talking. Taking a step forward, he looked at King Cullen for a moment before motioning to the Sorceress Bannerman, and several members of her entourage.

“You are the one the Kareivis call Burvju.”

“I am, Count Volan,” Aislin replied.

The Count nodded then turned to his King, trying to hide the alarm on his face. Aislin watched as Duke Blathmac stepped forward, speaking to King Cullen, who nodded to the Herald to quiet the room once more.

The King of Dáil Riata raised an eyebrow at the strange name and the Count’s reaction. “Well, this will need some explanation, but perhaps another time? Now, let us get back to our previous conversation, Cullen. Duchess Aislin is the granddaughter of the eldest daughter of the late king, no matter what you believe otherwise, she, not you, has a straight line of succession. In other words, she has a better claim to the throne.”

Turning to Aislin, the king gave her a large smile. “In fact, my dear, if you have a need to take that throne, you will have our full support, financially and militarily.”

Aislin sighed as a roar of voices filled the large room while trying to ignore how the King of Dáil Riata's eyes almost glowed at the prospects of a formal military alliance against the Kingdom of Airthir.

She didn’t need a vision to understand the ramifications of such a union. Nevertheless, dreams she had, frightening ones with the land covered in fire and blood.

True, it might allow her plans to move forward at a much faster pace, but the large scale of death and destruction would be, at least for her, unacceptable. In the end, she would be required to conquer half of the known world before the other countries submitted.

Even if following such a path made the defeat of darkness assured, the future of those that survived, especially those with the gift, would be worse. She would need them to enforce the peace until the darkness arrived and afterward they would need to remain to keep the lands from falling into chaos.

Such things would not last, and in the end, there would be even more blood spilled. No, unity through familiar ties had to be the path she would take, even if it meant a sacrifice on her part.

Aislin smiled, with the threat of civil war hanging in the air, she waited for the right moment to pull them all back. As if counting down in her head, she listened to the angry voices in the room as they continued to rise to a crescendo. “Now,” she said to herself before speaking.

“Know this, King Cullen; I have no claim to your throne.”