Treason, p.20
Treason, page 20
part #1 of Treason and Truth Series
“Aye, problem is, Sire, you’re the King. If you’re unhappy, what business has everyone else with smiling?”
“A sensible one. There is little point the whole world living in misery.”
“Look, can I make a suggestion?” (The King nodded.) “Take some time away from here. Go to Ceardlann. See the Princes. For a few days at least. Even a week. Name a Representative here.”
Adeone said, “You are as bad as the rest of them. You do know that? You never let go of an idea. Can you imagine what would happen to that Representative?”
“Yes, sir. He’d be given all the headaches you are currently experiencing.”
“Very funny. You’re certainly my mother’s cousin!”
“Might I suggest Lord Landis?” asked Merchant Chapa innocently.
“Very funny! Can you imagine what would happen if I let Landis loose on Oedran?”
“Yes, sir. Everyone would be glad to see you return in full health and it would be a hundred times better than any other option I can envisage.”
“If I tell you to stop envisaging, what would you do?”
“I would obey my King, sir.”
There was a note to the merchant’s voice that made Adeone groan. “Go on. I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“I’d then visit our mutual cousin to unburden my mind.”
“Ah. By mutual cousin you mean the doc, don’t you?”
Merchant Chapa’s lips twitched. “Yes, sir. Mind you, you could now tell me not to and I would have to obey that.” The merchant paused. “Sir, it is your decision, of course, but I think a few days at Ceardlann would—”
“Leave it there. I follow your thoughts. Let me come, as you put it, to my decision. Will you stay and dine here this evening? For one thing, it will prevent my household from conspiring to create other diversions for me. Sometimes I just need to be left to feel and come to terms with those feelings. I know why they do what they do, but I wish they wouldn’t occasionally.”
“Why don’t you tell them, Sire?” enquired Merchant Chapa.
“They do it for good reasons. They know when to back off properly.”
“I can imagine they do, sir. For all you are your mother’s son, you are also your father’s.”
“No-one crossed my father. That is certain. Though time and heartbreak made him that man. I’m convinced of it. I fear that I will become like that some days.”
“No, sir, those days are elsewhere. Your Majesty is more your mother’s son than your father’s and you took the best from both.”
Adeone got up to refill their glasses. With his back to Merchant Chapa, he said, “Would anyone tell me if I hadn’t?”
“There’d always be one, Sire. There always is.”
“Yes.” He turned to Merchant Chapa. “You know, cousin, Simkins thinks you are only ever respectful. I doubt he’d leave us alone if he was ever disillusioned.”
Merchant Chapa smiled. “I’ll be careful not to do so then, sir. I promised your mother that I’d be honest with you and that I’d look out for you whatever happened.”
“Really?”
The merchant laughed. “Yes. It’s been an interesting job, one way or another. Especially the Guild Banquets. Your unique representation of your father there has provided the merchants with many stories over the years.”
Adeone smiled a true smile, but it was the smile of a mischievous boy. Then the illusion broke. “I find that you’re full of surprises. My father never told me.”
“He didn’t know, sir. I think your mother didn’t want your father to find out that she wished you could grow up unpretentious, level-headed and as normal as possible.”
“That makes sense. My father was ever conscious of the degrees of society. I must be as well, but I’m certainly more relaxed about it. I’d say you’ve done a good job over the years. Just one thing, why do you keep making me so much work if you promised mother to watch out for me?”
“No-one’s perfect, Sire.”
Adeone chuckled at that. With a crooked eyebrow, he said, “I think, if what you say is true, then it is time that you called me Adeone. Isn’t it?”
“Possibly, sir. Though, if it’s all the same to you, I’ll continue as normal. I’m getting to be an old man, am feeling my age. I would get confused and you wouldn’t want to do that to an old man, now would you?”
Adeone regarded him through narrowed eyes. “You’re still as sharp as ever. I’d pit you against Aunt Amara, and I wouldn’t be certain that my aunt would win. Unlike on most occasions when I would be certain everyone else would lose.”
The Chief Merchant laughed. “I shall take that as a compliment.”
“A wise move; however, I believe I made a request and your excuses so far don’t pass muster.”
Amusement sparked between them.
Merchant Chapa said, “I am sorry, sir, but I am too old fashioned to feel comfortable, cousin or no, to call you by your name.”
“Oh, I give up – for now. So how goes trade?”
“As ever. There are some nice things coming out of Bayan. The Exarch has relaxed the bylaws for the traders from Garth. Though there’s rumours that Heritor Fullerton is ill and so is his son. It’s affecting some decisions at the Garth Guild as he’s their Chief Merchant. Whatever the illness is, it may well kill them. Doctors are flummoxed, which doesn’t always take much to be fair. I expect it’s some sort of ague. Hopefully, the son will pull through, but I think it’s the end of the Heritors of Bayan by that name.”
Adeone said, “I curse the fact that so many were traitors in 1169. Father had little choice but – much as I’m of Landis’ ilk in some ways, that some traditions can be changed – changing the inheritance of titles is one thing I shy away from. Within them is so much of a province’s identity.”
“Aye, but on the other hand, some die out naturally anyway. Look at Areal. There’s not a thane left and hasn’t been for a long time. They married up or died off. There weren’t masses of heritors left. The loyal families still have their land, if not their title. Maybe it will rankle less as that’s the case – well, after fifty or so more years.”
Adeone chuckled. “True. So what other news is there? You’ve normally given me lots of issues by now. I’m almost feeling cheated.”
Merchant Chapa considered. “We can’t have that, sir. The only issue is that there are rumours of bandits again in the woods of the Gardian Ridge.”
“Yes, the General told me that. He’s increasing the men at the forts before attempting to find them. Lord Scanlon might then have the pleasure of trying them during the Bayan Law Review. He seems to prefer doing the reviews to being in Oedran dispensing justice here. Ira always said he had wandering feet, but I’m not too certain. I think he likes knowing he’s the most powerful man in a city. I’m not upset he’s elsewhere.”
“Nor, I think, is most of Oedran. How are the Princes, Your Majesty?”
Adeone beamed. “Oh, they’re turning the Comptroller grey. At least, Tain is. Arkyn is working hard from what I can gather. I wish Ira could see it. She’d have been proud of him.”
“Just because Her Grace isn’t here watching doesn’t mean she isn’t observing her family from the heavens, Sire. She’ll be watching her sons and protecting them. I have no doubt about that.”
“I wish she was here in the flesh though. I still expect her to greet me when I stop working for the day. It’s completely daft, I know, but I can’t help it. Still expect her to tell me what madcap scheme Tain has come up with this time and listen to the reasoning of why it’s my fault.”
“Your fault, sir?” Merchant Chapa didn’t know what else to say.
“Most things I’ve found are my fault sooner or later and Tain is said to take after me. I might let him loose on the Guild Banquet one of these days.”
“He’d always be welcome, Sire.”
By the time his cousin left, Adeone had reconciled his mind to a week at Ceardlann. He could manage it so his Representative didn’t have much to do. The only problem would come when Scanlon realised that he’d been deliberately passed over.
Chapter 35
COURT SURPRISES
Cisadai, Week 34 – 9th Bayal, 2nd Bayis 1209
Palace – Court
THE KING’S COURT OF OEDRAN could refer either to its members or the area of the Palace of Oedran where they gathered. Sumptuous rooms, glittering and glorious, epitomised Oedranian Society. The beautiful FitzAlcis Chamber at its centre with its domed stained-glass ceiling – of the twelve-pointed star of the empire – sending shards of coloured light dancing into the room below. It was here that people waited to be presented to the King. The Court applicants could admire the beautifully carved fireplaces where symbols taken from the empire and nature wound their way from hearth to mantle: Anaparian horses galloped to unknown destinations with quivers of arrows at their saddles. Bayan birds flew over a Denshirian desert with the twelve-pointed mystic rose used to represent a blazing sun. Flowers of Lufian bloomed amongst falling snowflakes and vipers of Serpent Isle snaked towards Macian ships with triskele-marked sails. An Arealian key opened a chest of Gerymorian gems with scales to weigh them. The Low Plainers, with their eye-marked tabards, sold their weapons next to the hourglasses of Tradere, and a Terasian bear galumphed its way through a forest watched by a snow fox of the Pale Lands with a vial hung around its neck.
Surrounding the fireplaces were murals for each province depicting fictional scenes that captured the essence of the lands. Doors led to large rooms named for those provinces, whilst other smaller private rooms snuggled at the edges. Guards in pristine tabards stood with halberds next to some doors and servers, ushers and pages stood around the sides of the rooms waiting to be called for. Elsewhere, court valets and maids would be on hand should anyone need them. At great feasts, lords could bring their own servers but at other times the men and women of the Court household would serve them.
On each side of the Court were great halls. The Queen’s Hall on the east side was used for dancing, whilst, on the west side, it was said that hundreds could be seated at the laden tables in the King’s Hall, which had survived hundreds of years of changing fortunes. The Palace had developed around its time-tested walls. A dais dominated the head of a flight of steps, with the great doors behind, barred and closed on the world – they were used only by the FitzAlcis for coronation feasts, marriages and great gatherings. At each end of the dais were smaller doors, one leading into the Court, the other into the Privy Wing. The side walls in the main hall held two sets of doors each. Facing into the hall from the dais, those on the right led to the Court, those on the left to a corridor that ran the length of the hall, off which were other corridors containing the rooms of the King’s household.
Opposite the dais were doors leading out into the Court Gardens, above them on the right was a musicians’ gallery, on the left with its carved screen was the Viewing Gallery whose entrance had been purposefully lost after the assassination of King Alvern and the Age of Tyranny. A great fireplace opposite the dais heated the hall. It was so large it could roast whole stags, though normally a more modest blaze was known.
Rails ran along all the walls, from which tapestries could be hung at feasts. Great candlestands held dozens of tapers with specific candle wardens to watch over them. Tables against the walls held jugs of wine and water, juices and ales. The great oak tables would groan under pies and pastries, roasts and stews, fruits and confections. It was said that the only difference between the Court Supper and the great feasts was the amount of food, but the feasts held to mark special occasions would include dishes and drinks from around the empire and sugar sculptures that took days to prepare.
The opulence of the Court wasn’t a mask. Wherever one looked there was gold and silver, fine glasses and abundance. Wine was free-flowing; the Court Supper served every evening was plentiful and rich. The King’s hospitality was known to be unstinting and generous. It created an atmosphere of ease. Courtiers dressed in the finest silks, velvets and satins. They showed off fine goldsmithing, leatherwork and gems. Ladies wore the worth of whole cities without a second thought. All trying to vie for attention, to catch the attention of those who could further their standing, whether that was a lord or the FitzAlcis.
The Court had a mythology all of its own and many faces: the superficial where loyalty and adherence to the King’s wishes were all that mattered, to the shadier where patrons and protégés bargained and favours became debts, to the dangerous where the wrong word at the wrong moment could start a plot that would destabilise the entire empire. If you wanted to know what was happening in Oedranian Society, you needed entry to Court and you only got entry to Court by introduction, being of the lordships or certain professions. Unless FitzAlcis, every member of the Court had to be presented to the King at Court, no matter if they knew each other beyond its bounds, and so the first evening when Adeone and Wynfeld were both there, the General presented Wynfeld very simply.
“Sire, Captain Wynfeld of Your Majesty’s army.”
“Thank you, General. You may get up, Wynfeld. Walk with me.”
Wynfeld pushed himself to his feet and fell into step, confused by the request. Surely his King had more important people to talk to.
Adeone looked sideways at him. “Do you need any introductions?”
“No, sir. Thank you. Advisor Rayburn is very diligent.”
“Good,” replied Adeone. “I hope— Excuse me.”
Wynfeld stepped back as Adeone strode over to a man just entering; dusty from the road, he hadn’t even bothered to take his cloak off. He spotted Adeone striding towards him, grinned and bowed with an ease Wynfeld had only noticed from a few.
Smiling from ear to ear, Adeone said, “Faran! I didn’t expect you!”
“Landis seemed to think the time was right for me to visit, Your Majesty. I hope you don’t mind the surprise.”
“Mind? Not at all. You’re always welcome but at least make it look like you’re staying. You’ll sit next to me at the Court Supper, I hope.”
Faran chuckled. “An honour, Sire. If you’ll excuse me for a short time?”
“Certainly.” Adeone turned slightly. “Simkins, see His Lordship has all he needs.”
A voice beside Wynfeld said, “Lord Faran of Lufian, Captain. A confidant of His Majesty. Once a ward of the FitzAlcis. He lived in Oedran when studying at the Advisors’ School.”
Wynfeld thought to himself that he knew that already, though it had been years since he’d seen Lord Faran in person. “Thank you, Advisor Rayburn. The King seems pleased to see him.”
“The King isn’t the only one. Excuse me.”
Wynfeld watched Adeone working the different rooms with interest. His King was always polite, but he managed to convey by subtle changes in body language whether someone was favoured. Wynfeld watched a master of manipulation at work. He watched as Landis greeted his friend with more formality than he’d ever seen him use before. Then the illusion broke as Adeone asked him whom the show was for. Laughing, Landis said he’d thought he’d act the courtier. Adeone asked him why he was breaking the habit of a lifetime. Wynfeld shook his head slightly. Others were watching the two friends with interest and someone by Wynfeld’s shoulder said,
“Makes you wonder if they ever seriously disagree.”
Wynfeld turned round. “Surely all friends must at some point, Advisor.”
The advisor moved away. Wynfeld continued to watch Lord Landis unobtrusively. Turning slightly to answer a passing comment, Landis caught Wynfeld’s eye. He raised a discreet eyebrow and Wynfeld turned away.
Wynfeld watched Lord Landis from the corner of his eye, trying to fathom him out at Court. He was surprised when the Lord of Oedran crossed to him next, having excused himself from a conversation with Lord Fairson.
“Captain Wynfeld. How are you finding the humdrum world of Court?”
“It’s certainly different from anything else I’ve experienced, my lord.”
Landis laughed. “Hardly surprising. You’ve been busy since your return.” Realising they were momentarily alone, he added, “So busy that there are whispers about you. Be careful.”
“You too, Lord Landis,” replied Wynfeld.
“There’s been whispers about me since I was fifteen and I became friends with a twelve-year-old prince.”
Wynfeld smiled. “Believe it or not, my lord, I do remember you when you were young.”
“Really?” asked Landis, thinking, ‘Damn! I should have made that connection before.’
“Yes, sir. I was, after all, a groom of Lord Macaria’s. Too humble to be noticed by you, but I do remember that you and Lady Ira were close.”
Before Landis could reply, Adeone and Lord Faran disturbed them.
“Are you monopolising Wynfeld, Landis?”
“Certainly not, Sire. I’ve just discovered that he has the dubious pleasure of remembering me when I was a youngster.”
Adeone chuckled. “That probably means you remember me as well.”
“I do, sir. An impeccable prince,” admitted Wynfeld.
“Your memory is playing tricks on you, Captain. I was only ever a nuisance as a prince.”
“I’m sure that’s not true, Your Majesty.”
Faran laughed. “It seems, Sire, that the world is in disagreement on that point.”
“We are at Court, Faran: apparently, you can only flatter me here. Have you met Captain Wynfeld? He took over from Fitz earlier this year.”
“If I can ever be of assistance, do let me know, Captain,” said Faran.
“Thank you, my lord,” replied Wynfeld determined to accept the offer.
“Captain Wynfeld, I must borrow Lord Landis’ company,” concluded Adeone, drawing the lords away with him.
The same advisor as before remarked, “The King seems to favour you.”
