The Chronicle of Eboracum V...

Part Five – The New Age
 
The battle may have been won but there was still much that needed to be achieved before a quarter-century of Wallachian control could be entirely put to an end. Regents were installed and temporary governments elected as the western kingdoms sought to regain their independence. With the old ruling families annihilated by Aefon’s murderous ambitions it was not possible to return to the old way of things. Instead the liberated kingdoms celebrated and looked forward to the beginning of a new age.
 
There were also intense negotiations between Wallachia and the Lords. After the general’s demise on the Field of Firrs it was the mother of the boy-king who ruled in his stead. Fierce and proud she nevertheless understood that her husband’s armies had crumbled and the allied forces had chosen not to destroy Wallachia. The western kingdoms had no interest in domination. There were many voices of reason who insisted that no revenge would be enacted. The people of Wallachia were, in the main, innocent of the atrocities committed by Aefon and his generals. Negotiations remained ongoing for the settlement of suitable reparations and there was cautious discussion of a universal peace treaty.
 
For Benedik, however, the end of the battle signalled more simply the return home. He spent many hours on the rocky cliffs of his childhood watching the waves below crash and recede. He should not have been surprised, he supposed, to find that nature had not changed in his absence. When he had begun this journey he had decided to leave as soon as the fight was won. The people of Eboracum may have needed his martial prowess but they would be better off without him as king. Yet as the days passed he reacquainted himself with old friends, drank toasts to the prosperity of the kingdom and visited the unmarked burial place of his family. It seemed that he had constructed a life for himself here and the endless wandering within his soul felt finally at peace.
 
The Guardian had spoken the truth when she told him that he had needed to return. He smiled wryly to himself as he flicked his wrist and sent one of the stones in his hand tumbling down into the white spray of water.
 
“You will stay then?” It was as if he had summoned her with his thoughts. For a moment he continued to study the small rock in the palm of his hand, smoothing its rough surface with the pad of his thumb. He gave a great deal of thought to the equally small word before he gave it voice.
 
“Yes.” He turned to her, his eyes blinking furiously to adjust to the supernatural brightness that surrounded the Guardian. “I don’t know who I shall be or what I shall do, but whatever it is I belong here to this land.” His hand flattened to the ground as if he could feel the very heartbeat of the earth beneath him. “Thank you.” They were foolish words perhaps when spoken to a deity but they were honest ones. “You saved my life all those years ago and you came back for me. I see now that somehow I could never have stopped waiting or hoping.”
 
“You exceeded all our expectations. Your father always believed you would become greater than merely your name. In these past weeks you have proven yourself your own man. Greatness cannot be inherited nor is it a title. Everything that you are comes from within.”She laid a cool and gentle hand on his shoulder, the comfort easing through his bones like water. Her gown brushed across his arm as she turned and left, leaving an air of serenity in her wake.
 
Evening had arrived in Eboracum whilst Benedik had been meditating the future on the shoreline. There was a festival in full swing when he returned to the city. The people were dressed in their finery, no matter how shabby or outdated it had become in the intervening years. Food and wine rationing had been suspended for the night and everyone enjoyed the plentiful feast to its fullest.
 
He wove amongst the excited revellers and dancers, acknowledging their greetings with a friendly if somewhat distracted smile. He was close to the entrance of the royal citadel when he was stopped by an old friend. Viridian had been the son of a wealthy merchant and together they had got up to all sorts of pranks and mischief as boys. They had already slipped easily back into their old routine.
 
“Benedik! – Come my friend, have a drink.”
 
“Not yet. I have something I need to do first.” Viridian frowned, his handsome face flushed from too much of the fine wine.
 
“No!” He exclaimed petulantly, slinging a heavy arm across his friend’s shoulders. “Tonight there’s nothing more important to do than decide which girl you want to go home with.” He said winking meaningfully. “I reckon you’ve got a good chance, what with being the hero of Eboracum.”
 
“Later. I promise. But I want to make an announcement first.” Benedik distracted his friend with a fresh and over-filled goblet before making his escape. Once he had reached the throne room, however, he began to wish he’d had that drink.
 
Up until now he had managed to avoid entering the room. The last time he had stood there his family’s blood had stained the stone-flagged floor. He could still remember his mother’s lifeless body spread heavily across his younger siblings as she had fruitlessly attempted to protect them. Yet as he confronted the darkness it was clear that the room was not the monster he had created in his memories. It was an echoing shell, gutted by the Wallachian principals who had governed in Aefon’s place. Little was recognisable of the chamber in which he had also learnt at his father’s feet about duty, honour and courage. Time had wrought its changes on this room as visibly as it had on him. Benedik breathed deeply, settling the jangling of his nerves and trembling of his fingers. It was time to look forward to the future instead of constantly looking back.
 
Stepping out onto the royal balcony he quietly watched the revellers below him for several minutes. As a few faces started to turn and look up curiously at him, Benedik began to address the crowd.
 
“Citizens of Eboracum!” His voice carried in the stillness of the night air. A few of the more vocal members of the gathering gave a cheer at his appearance. He suspected that Viridian was amongst them. They were hushed impatiently by the others. “I want to thank you. Without each and every one of you we would not be here to celebrate tonight. A new age is dawning throughout the western kingdoms and we are a part of that change. My father was a great king, but I am not my father. I will not rule as his successor simply because I carry his name. Eboracum will be free to choose its king on merit.” He trailed off, realising that he had been gripping the balustrade fiercely with white knuckles. Pushing away from the railings he had half turned when there was a loud cry from amongst the crowd.
 
“King Benedik!” The single voice was joined by three and then ten others as the cry spread until finally it deafened him. He was to be the king that the people had chosen. There would of course still be many intricacies to cope with come the morning, but for now Benedik allowed the tears to flow unchecked. This was not the end of his journey, which he had begun so many weeks before as the Nomad, but merely the beginning of a new chronicle for himself and for Eboracum.