Dearest
Prince,
I was
wondering if you'd get around to asking about this, you know. Not that I would
blame you if you never did - what with your parents involving you so little in
matters of warfare, it would be understandable if you in turn had no interest
in the subject, or even felt offended by its being raised. In any case, I had
kept these notes handy in my capacity as Royal Clerk - yes, I know, yet another
job - so that I'd have the facts straight in the event you did come to me. I
don't relish the thought of sending them off like this but for you, our Prince,
anything. Please tell Princess Myal that if she needs something sent from home,
she too has only to ask.
Your
most loyal of servants,
Holyon
---
Six
months previously
The
chatter was building up rapidly just outside Merhen's suite. She glanced over
the shoulder of her husband, Hakyn, and checked the small golden disc of the
clock, set in a dark wooden frame that swooped up to hug the clock face
tightly, then back down on the other side. She watched the second-hand tick,
admiring the teardrop shape in the ironwork at its tip.
"Are you listening, Merhen?" Hakyn snapped, leaning over to block her
view. For a brief moment Merhen switched her gaze to focusing on a loose thread
around the shoulder of his dark red tunic, but she dragged her eyes up to meet
his.
"Sorry, Hak," she muttered. "Finding it a bit hard to
focus."
"How come?" Hakyn asked. "I mean, I know it's a big day, but you
usually thrive under pressure."
Merhen nodded. It was true, pressure normally gave her adrenaline, of a sort
that didn't manifest as nervous energy. She could travel around their kingdom
and discuss all sorts of matters with the various dukes and duchesses. She
could even raise two very different royal children and teach them the values of
duty, and the importance of co-operating with each other. But there was
one person in the world that could drive her to such distraction that she spent
hours at a time observing the features of a clock she'd owned for well over a
decade.
"It's him, isn't it?" Hakyn said. "Duliop."
Merhen smiled at the way the name came out very blunt. It was just because he'd
added it onto the end of his question after he'd already stopped talking, but
it sort of sounded like he'd spat the name, which was certainly what she felt
like doing.
"He just does something to me," Merhen explained.
"I'm like a little girl again."
"But you two seem to get along so well," Hakyn said. "Much
better than me andmy brother, to be honest."
"Oh, I know it seems that way," Merhen said. "That's part of
what's so frustrating."
Hakyn hooked his thumbs around the straps that attached the front of his tunic
to the back. He was a big man, all biceps and sharp elbows that stuck right
out. It felt good to have him in her corner. Although she probably didn't want Duliop
to see how much comfort he brought her - knowing him he'd find a way to ruin
it.
There was a knock on the door, and the chattering stopped.
"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Hakyn asked, turning around to
follow her as she made for the door.
"Nope," she said, then pulled the door open.
Luckily Duliop was a few rows back from the front, so she was able to engage
someone closer to her in conversation as she led the crowd around to their
seats. The room had on one side a semi-circle of tall padded chairs, each
accompanied by a high side table and a jug of water. On the other side was rows
of raised seating, slightly cramped chairs but they'd been built into the wood
and everybody seemed to think that was marvellous. This was most likely because
it was never anybody's turn to put the chairs away after an important meeting.
Actually maybe it had just been Holyon gushing about them - more of than not it
was he who got stuck with this job.
In the middle of the room, facing the semi-circle, was a desk. This was where
she had been sitting before she let the crowd in, and it was where she returned
to now, with Hakyn taking his place in the chair next to her. The semi-circle
of council chairs were filled by various dukes from the different regions from
the kingdom - though Resador had sent a stand-in. This was normal, since it
took so long to travel up, it was generally considered best not to take
Resador's main ruler away unless it was for emergencies. And this, hopefully,
would not qualify as an emergency. It was a simple border skirmish, nothing
more. She intended to tell Duliop this as soon as she got the chance, authorise
a force to deal with it, then have it be over.
Once everybody seemed settled - including
Duliop in his chair in the middle of the semi-circle, facing straight at her -
Merhen called out to check that minutes were being taken.
"On it, your Majesty!" Holyon called. Merhen looked around and saw
his lanky frame squeezed into a chair right down the front, with a wooden board
and some paper balanced on his lap. She realised that she really ought to get
him a desk as well.
"Well," she said, turning back to the council, "I call this
meeting to order."
---
"Okay,
so," Erson said, running his finger along the first line of text. "It
says that my mum called the meeting to order, and asked that the specifics of
the unrest be detailed."
"Wasn't it just like somebody fighting over a stray sheep at first?"
Buck asked.
Erson didn't look up, but muttered, "I heard goat. Anyway, here it says
that there were three confirmed raids over a period of a week. Not even on an
army, just on the shepherds who happened to be near the border at the time. This
whole conflict does seem awfully sudden actually. Holyon's even written in that
there were 'murmurs of disquiet' as that was reported."
Those were the most words Erson had said to Buck in several weeks and Buck
didn't even mind that he'd not looked at him once while doing it.
"So after that, mum asks if any council member in particular has a preference
for how big a force is sent to deal with this," Erson said. He frowned,
and went quiet for a moment.
"Uh, Erson?" Pires said, nudging her foot with his beneath her desk.
She was sat on one side, with Buck, Erson and Alkset on the other.
"Sorry, yes," he said. "The next person who spoke was my uncle
Duliop. He's kind of an ass. My mum hates him. I mean, she thinks I don't know
that, but she hates him."
"Do you know why?" Alkset asked, tilting her head to the side. Erson
didn't look up at her either. That was almost certainly because he was
embarrassed to be airing his family drama in front of a foreign diplomat, but
Buck felt comforted that he was not alone anyway.
Erson shrugged and scanned the next few lines of text. "He's nice to me,
but he is kind of smug sometimes. Anyways, mum says that we should send a
regular sized patrol, to see if the danger remains or if it has been dealt with
by the Fehranden authorities - that's the region just across the border,
Alkset."
"I see," Alkset said. She frowned. "How did you end up at a
whole army marching up then?"
Erson murmured under his breath as he read the next few lines. He looked up,
finally, at Buck. "You met Holyon, right?"
Buck nodded vigorously. "Yeah! He was a great help in setting up the
court." He quickly turned to Alkset and explained, "I took a trip to
Resador recently. Pires was a bit tied up and couldn't go."
Alkset looked at him with slight confusion, shaking her head. "I, uh -
okay, sure. Sounds like a lovely time?"
Buck internally winced and realised that maybe not every little thing was going
to unravel his image.
"Anyways," Erson said, catching Buck's gaze. "He's being very...
Holyon about it. It's like he's commentating on a joust. Here, take this."
Erson handed the parchment to Buck, who quickly scanned the page to figure out
where he'd stopped. Most of it was a line at a time, lots of abbreviations and
use of people's initials. The next few lines were huge paragraphs, written in
screes of chaotic handwriting.
He read aloud, using hand gestures to add drama, and lowering his volume to add
suspense, "The crowd hushes as Merhen looks at her brother. Her brother,
well he coughs, sort of clears his throat. Oh, come on, we all know that as a
laugh. Duliop just laughed at Merhen's frankly quite reasonable suggestion. And
I suppose, folks, it is time once again, to watch these two battle it
out."
When Buck looked up, Erson had pressed a fingertip into each of his tightly
closed eyes. "I wasn't necessarily suggesting you re-enact it, but I
should have known what I was getting myself in for. Anyway, what in the world
does that mean? My uncle laughed at my mum and suddenly we're at war?"
Erson didn't make any move to take the parchment back, so Buck just kept
reading.
At this point, I just want more of this meeting and figure out what exactly this whole skirmish thing is about, then piece it together with what I know about Erson and Mehren's visit at the beginning of the novel. SUPER stoked about getting some more answers though!!
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