Tales of Regventus : Adalwen
Chapter 17

Ansel was anxious. He was pacing the entry hall of Keene Manor waiting for Griffa to come down so they could walk to the Ring of Nine meeting. He kept looking up at the large clock in the hall. They still had time before the mid-morning bell rang, but Ansel would like to arrive at the meeting hall with a little time to spare. He saw Max staring at him as he paced. He was probably making the boy nervous, but Ansel couldn’t help it.

“Are we sure she is still coming?” asked Ansel.

He looked up the stairs for what felt like the hundredth time.

“She said so at breakfast. She said she had to prepare first,” said Max leaning against the wall.

“Prepare how?” asked Ansel. Max shrugged.

They waited for several more minutes. Ansel was starting to get aggravated as he wondered what she could possibly be doing.

“Alright Max, I think we need to go. Griffa knows where we are going, and she can catch up when she is done preparing, or whatever is taking so long,” said Ansel grabbing his hat from the table in the entryway.

“We should give her a couple more minutes, “said Max. “I’m sure she doesn’t plan to make us late.”

Ansel rolled his eyes.

“She might very well be trying to make us late. Griffa doesn’t always respect the wishes of the Ring of Nine.”

“Why?” asked Max.

“We don’t have the time to get into it, but come on let’s go. She will follow.”

“Really, Ansel, we still have at least thirty minutes until the mid-morning bell rings. What is the rush?” asked Griffa as she came down the stairs. Ansel could see immediately what had taken her so long.

Griffa was wearing an impressive black dress. It fit her well and fell to the floor in a full skirt. It had a high collar that covered her throat. Along the waist was a red and gold embroidery of feathers. Over the dress she wore a black cloak fastened at her neck by a gold chain. On her cloak was the standard of her family, the red and gold falcon. It covered the entire front of the cloak. Her hair was pulled up in braids with a few curly tendrils framing her face. She looked magnificent.

“Trying to prove a point, are we?” asked Ansel.

He couldn’t help but smile. He looked over at Max who looked impressed.

“What?” asked Griffa. “This is a very normal thing for a Keene to wear to the Ring of Nine. Father wore a cloak just like this.”

“He did,” smiled Ansel. “You are definitely making a point, Griff. What are you planning?”

“Nothing. I have nothing planned. I just want to be able to remind them who they are dealing with if it comes to it. Come on boys, we don’t want to be late,” said Griffa walking past them and opening the door.

Maybell had come down the stairs following Griffa.

“She is so much like her father,” said Maybell proudly. “You better go on, don’t get left behind.”

Max followed in Griffa’s path. Ansel put on his hat and gave a great sigh. He hurried through the door, giving Maybell a quick nod.

Griffa led them through the town at a quick pace. She nodded to folk as they passed. Some stopped and stared at Griffa. She seemed not to notice, but Ansel thought she must have known the scene she was making. She was not just Griffa today. She was Gryphon Keene, the only child of Renweard Keene and the head of the Keene family. She was letting people know she was aware of her place and the power that came with it.

Ansel was a little worried of what she would do in front of the Ring of Nine, but he could not help but keep smiling when he looked at her. She was awe inspiring today. They walked on until they reached the meeting hall. Griffa walked to the statue bringing Max over with her.

“Now, Max every time my father came to the hall for a meeting, he would bow to the statue of King Nathin for luck, and then he would look towards the statue of the Gods and ask for wisdom and humor.”

“Humor?” asked Max as he bowed with Griffa and then faced the statue of the gods. “I understand wisdom, but why humor?”

“Father always said you had to have a good sense of humor to get through all the ridiculousness of these meetings,” said Griffa smiling. “Come on, let’s go get announced.”

Griffa went up to the meeting hall and opened the great doors. Inside the doors was a middle-aged man with dark brown hair sitting at a small desk. He was wearing a black robe and round glasses. He looked up, and Ansel saw his eyes widen a little.

“Miss Keene,” he said in a strangely high voice. “How good to see you; how may I help you today?”

“Gryphon of the family of Keen, Ansel from the line of Raya, and Maxwell of the line of Adalwen here to see the Ring of Nine. We have been summoned,” said Griffa, very businesslike.

“Oh, this is the young king!” squeaked the man excitedly. He bowed low. “It is a pleasure to meet you, your majesty.”

Max looked nervous and rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, thanks.”

“The Ring is expecting you and Ansel, but I do not see Miss Keene’s name here. You can wait out here, Miss Keene.”

“No, I will be going in as well,” said Griffa firmly. “Don’t worry, Felix, they will see me, and you will not get into trouble.”

“But Miss Keene, I was told only to let Ansel and the young king in today,” said Felix looking worried.

“Are you going to stop me?” Griffa asked. Her eyes were so dark blue, they were almost black.

Felix said nothing.

“That is what I thought. Come along Ansel, Max. Don’t worry, Felix, I know the way.”

Ansel groaned, but he knew better than to reason with Griffa now. He followed her down the hallway to the large double doors at the end. She knocked three times.

“Enter,” came a voice from the other side that Ansel recognized as Hector Delis.

Griffa took a deep breath, opened the doors, and strode in confidently. Ansel followed with Max close on his heels.

The room was large and well lit. There were several windows along the walls letting in the sunlight. In the middle of the room was a large round table with nine chairs. All of the chairs were filled with the most important men and women from the magical folk. All eyes turned on the three as they entered the room, some completely turning in their chairs to get a good look.

“Welcome,” said Hector. His eyes fell on Griffa. “Gryphon, what an unexpected surprise. I didn’t know you would be joining us today.”

Griffa opened her mouth to speak but before she could talk, Helmer who held the second seat of the Ring stood up and spoke angrily, “What are you doing here, girl? You were not summoned. You have no place here.”

Griffa narrowed her eyes. Ansel felt himself immediately go on guard as he moved a little closer to Griffa. He had been afraid this would happen. It was no secret Helmer had no love for the Keene family. He had tolerated Renweard because he was the head of the Ring, but Helmer had never approved of Griffa. Ansel believed he saw her as an opportunity to do away with the Keene family power forever.

“Young Gryphon has as much right to be here as you, Helmer,” said a wispy voice from the seat across from him. “Or have you forgotten that she could take her place in the seat next to you whenever she wanted?”

It was the diviner. She was a tiny old woman, very old. She sat wrapped in many scarfs in her seat on a huge cushion. Her white hair was long and straight and wrapped around her like a protective cloak. Her large eyes were cloudy and gray. She was staring directly at Helmer.

“She gave that right up. She has no place here,” sneered Helmer.

“She has stepped aside for now, but one day she will take her place. Welcome young Gryphon. Come and sit by me.” The diviner motioned for the servant who was against the wall to pull up a chair.

Gryphon nodded at the old diviner.

“I thank you Madam Sidora,” said Griffa, “but for now I will stand with Ansel and Max.”

Madam Sidora nodded and waved the servant with the chair away. Helmer gave a small growl but sat down, an angry look on his face.

“Now, said Hector. “Let us meet our young king, come stand here.” He pointed to a spot just beside him in the eye line of Madam Sidora. Max, Griffa, and Ansel walked over to the indicated spot. Many shifted in their seats or turned their chairs around to better see the trio.

“This is Maxwell of the blood of Adalwen. That is correct, Ansel?” asked Hector looking at Max.

“Yes. I collected him after his birth from his parents and sent him to live in the village of Clarton. He has grown up safely, but with little knowledge of his lineage or magic. He is here now to learn and to claim his throne,” said Ansel.

“He has come to learn and decide if he wants to claim the throne,” said Griffa. “Max has made no decision.”

“There is no decision to make. He is the king. He will have to claim his place and soon,” said a man a few chairs down from Madam Sidora.

“He won’t be forced into this, Gorm,” said Griffa.

“Max will train, claim his magical abilities, and learn about the history of the kingdom. He will make a decision about being king at that time. I trust he will make the right choise,” said Ansel.

“What does the young king have to say for himself,” asked a brown hair woman in the circle. “He can speak for himself, can’t he?”

Max looked at Ansel, and Ansel nodded his head.

“I’m not sure. I think I would like to study magic. I haven’t learned much yet, but what I have learned I find interesting. It feels right. I think with Ansel and Griffa’s help, I can learn a lot more. If you are asking me if I really believe I am the king, I’m not sure what to say. So much has happened so fast. I can promise I will listen and think about it. I just need more time.”

Low murmurs rumbled around the Ring.

“We could expedite his understanding, couldn’t we? If we unlock his magical ability, he will claim his place as king. There are ways aren’t there?” asked another man in the Ring. This one with dark brown hair and crooked teeth.

“There are ways,” said Helmer. “Ways to unlock his ability in an instant. There are old spells and potions, and I know I could do it.”

“No,” stated Griffa firmly, glaring at Helmer. “Absolutely not. What you are suggesting is blood magic and it is against every decent thing in the kingdom. You will not subject Max or anybody to those evil ways.”

“It’s not as bad as all that. No sacrifices are even required, just a gift, a few drops of blood. No one has to get permanently harmed,” explained Helmer.

“No one except the one who takes it. Whatever you say about a sacrifice, if you take blood, if you use dark magic, a price has to be paid, and Max will not pay that price. If you want to build a kingdom worth living in this has to be done right,” said Griffa pacing around the circle.

“Now see here, you have no power in the Ring,” said Helmer pounding his hand on the table. “This is an option we need to consider.”

Hector looked thoughtful. “Calm down, Helmer. Gryphon is right. What you are suggesting is not safe. We are not that desperate, not yet. There is some time. Ansel, do you have a training schedule for our young king?”

Ansel nodded and produced some parchment. He had written down all he had planned for Max’s training. Hector looked it over and nodded before passing it around the circle.

“I see you plan on using this Keene girl to train the king,” grunted Helmer.

“He is and he should,” said Madam Sidora. “She will become a valuable ally to the king. If you want the king to succeed, he will need Gryphon.”

Hector nodded and looked at Ansel. “And you said you and the king will be staying at Keene Manor?”

“Yes, it is one of the most secure houses in Abscon, and the grounds and house are perfect for training. Max will never be left alone or unprotected there.”

Helmer made a noise as if he was going to protest, but Hector held up a hand. “Very good, I see no reason to argue about this. Are we all in agreement?” The Ring all nodded, except Helmer. Hector raised his eyebrows.

“Fine, I’m in agreement,” said Helmer, “but we should keep all of our options open.”

“Very well,” said Hector standing. “We will expect regular reports of the young king’s progress, and you will visit again at the beginning of the next moon cycle, agreed?”

Ansel nodded his head in agreement.

“I will escort you out. Go on with the other business, Helmer,” said Hector. He walked Max, Griffa, and Ansel out of the room and down the hall.

“Good, now make sure you give the boy some time for fun too. We have our harvest celebration in six nights time. I hope to see him there,” said Hector with a grin.

“Yes,” said Ansel. Something jogged in Ansel’s memory. “Also, I will be taking the boy back to Clarton for their Harvestide festival. It was a promise I made to Max, and I don’t want to break it.”

“Do you think that is wise?” asked Hector. “Will it be safe?”

“I will check before we go if anything seems amiss, but I think one night won’t hurt. Max’s old guardians and friends will want to hear from him. I will take a few of the protector’s guards I have been managing. I imagine Griffa will want to come as well,” said Ansel looking at Griffa.

She looked at Ansel with wide eyes and nodded her head.

“Very well. I don’t think I will let the Ring know about that today. Maybe sneak it into the next meeting’s business,” said Hector with a wink at Max. “I wish you all a good day.”

Hector bowed to the three of them. Ansel and Max nodded, and Griffa gave a shallow curtsy. Hector turned and walked back to the meeting room

Ansel heard Max exhale as though he had been holding his breath. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“It wasn’t that bad, was it Max?” asked Ansel as they walked back towards Keene Manor.

“No, but I don’t like the one called Helmer. He seemed angry,” said Max.

“No one likes Helmer,” said Griffa with a huff. “Don’t worry about him, Max. He is just full of a bunch of hot hair. He won’t really do anything.”

Ansel wasn’t sure about that, but he wasn’t going to bring that up now.

“Thank you for remembering your promise, Ansel,” said Max. “I really want to see Danin and Nora again.”

“And your Issa of course,” said Griffa teasingly. She turned to Ansel with a sweet smile on her face. “That was good of you, Ansel. What a nice treat for Max. And us as well. I love a good village party.”

Ansel smiled back at Griffa, happy that she seemed pleased. He liked it when she smiled at him like that. She hooked her arm in his, and Ansel found he was in a particularly good mood.

He bent down as they were walking and whispered into Griffa’s ear, “You look very fetching today. I quite like it when you dress like you’re the queen of Abscon.”

Griffa’s cheeks turned red, and she swatted playfully at Ansel’s arm.

“Oh, come on. Let’s get back. We will need lunch, and then I think you have a full afternoon of training, Max,” said Griffa.

Later that night Ansel lay in his bed, asleep. His head was full of dreadful dreams. He didn’t know why, but he was running through Keene Manor looking for Griffa. He felt like he had to find her that instant or something terrible would happen. He went to every room, but she was nowhere to be found.

Ansel’s magic had come to the surface of his skin, reaching out. He could almost hear it calling Griffa’s name. He called her name out loud, but she did not answer. He became frantic, his breath coming fast. Rooms and doors blurred together until he felt like he was running through a maze. His heart beat wildly as he called for Griffa again and again. His magic was in a frenzy.

He felt like he would be stuck in the never-ending cycle of looking and calling, until he saw something in the room ahead. He ran forward and saw Griffa lying on the floor, her dark red curls splayed around her. He ran to her saying her name. As he reached her, he saw a pool of dark blood by her side.

“No,” he said, “Griffa.”

He reached down and turned Griffa towards him. He saw her lifeless dark blue eyes staring back at him, and he let out a cry of agony which woke him up. He sat up in his bed sweating and breathing hard. He rubbed his face, trying to get the image of Griffa’s lifeless eyes out of his mind.

He knew sleep was impossible. What he needed was to see Griffa, alive and well, but he wouldn’t not wake her up just because of a stupid dream. He sat in his bed. His magic was unsettled, and it rolled through him, making him feel queasy.

Ansel decided to get up and go to one of the places he felt Griffa’s presence most, her father’s study. He had spent many rainy days sitting by her, reading in the big chairs by the fire. Ansel quickly dressed. He lit a candle by his bed with a snap and made his way out of his room, down the stairs, and to the study. His heart and breath still wouldn’t slow down completely. The dream replayed in his mind as he made his way to through the parlor.

He opened the door to the study and was surprised to see a fire was lit. He walked over to the chairs and saw dark red curls tumbling down the sides. His heart skipped a beat as he placed his candle down on a table. He hurriedly walked over to the front of the chairs. There was Griffa curled up in her nightgown, reading a large book.

“Ansel, what is the matter?” she asked, looking up at him.

Without thinking he grabbed her. She dropped her book as he crushed her to him in a possessive hug. Her arms automatically went around him, and he kissed the top of her head and rested his chin against her soft hair. His magic settled within him, making him feel calm. Her warmth spread over him, and he felt at peace once more.

He eventually let her go and she stood in front of him with a worried look on her face.

“Ansel is everything ok?” she asked.

She reached up to touch his face, and he leaned into her palm, closing his eyes.

“Yes,” he murmured. “Just bad dreams.”

She took her hand back, and he opened his eyes. They stared at each other for what felt like forever to Ansel. He looked at her in the light of the fire. Her eyes were a soft midnight blue. Her hair was messy from laying in the chair. He studied her long eyelashes and her upturned nose. He desperately wanted to place little kisses on them. His gaze went to her small mouth and pouty lips. He remembered what it was like to claim those with his own, and his mouth went dry. She continued to stare at him.

“Will you read to me, Griffa?” he finally croaked. “Read to me, until I feel like going back to bed?”

She smiled and nodded. He sat down heavily in one of the chairs in the fire as she curled up in her own chair. She started reading to him an old story about a queen who falls in love with her protector. Ansel felt soothed by her soft voice as she told him a tale he had heard many times before. Eventually he felt his eyes close as he fell asleep to Griffa’s voice.

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