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Chapter 1.3 - Mestanya

    King Tegeere’s wife, Queen Mestanya, was all that the King could ask for.  Beautiful, intelligent, and above all was not afraid to give him a piece of her mind.


   “That is ludicrous!” Mestanya asserted. She had golden hair like her King.  It was long and folded into a delicate braid down her back.  Garbed in a gown of forest green, her striking eyes flashed with her words. “Pure lunacy, my husband!”


   A gloomy part of Tegeere agreed with his wife, but Oulen’s words echoed in his mind.  Carefully, he set down his knife and fork, before gazing steadily and firmly across the dining table at Mestanya, “We have not been at war with Andelon for many years…”


   “Husband!” the Queen snorted, “Is the passage of thirty years enough time to forget the injuries of war?”  She too set down her dining utensils, but with less gentleness than her husband.  “Might I remind you that the only reason your father sued for peace was because we could no longer field an army?  What makes you think that those black vultures from the south will ever think of us kindly?”

 

   Tegeere felt his stomach seize as those were his very same doubts, but he pressed on.  “Oulen is right, though.  We know no one else half as well as those people.  After all the blood that has been shed between us over the centuries, no one else is closer,” the King argued gently, before reaching across the fine wood table to take his Queen’s hand, “We are at a crossroads, love, and our people and our children’s lives depend upon what we decide to do here and now.”

 

   Mestanya’s eyes flashed once more as he took her palm in his, but she turned away as it was replaced with the glimmer of a tear.  Finally, she focused her gaze upon their clasped hands.  His broad hands engulfed her fine long fingers.  Mestanya's words trembled as she finally replied, “Husband, I know that what you say is true, but…” She heard her own voice catch, “But, it must not be you who goes down to plead with those people.”

 

   Tegeere blinked in surprise, “Only I can speak for our land to convince them that our needs are genuine and real!  And to…”

 

   “And to grovel at their feet?” Mestanya retorted, her fierceness returning through her tears, “No, husband, I will not let you do that to yourself or to our people.  May it be written that it was the Queen that brought her Kingdom low, but not because she was bereft of pride.”  Upon seeing Tegeere’s stricken expression, Mestanya’s voice grew soft and she squeezed his hand comfortingly, “And it is for you, I care, my love.  I would not have them throw you in irons, humiliate you with captivity, because of past injuries and ancient wars.”

 

   Tegeere turned away, his breath uneven and his arguments halted, “But, Oulen …”

 

   “No.  It is his task, not yours.  Send Oulen instead,” the Queen said firmly, “He is your closest friend, your most trusted adviser, and your champion.  If he cannot accomplish this, then no one can.”

 

   “Yes,” replied Tegeere, sadly, “He is.”

 

   The Queen looked lovingly upon her King, and squeezed his hand once more. “Now come, our meal looks to be over. Neither of us has an appetite.  Our children are with their governesses, and we shall retire to our rooms.  Speak with Oulen in the morning, my love.  It can wait until then.”

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