Chapter Four

Richard rode at the head of the column on Nightwing. Wallace and Roy rode on either side of him. As usual, they were finding amusement in teasing Richard unmercifully.

"Even when we were children she always liked him best!" declared Roy.

"Aye! I remember that time when we stole into Cook's larder and ate the peach preserves," said Wallace. "I received such a tanning, that to this day I still think twice before I sit down!" 

"And our studies . . . Barbara *always* helped him with his Latin more so than she did us!" Roy added.

"Especially in conjugations. Remember *ama*, *amas*, *am--" began Wallace. Annoyed, Richard pulled back on Nightwing's reins and interrupted him. He made an abrupt slashing motion with his gauntleted hand.

"Enough! You two missed your calling. You should have been court jesters. Now, you'd best mind your tongues," he added deadly serious. "The lady said *yes*! Any remarks made now, even in jest, are a direct insult and invite a challenge." He looked at them both in turn, his hard blue eyes narrowed. "Do you I make myself clear?"

Both Wallace and Roy swallowed.

"Of course, Richard!" "You only have our best wishes!" "Aye! The Lady Barbara is a gracious beauty." Richard nodded sharply.

"I'm riding back to check the column," he said. "Take over, Wallace!"

Wallace saluted smartly. He turned to Roy and said sotto voce, "I don't know what married life to that hellcat is going to be like . . . but I suspect that it will not be dull!" They both threw back their heads and guffawed. Wallace added, "Take the point, Sir Roy, before we say something that will result in our being skewered at the end of a Grayson claymore!"

"Aye, Sir Wallace!" Roy gave him a mock salute and spurred his horse to ride on ahead.

The column rode at a killing pace. Richard could not chance the royal party being overcome by any of the dark forces, which he and Wayne had encountered previously. Therefore, they made record time arriving at Fountain Abbey after being on the road less than sixty hours. When they cleared the hill that overlooked the abbey, Richard sent Sir Roy on ahead bearing the Wayne Honor Colors to inform His Majesty of their arrival.

Within a few minutes, the Wayne Colors, a black bird on a field of midnight blue, were hung from the gates as a sign of welcome. Three figures suddenly ran out the gates and began waving. Richard's sharp eyes made out Roy accompanied by her Royal Highness, Princess Donna; the third figure he couldn't recognize from this distance. Richard waved in salutation. Turning, he called the column forward.

"Dicky! Dicky!" Donna waved happily from the side of the graveled path as the Wayne Honor Guard rode proudly through the front gates. Richard waved and smiled, too glad to see his beloved cousin to feel annoyed at the use of the childhood nickname. Next to her stood . . . Richard did a double-take . . . the Minnow?! This fully-grown *man* couldn't be the same Prince Garth, that he remembered from childhood. Why he was as tall as Richard now!

"How now, cousin?" Garth waved grinning. "Yes, it is I . . . the Minnow . . . I've grown a bit since last we met!" The children had nicknamed Prince Garth, the Minnow, as much for his diminutive size as for his love of swimming. Richard shook his head, shot his two cousins a friendly wave, then concentrated on leading the column in a parade to present to his King.

Their Royal Majesties stood on the balcony overlooking the graveled path leading to the abbey's monastery. The column paraded smartly below, demonstrating superior horsemanship. As one they came to a halt directly below the balcony. Richard rode Nightwing to center front. In a single motion, he drew his sword and saluted his King and Queen.

"Honor Guard . . . present arms!" As one, fifty sabers flashed in the late morning sun. Holding his saber at his right shoulder, Richard turned Nightwing and rode down the column inspecting the line. He returned to center front and again saluted smartly with his saber. "Your Most Gracious Majesties, I bring you greetings from your most humble and loyal servant, Bruce Lord Wayne! This Honor Guard is presented to your Majesties to escort you on your safe journey to Castle Wayne. Do you accept this token of Lord Wayne's servitude?"

King Orrin solemnly nodded his acceptance. Queen Diana spoke for them.

"We accept this token of Lord Wayne's servitude with gratitude. But who is this handsome knight who serves as Captain of the Honor Guard? Surely this isn't my beloved sister's son . . . my own dear nephew, Dicky Grayson?" Richard thought he heard a snort, quickly smothered, coming from the ranks. Women! Why must I always be the butt of their jokes? Still this was his queen. Richard smiled weakly and bowed his head.

"Aye, Your Most Gracious Majesty. It is I, your nephew, Sir Richard Grayson." Queen Diana smiled then blew him a kiss. This time Richard heard a few more coughs and snorts from the ranks. He felt his ears burning hotly.

"Sir Richard, you may dismiss the guard . . . the monks will show them to their quarters and the stables. Please, when you're finished with your duties, join your uncle the king, and myself here in the guest quarters!"

Richard bowed his head in acquiescence.  "Sergeant of the Guard!" The sergeant rode quickly to the head of the column. "Take over, sergeant. See to the horses and the men."

The noncom nodded. "I shall personally bed down Nightwing, sir . . . Never in all my life have I ever seen a finer horse than he." Richard grinned. If the sergeant were trying to get in his good graces, praising Nightwing would certainly do the trick. Richard dismounted and tossed the reins to the noncom.

"Give the old boy an extra helping of oats, Sergeant. He's certainly earned it!"

As the sergeant led Nightwing away, Donna came running up the path, her arms opened wide in welcome.

"Dicky! Oh, Dicky! I'm so happy to *see* you!" she cried. Richard ran up to her and spun her around in his arms.

"And I you, cousin!" he replied smiling. Garth came up to them and slapped Richard on the back.

"Dicky, well met, cousin! When are you going to leave that godforsaken North Country and come back to civilization and reside with us in the royal palace in Metropolis?" Richard released Donna and shook Garth's proffered hand.

"Never, cousin! For there is no more wonderful country in all the realm than that of the North . . . unless of course, you consider my ancestral home in the Lowlands." Garth rolled his eyes. He'd heard *this* before! Garth might love Richard like a brother, but he believed him to be *so* provincial!

"What news from the North Country, cousin?" Garth asked. "Do you still sit by the fields and watch the corn grow? Still spend your live long days moving rocks from a farmer's field to mend the decaying walls of Castle Wayne?"

"Aye, Your Highness, the corn grows green in the warm spring sun. Thank you for asking; your loyal subjects will rejoice in gladness when they hear of the immense interest you show about their daily toil. As for the walls of Castle Wayne . . . they have stood nigh unto twelve generations of Waynes. You need not worry, my prince, that this is the year the Wayne battlements will tumble."

Garth cleared his throat in embarrassment. Richard grinned at his royal cousin's obvious discomfiture.

"Oh, as for news . . . well, my dear cousins, I bring only the most joyful tidings. Roy! Wallace! Come, let us join my dear uncle and aunt in the guest chambers, for the news I bear are for my dearest friends and family to share!"

****

Queen Diana kissed her nephew on both cheeks at the news.

"I'm so happy for you, dear Richard, and I know that your mother and father would have heartily approved. They both thought the world of Barbara, and I wouldn't put it past my dear sister Mary that she might not have even secretly planned the whole thing."

"Oh, Mother, really," chided Donna. "How could dear Aunt Mary have planned such a thing? Dicky and Barbara were years apart then; why Barbara used to mind us children whenever we visited Graetheson Court. I remember clearly how Dicky used to drive her to distraction, always sneaking out of the castle gates!"

"Even back then our cousin was getting women to chase shamelessly after him," said Garth amusedly.

"Aye, Your Highness! Richard has all the maids in the North Country sighing in their sleep," said Roy helpfully.

"But now that I'm betrothed to the fairest maiden of them all, Roy," Dick said good-naturedly, "they'll likely turn their broken hearts in *your* direction for mending."

"Oh, really?" asked Donna icily, her chin tilted haughtily, narrowed eyes glaring at Roy. Richard and Garth exchanged amused glances. The relationship between Donna and Roy could best be described as a dog with fleas. They found each other to be a constant source of irritation, but they nonetheless loved to scratch the itch. Roy raised a single eyebrow in his usual smirk.

"What can I say, Your Highness? The ladies find me irresistible!"

"And what of me?" protested Wallace. "Am I to die of a lonely old age? Richard, you must send me my fair share!"

"Fair share of what?" The gathering turned towards the newcomer.

"Uncle Barry!" Wallace cried happily. He quickly crossed the drawing room and hugged his favorite uncle in greeting. "Well met, Uncle! How fairs my dear Aunt Iris?" Sir Barry smiled broadly, happy to see his nephew. Seeing the royal family in the room, he immediately greeted his sovereigns formally.

"Your Majesties, forgive the intrusion . . . but when I heard that my nephew was here on the Abbey's grounds--"

"No apology needed, Sir Barry," Orrin said. "The Queen and I know what it is like to greet a much beloved nephew." Orrin smiled at Richard when he said this. "Besides the Queen's Champion is entitled to interrupt the Royal Family in order to carry out his duties." Sir Barry had the reputation of being the fastest swordsman in the realm and as such had earned the title of Queen's Champion.

"And where is that speedy rascal, Roy Harper?" Sir Oliver Queen made a sudden appearance. Sir Oliver was the King's Champion and the finest archer in the entire realm. He'd raised Roy since infancy and taught him everything he knew about archery and weapons. Roy's expertise was second only to Sir Oliver's.

"Oliver! How now, King's Champion?" Roy greeted easily. "I heard up in the North Country that you missed a shot some three months past. Is there any truth to this vile rumor?"

The others held their collective breaths. Richard could suddenly hear the Guards' horses whinnying in stables, almost two hundred yards away. Sir Oliver's sky blue eyes narrowed instantly.

"I shot ten consecutive arrows into a target three hundred yards away. Each arrow sliced through the previous arrow in the bullseye . . . but one . . . one was struck by a sudden gust of wind and hit the target a hairsbreadth off center. Thus, it merely grazed the previous arrow, rather than fully slicing it."

Roy crossed his arms and studied his guardian unsympathetically. "I see . . . and what have you done to correct the error since then?" Sir Oliver's face was by now set in a deep grimace. He advanced on Roy, then when he got within an arm's length, he suddenly broke into a belly laugh and grabbed his ward by the waist, lifting him like a small child.

"Roy Harper, you rascal! I thought proximity to that old cold fish, Wayne, would cure you of your saucy tongue. I see I was wrong!" Oliver laughed happily unmindful of the Royal family's presence. "Let me look at you, lad!" Oliver held Roy at arms length. "You've grown since last we met. Aye, you're a good handsbreadth taller. And skinnier . . . don't they feed you over at Castle Wayne? Or are they too busy catching your arrows in mid-flight?"

It was Roy's turn to look discomfited. "How did you--?"

"A little night bird told me," Oliver said enigmatically. Oliver was referring to an incident that had reached almost legendary proportions in the North Country. Roy had aimed a blunt-tipped arrow at Lord Wayne in jest, and without turning, Wayne had reached his hand out at the last possible moment and caught it in mid-flight. Roy was still trying to live it down.

"He *caught* it, Oliver! Without even turning . . . he *caught* it!"

"I see . . . and what have you done to correct the error since then?" Oliver asked unsympathetically. Guardian and ward looked into each other's eyes and burst out in hearty laughter.

"Now that that's over with," Barry said, shaking his head, "how goes it, Richard? What tidings do you bring from the North Country?"

Chapter Five

Home Page FAQs GCPD Archive Fan-Fiction Archive Links

The Legal Stuff - Batman and related characters are the property of DC Comics. This is an unofficial web site and is not endorsed by or affiliated with DC Comics. All stories present on this site are the copyright of each writer, except for those characters and places that are copyright DC Comics. This web site is designed to provide people with information and entertainment relating to the DC Comics' Batman character and is not in any way a profit-making enterprise.