Chapter 6

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Lord Farey lived with his daughter and son-in-law in a small house on the outskirts of Frencberg. He rarely went out and it was only when called to meet with the lords and senior knights of the kingdom that he did so. It was time for him to leave with his family to attend the betrothal ceremony in the great banqueting hall of King's Castle.

The lord's horse was saddled and waiting at the door for the old man to mount. Therefore, it was of great surprise to him to hear that the King of Frencolia, dressed in the attire of a young noble-man, had arrived at his door, soliciting his counsel. The two body-guards and Sabin, as well as two other counsellors —Lord Peters and Lord Shellac —were with the young king.

Having bowed to his king, Lord Farey kissed the ring on Luke's right hand before acknowledging the others. Luke did not miss that the elderly lord gave the greeting of a hug and a kiss on each cheek to both Loran and Granville but he had no time to muse on the fact that they must be acquainted in a familiar, or family, way, perhaps related.

King Luke outlined the dilemma.

Lord Farey was the oldest lord and Luke knew his experience and wisdom were of great value.

"I agree with you, Your Majesty. The answer lies in the word 'contest'. You must seek a bloodless contest." Lord Farey, stroking his long white beard, smiled a far-away smile and like most elderly people, his thoughts became anchored in the past. "Your father had to compete in a joust for the hand of your mother," he declared. "Your father lost. Dorai won the joust, and your mother had the choice; King Leopold or Sir Louis Chatelain. Everyone expected her to choose the king of course, but she chose your father. It was preordained, I'm sure of it."

Luke couldn't remember hearing this story before. He turned to Sabin, querying, "Women were involved as competitors? Mother had her brother as champion?"

"Yes, Sire. I was a small lad, barely off my mother's breast, perhaps about four or five years old. I remember both my father and mother telling the tale over and over; there were several knights killed," Sabin said.

Lord Farey spoke again, "Yes, both your mother, Elissa, and the late Queen Estelle were competitors. Each had a champion, as did King Leopold and your father. King Friedrich ordered the contest before he died. And then, that young knight, Sir Luke —your namesake, Your Majesty —he was killed by that criminal, Dagan..." Lord Farey's body snapped upright in his chair, as he continued, "But, Sire, we must keep to the present. You must do the best you can for our kingdom. Act with all the information you have; in prayer and in earnest. To deny a contest will be to shake your fist in Bavarest's face. You must plan an acceptable contest that has no bloodshed, then you must pray that your sister receives the husband God intends for her."

"How can God do that?" Luke asked. "Would it not be better to cancel the contest? Can we not put troops on our borders and prevent the enemy from entering? Won't Prince Haroun soon find someone else to marry?"

"Ah, Luke, you would seek the ideal. But the minds of men do not and Prince Haroun would likely count your sister more important as a wife to be won, like a valuable trophy to be owned. As a peace-loving king, you want less bloodshed but most men seek it, indeed, the populace thrives on disputes and duels! It's all in the nature we inherited from Adam. Remember Cain? And Joseph's brothers? They could not live peaceably. Ask any young man if he would like to go to war. Their inexperience with slaughter and bloodshed makes war exciting, glamorous even. Most men, after tasting victory in war, seek more conquests to gain more victories. Prince Haroun seeks only a duel with King Konrad but you must beware or he will bring war upon Frencolia. Would not a small contest be a better choice?"

"You, you truly believe that Prince Haroun would declare war on us?" Luke asked, his voice breaking as his eyes circled his counsellors.

"They out-number us three-to-one," Lord Shellac said, "and Frencolia is a prize worth battling for. Whoever wins, everyone loses! Frencolia stands to lose the most because the battles would be fought upon our soil. Bavarest would seek to take each village, each town, each castle, one by one until only the capital alone remains. There would be sieges, injuries, sickness and death." He coughed as he swallowed, then said, "They would not feel vindicated until your sister was captured, and you, Sire, were either dead or their prisoner to be further humiliated."

Lord Peters joined the counsel, saying, "Many wars have been fought over issues such as a prince or a king desiring a princess. And about Prince Haroun —I know his father, King Jarvis —they will accept the results of a contest but they won't accept your cancellation of their Royal Challenge. Whatever you decide, I believe that King Konrad will still have to fight the duel with Prince Haroun, perhaps in his own kingdom, and whoever wins will then seek to claim your sister. If we could be sure King Konrad would win..." He bowed his head.

Lord Farey sighed and said, "Your father is right, Luke. Kingship is burdensome for those who seek peace."

Lord Shellac spoke again, "King Leopold battled within himself about the same matters. He used to say, 'How can a gospel of love and peace work in Frencolia when there are neighboring kingdoms who would sooner spill blood than discuss peace?'"

"If I may speak, Your Majesty?" Loran asked. At Luke's nod of encouragement, he said, "It is great wisdom and humility that you display in your acceptance of counsel, Sire, and your choice of a bloodless contest will bring the best outcome all around. Ruben of the Bible, Joseph's brother, sought a different way when his brothers determined to kill Joseph. He said that innocent blood should not be shed in the land. His intervention caused Joseph not to be murdered, but sold as a slave, giving God time and opportunity to fulfill His plan for Joseph's dreams to come true. Seeking a different way when others are determined to spill blood is both wise and life-preserving."

"Amen!" Granville agreed and the others in the room joined him with this affirmation. "There's a verse in the Psalms, Sire, that tells us to commit our way to the Lord and to trust in Him and He will bring it to pass." Granville said and bowed.

"Thank you, Granville —and Loran," Luke said, pleased with the revelation, today, that these men were not just bodyguards but knew appropriate Scriptures and could quote them with such understanding. They will make great counsellors who follow me around everywhere, he told himself, perceiving their value with different eyes. I wonder if my Uncle knows of their knowledge of God's Words... He frowned at his thoughts, wondering why he would ever think that his uncle would not appreciate them in this way. He could hear Dorai's voice in his mind, telling him that Loran and Granville were not counsellors but bodyguards. He pulled himself from his thoughts as Lord Farey began to round off their counsel, realizing he was bowing his head and there had been a deep silence.

"We trust we've helped you, King Luke, but the decision does rest upon your young shoulders." On trembling legs, the old man stood and bowed. "We will —we must —pray earnestly for you to receive extra wisdom, King Luke, our King.

"Just one more thing to remember is that God is in control when we pray and ask His guidance; He will never allow a mistake to be made when He is consulted and His Word and Will are sought first. It is when we make decisions without praying that we have made our first mistake..." He reached for Luke's hand and kissed it. "We will wait and pray until we hear the outcome."

Feeling dismissed and still burdened, Luke took his leave and rode again, across the back bridge, to Kings Castle. He bounded up the stairs, halting briefly to see if the woman across the moat still prayed, feeling encouraged that she did but not wishing to take precious time, he rushed to his sister's side. Ignoring the company of sober-faced women, he drew a footstool up to the couch where she sat.

"I'm feeling better, much better!" Jobyna said cheerfully, "I've been praying, and we read some verses."

"There has to be a contest, Jobyna, I can't prevent it. If King Konrad and Prince Haroun leave Frencolia, I'll be unable to prevent a duel." He saw the ladies' faces change to that of surprise and dread.

"I haven't told anyone about it," Jobyna whispered. She stood and said, "Shall we walk and talk —as before?"

Luke's eyes met with those of the new lady-in-waiting, and he nodded at her. Joined by Lady Ellice, Lady Victoria walked behind Jobyna and Luke. They walked in the clerestory and discussed the contest as though discussing a banquet only both agreed it must not be a sword fight. Luke pointed out the lone figure, kneeling, across the moat.

"She must have a deep burden. We should pray for her," Jobyna said when her eyes focused on the miniature woman. The brother and sister talked of their plan, and still, the woman, like a statue, knelt.

They laughed about their strategy, and Luke kissed his sister's cheeks, amazed that she could take in hand the astonishing reversal of this day without falling apart completely. 

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