Raven's Heart (𝓒𝓞𝓜𝓟𝓛𝓔𝓣𝓔)

CHAPTER TWENTY_ONE

Their journey was leisurely, and the countryside they were riding through was just as beautiful as the rest of Ranfurly. The more Anaya saw of the land and the people, the more enamored she became. The richness of the lands and the general contentment and prosperity of the people made her feel proud. This was the result of the manner of rule Ranfurly embodied.

The folk they passed were deferential, but in a friendly, affectionate way. Their respect stemmed from a real regard not a mere duty owed the Dukedom. Her husband, like her father, had earned the esteem his people gave him.

Hardships came and could hit anyone, but in their lands there was recourse and help to be found. The measures put in place to help those in want were not mere handouts. There were loans available to those in financial hardship, food for the hungry and each of the military barracks also had temporary housing for those without a roof over their heads.

Several times people along their path made a point of coming to their entourage to offer gratitude and thanks to their Duke for help received. One such family, upon hearing that the Duke was passing through, stood in the road arm in arm to tender their thanks for the support they had been given, and offer them the fruits of their labors, made possible by the Duke's programs. They had gone from homeless and destitute to the owners of a fine bakery, and the bread served with the meal that night was all the sweeter for the gratitude it carried with it.

As they drew near to the capitol the following day, Anaya was glad for the slow approach and their stopping at Ranfurly. As big as their keep was, it was dwarfed by the castle alone, much less the royal keep. The Neori Hriovat—the lower branch of the river they had followed—split into two parts called the Vathring that encircled a large island. It was upon this island that Montclaire was built.

From the crossroads below the city, the spires of the castle could be seen rising above the high walls. The same granite that formed the walls also formed the castle. It was a beautiful rock, formed in swirls of dark blue veined with silver. The walls were high enough so as to be impossible to get over without a siege tower or ladder, and close enough to the river to make either impossible. The gates were made up of two layers of thick wooden planks, bound with steel.

An entire city lay behind the wall of Montclaire. Artesian springs guaranteed fresh water and foodstuffs were stored away in the coolness of caves in the encircling mountains. Sandor told her that the city could withstand a prolonged siege and—unless the enemy was extremely observant—they could restock the city by means of the river, which ran through the rock at the foundations of the castle. There was a dock and a warehouse hidden in the depths of the cave.

Sandor watched carefully, aware that the sheer size of the Capital could be overwhelming to any first time visitor. Argian, mindful of her rider's urging, moved closer to Champagne and he felt his wife's hand on his thigh. The girls rode behind them—one with Sophie and one with Lasha. He took hold of Anaya's hand and squeezed it gently.

Next to Ranfurly, this was the place he loved best on Earth. Whenever they would visit, he and Kenet had roamed the streets of Montclaire, getting into boyish mischief. Those long ago carefree days after his father's second marriage held an aura of perfection that was untarnished by reality. Death had not loomed its head and all had been right in his ten-year-old world. Such was the love and respect for the crown in the city that the prince was perfectly safe running free just like any other lad.

"Kenet and I ran all over this city when we were boys," he said, smiling at the memory. "My father and King Caedmon taught us how to climb a rock face on the back cliff."

"It's beautiful," said Anaya softly. It was. Like the high walls, the houses were made of stone blocks, and the city glistened in the sun. Different colors of granite from all over Enniskillen and beyond—colors of pink, blue, gray and black with tiny sparkling crystals—made the stone blocks anything but plain.

The made their way through the city past people who looked healthy and content. Now and again someone would bow or call out the name of Ranfurly as they passed. It was plain to Anaya that her husband was held in great respect by the people here, not only as a friend of the King, but in his own right. She decide that she was going to have a long talk with Sophie, and perhaps Halbern and Maddex as well, about Raven's history. A wife should know of her husband's deeds.

It was quite some time before they came at last to the gates of the Castle. It had its own wall and gate as a final defense, but it had never been used. No enemy had ever passed the gates of the city. They passed under the heavy arch and continued toward the blue and silver granite building that was larger than any she had seen.

At the top of the broad steps, King Kenet stood waiting, and beside him were an older man and woman that Anaya guessed must be his parents. The older man's black hair was streaked with gray and he wore spectacles of dark glass that were stark against his fair complexion, but in all other ways his features were mirrored in his son. While Kenet had his father's visage, he had mother's coloring. The Queen Mother was a regal woman with the same soft brown hair and kind gray eyes.