12
“King Damial is it?” Bathis spat contemptuously, “a bit premature isn’t that?”
“I’m Lord Jaksen,” the councilor said, toneless, “if you will please come inside, I’m sure Feradac will be interested to hear what you have to say.”
Inside the tent, Feradac and Havelin sat in disgusted silence at opposite sides of the map table, both pondering what argument to use next. Tayron could tell it was the confrontation of geniuses who had taken the day off to be childish because, for all their intellect, things had gone wrong. They were so deep in thought that neither one looked up when the half dozen bodies crowded into the tent.
“You two, snap to it,” Jaksen said, voice soaking with sarcasm, “we have a messenger from the one true king here.”
“So, what does that colossal ass Damial have to say?” Havelin asked shrewdly. “Did he actually show up to the battle at all, or just have his globular form projected in convenient places? I can imagine what a fearsome fighter he’d be, crushing dozens by sitting on them.”
The messenger pretended to look scandalized. “Ahem, yes, well, I’ve never had the pleasure of seeing combat myself, so I wouldn’t know. I am here to seal the battle in accordance with tradition. The lords under Damial wish you to know that, though some traditions are clearly obsolete, those which have no clear reason to be eliminated shall remain intact.”
“Be still my heart,” Feradac rumbled.
Jaksen said, “go ahead.”
“First of all, do you accept that your side lost this battle?”
“Yes.”
“And that tomorrow we will have a temporary truce to gather our dead from the field and bury them?”
“Yes.”
“This fight will go down in history as the Battle at Rippling Hills, after a town near our encampment. Do you have any objections?”
Jaksen was about to answer in the droning affirmative against when Feradac said, “the First Battle at Rippling Hills would be better.”
“If you win the next one, I’m sure we will be amenable to the change.”
“The Battle at Rippling Hills will be fine,” said Jaksen.
“Do you wish to surrender now to avoid further disgrace? Will you accept Damial as king?”
Everyone in the room except for Havelin and Bathis said “no” reflexively. Havelin was too busy not caring. Bathis had grabbed the messenger from behind, threatening him with a dagger to the throat.
“Bathis, no!” Jaksen shouted in horror.
“You give this message back to Damial and the rest. They surprised us once, they won’t again, and we’ll wipe the smugness out of them with a dagger.” He released the messenger who turned to face the crazed knight, wide-eyed.
“Is this how your people think, Lord Jaksen? Where’s the noble tradition here? Mindless barbarism! Men who would do better sealed in lunatic wards are standing so close to the centers of power! Who wins in the final frame may still be in doubt, but who should win for the good of the nation is easily resolved by this display here.”
“Why you little . . .” Bathis moved to strike, but Tayron and Yunas held him back by the arms. “You filth. Get out of here, traitor. If you set eyes on me once more in your life, it’ll be the last sight you see. I don’t know why you were really sent here, but you’ll leave without completing your mission.”
“Lord Jaksen, General Feradac, I hope you don’t mind if we cut tradition short here. There’s risking my life and then there’s handing it to my enemy on a silver platter – I’m used to doing both, but not to the satisfaction of a crazed insolent like this.”
“You’d better go,” Jaksen agreed, “and we’ll call tradition fulfilled.”
The messenger left with a flourish of his cloak, not dignifying Bathis with another glance. After he was a safe distance away, escorted by two guards while the other two remained guarding the tent flap, Tayron and Yunas released Bathis, who immediately began searching every corner of the tent, as if for a needle.
Jaksen was livid. “What is the meaning of this, Bathis? I have half a mind to do as that messenger suggested and drop you off at a lunatic ward. Explain yourself.”
“Like I said, he wasn’t just a messenger,” said Bathis, preoccupied with his search.
“All right, then what was he?”
Bathis triumphantly pulled something off of the underside of the map table and answered “my older brother.”
“Your brother?” Feradac, Tayron, and Anni said, alarmed. Jaksen nodded silently as if Bathis’ response had provided instant understanding. Havelin chuckled at his end, pulling out a stuffed pipe, lighting it with a spell, and then puffing on it as if he had had enough of the day.
“Is that some sort of listening device?” Yunas asked, pointing at the small metal circle Bathis was examining.
“Looks like an amulet of some sort.”
“Let me have a look at it,” Havelin said between puffs. On close inspection, he concluded “it definitely has a listening charm on it. At the other end someone has another one they can listen through. There’re four mages who specialize in this and at least a hundred who could do it, so I can’t tell you who exactly did this one, even if it wasn’t a rogue. Have it melted and it’s magic will be lost. I suggest you give it to a guard outside before our enemies hear anymore of our plans.”
Bathis did so in full victorious splendor, and when he turned back to the tent’s occupants, he said, “my brother didn’t expect that I’d be here to expose him.”
“Why didn’t you tell us instead of making us think you were insane? Why did you act like that toward him? Why did he act like he didn’t know you?” Anni interrogated.
Feradac sighed. “Oh no, here we go. A discussion on family politics, this should be fun.”
But Bathis was only too happy to explain, though only in vicious tones. “We have a code in our family to never betray a family member’s identity in his presence.”
“That’s an odd code.”
“It’s very convenient sometimes, like just now for my dear brother. As for why I acted like that to him, it’s because I hate him. He’s a spy. Some people in my family get a taste of using cunning, and instead of just sticking to having fun with insults, they go all the way. My brother gets kicks out of causing chaos, out of bringing down powerful people. Since he was a kid, he’d get information on city leaders and businessmen, upstanding men and women with maybe only one flaw, and sell the information to their competition. My family finally kicked him out when he betrayed my father. He’s not protected by Bat anymore, but that hasn’t stopped him – he’s not interested in insults anymore.”
“Wonderful. Too bad as long as he’s Damial’s official messenger we have to keep letting him in,” Feradac mumbled.
Jaksen’s eyes pierced through Bathis, who almost shrank back to avoid being read too deeply. “You’ll have to sweep the area for devices everytime he comes, Bathis.”
“Next time he comes, he might just kill you. He’s not above that.”
“Then, as my bodyguard, you can protect me and put an end to him. Otherwise, you’ll control yourself.”
“Whatever.”
Feradac’s weariness poured out of his voice. “Is that all? Havelin, you’re not getting addicted to pipe smoke, are you? We don’t have to get you help do we? Let’s all have issues to hopelessly complicate our lives and make us incapable of rational thought. I’m sorry, I get irritated on summer nights when I don’t get a bite to eat for dinner.”
“You’re irritated because you lost the battle,” Havelin piped in, drawing a dirty look from the general.
“Let’s get out of here,” Jaksen suggested as the mage and general spurred on a new debate. This time he led them to the mess tent to grab dinner plates. Expecting it all the way, Tayron was not surprised when, the moment his plate touched his hand, Anni finally said, irritated, “are you going to use almost getting killed as an excuse to get out of our deal?”
“Nope, I was just going to ask you where you wanted to go,” Tayron said relaxed. He found that, after a good battle for his life, a date with Anni was more comforting than anxiety-ridden.
“There was a hill with this one tree a short way from your tent. Hanging around here all day, I’ve memorized every inch of this place,” she said excitedly, grabbing his hand “come on, let’s go.” She was nearly dragging him off as he looked back and saw Bathis and Yunas staring with smiles broader than even the gods had ever seen. After they were safely away from recognizable eyes, Anni slowed to a more graceful pace and allowed Tayron to stride beside her. Clearing his mind of his usual thousand thoughts, he saw Anni’s form in the moonlight and grinned like an idiot, only able to believe his luck by reminding himself about the promised interview. As usual, her blouse and skirt caught every ray of light with a boldness that might have been what Tayron admired about her. Dazed in a thoroughly pleasurable sense, he sat down alongside her on the patch beneath the tree, wondering what to do with his plate of food.
Busy enjoying some much deserved free time, Tayron almost missed Anni’s first few words. “Were you scared out there, after that kid injured you?”
“Any second I wasn’t fighting, yeah,” he said reluctantly, “there’s no time to be scared when you’re crossing swords. But he isn’t kid. Yunas is a knight protected by the god of youth, so he looks younger than he is. He’s as old as I am.”
“Oh. Well, I guessed that only a knight could have hurt you, so I was wondering. Did you think about this little meeting we had planned?”
Hoping he’d get this right, he said “twice. Once right before I got into the battle, and the second time when I felt the most hopeless, when I really thought I was dead, I remembered what we had said last night. It really did give me strength and hope.”
Sheer perfection, but before he got cocky, she said “yeah, whatever. That sort of stuff will only go so far with me. Terrible day, though, huh?”
“Definitely,” he said, unsure of where she was going with it.
“What do you think of Damial’s use of rogue mages?”
Tayron didn’t have to think about it – every knight wondered what would happen if mages entered battle, and the academy instructors had uniformly explained the ramifications in no uncertain terms. “One mage can injure hundreds of soldiers, regardless of whether they’re enlisted or knights, while shielding himself. Really powerful mages could actually kill people, but there aren’t many rogues that could get that strong. It still means more injuries, since neither side’s about to fight with just mages. It also means strategy’s out the window, since no one knows how to deal with it.”
“Does the incompetence of our leaders surprise you? This mistake cost thousands of lives. What do you think could have been done to avoid such a tragedy?”
Tayron was about to hurl a bitter retort, but then realized that she had a point. “Quite a bit, really. Before the battle, everybody was talking about it like it was too easy, but no one looked into it. Anything more specific, and I don’t know. Not my department.”
“Given recent events, what do you think about the nobility’s mandate? Should the nobility continue to have the exclusive right to rule?”
Having no idea how to answer and only a few weeks’ background in politics, the knight answered honestly “no idea. You’ll have to ask Jaksen about that kind of stuff. What do you think?”
She actually took some time to come up with an answer. By the way she had been asking the questions, Tayron had expected her to have a long considered opinion on the matter. “I’ll tell you one thing – if the nobility doesn’t start opening things up and respecting other views, there’s going to be bigger trouble than a civil war. I don’t know whether Damial’s dual nobility idea will work, or whether any change would actually be better. I just know that people – commoners – are getting a bit antsy about who’s really in charge and why we’ve been at war with Rath’rainol for so long. This whole civil war is just more fuel on the fire.”
“I . . . I remember. There were farmers in the fields on the way. They didn’t look at us; they just continued with their work as if we were something vile.”
Nodding solemnly, Anni said “they would have called you henchmen of the nobility if they hadn’t thought their heads would be cut off for it. I’m not surprised you didn’t know about them – most people in the city don’t unless you’re in the right crowd. The court nobility, especially the big landholders, mostly do, but each deals with it in his or her own way. I knew Jaksen was sympathetic, so when he asked about my parents I told him. I was still surprised how well he took it.”
“But what about the gods? The nobles are in their place because the gods protect them – a protection they earned by helping the country. I’m sure everyone knows that.”
“You’re not getting it – that’s just the point. You must know that farmers have always believed in spirits that help or hurt their crops.”
“Sure, the spirits of the fields.”
“Right. Well, quite a few of them also have household spirits – spirits that protect their family like the gods protect the nobility.”
Anni allowed a few seconds for the words to sink in, and Tayron seemed to need them. Only when she was about to begin again, he asked “but how did the spirits come about? I guess it explains why they were so smug, why they turned away from us when we passed by, but with the gods, there’s a certain number of them, and the king decides who deserves protection. What have these farmers done to be protected?”
The reporter made a show of being hesitant about saying anything. “It’s complicated,” she said with a sigh, “they – and mind you my parents are included in this, so don’t be an idiot about it – they believe that the spirits are created by the collective willpower of everyone in the family. All the bad spirits are created by the will of all the people wishing ill things on them. The main reason these spirits aren’t as powerful as the gods is because only a few people believe in them. The gods have the willpower of everyone in the nobility, and most of the commoners, to back them up.” Seeing a confused expression on the knight’s face, she added, “I warned you it was complicated, but it makes a lot of sense when you think on it.’
“Is that what you believe?”
“I don’t know what I believe. No, that’s not true. I believe what I see. So far, what I’ve seen doesn’t tell me which side is right. Again, I’m not like my parents – I don’t hate the nobility, and I’m not sure that things would be better differently. I am sure that, if you nobles don’t do something more understanding than imprisoning people that don’t agree with you, things could get nasty. The battle today made things worse, too. I don’t know whether the rumors are true or not, but they say some of the retreating soldiers actually raped some women, and at least two fields were burned. This isn’t a surprise, mind you. This is exactly what the farmers expect from the dogs of the nobility. That’s why they were grim when you passed by their fields.”
“I . . . didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t. I knew you didn’t. That’s why I explained it to you. Now you know, though, and that makes you responsible.”
An unlit cloud passed over the only constellation of stars Tayron could recognize. “So, this war with Damial will make things worse.”
“In more ways than the obvious stuff. The people were led to believe that the king had a son, and that there was a clear heir. You’re not the type to get angry about being deceived, but let me tell you, when I found out what was going on, I was livid. Munghel was, too. There was a lot of angry shouting after I told my producer, and the producer told Munghel. The nobility hasn’t even apologized for its deception, or given any reason for it. It’s that kind of arrogance which really grates people, and not only the ones that are already set in their beliefs. I got a letter from my parents asking what exactly was going on. As far as they were concerned, both sides were traitors to the land.”
Tayron sat silently, as he was trained to do when digesting significant information. Food getting cold, he shoveled it into his mouth without tasting it. Taking the opportunity to say a bit more, Anni continued, “seems like you ought to be a reporter. You got more out of me than I got out of you. For what it’s worth, the way you’re thinking on this already puts you ahead of most of your peers. It’s nice to know that there’re people with open minds working at the palace. I hope Lord Jaksen is thinking, too. It’d make everybody feel a lot better if he took a stand. Even the most intense of the anti-nobility faction give him some respect. They’d listen to him.”
“He did seem to be thinking about it while we were on the road.”
Anni’s entire countenance lifted an inch and brightened five shades. “Any other noble, and I wouldn’t have been excited about talking to him. Lord Jaksen’s something else. At least he tries to think about the good of the nation.”
Tayron nodded, but he wondered if Anni had Jaksen measured right. The knight recalled Jaksen’s demeanor toward the farmers, and couldn’t help but feel that it was more pity than sympathy. Returning his gaze to the black speckled sky, he saw that the tiny moon, full tonight, was rapidly approaching its height. “We should get going, back to our tents.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Nice talking to you, though. It’s not often I get to discuss this stuff with anyone.”
“I can imagine,” he said, then as an after though “nice talking to you, too.”
“Good night, then.”
“Good night.”