by Samuel Fort
Chapter 26: The Nuisance, Porazo
“I really must protest, Annasa,” said Porazo, sitting across from Lilian in the small office she maintained on the ground floor.
“Protest what?”
“Depriving the nobles of food, and perhaps worse, wine!”
“I am depriving them of neither.”
The man let out a polite grunt and tilted his head to one side, as if confused. Still turned, he said, “A bottle of wine per month is drastic, especially given the ample stores you have in reserve. Similarly, reducing the meals to two a day…” He gave her a sideways glance, “That might be bearable if you had not also reduced the number of items served. I am assured by even your physicians that the meals do not provide the variety of nutrients necessary to maintain optimal fitness.”
Lilian scoffed, “Optimal fitness, Archduke? Your standards are too high. The intent of our reserves is to keep us alive, not to make us Olympians. As to the wine – what should we do? We cannot produce it ourselves. What you call an ample reserve will barely last us a year and the best we could hope to achieve on our own by the end of that period is sour grape juice.”
The ugly man shook his head and held up a hand. “I have seen your graphs and spreadsheets, Annasa. Personally, I am surprised to find you involved in such pedestrian affairs. Nevertheless, I humbly suggest the issue is that the stores are being mis-allocated. The citizens are being granted too much, at the noble’s expense. Then there is the matter of the Ardoon. You are casting pearls to swine, if I may be so bold.”
Bold indeed, thought Lilian. I should have the man killed this moment. How dare this newcomer address me in this way! Fiela would delight in cutting out this man’s tongue.
She could not kill the man just yet, however. He had ingratiated himself with many of the nobles who were of a like mind. They viewed the cretin as a hero for his valiant if failed attempt to lead Nisirtu survivors across the country to Steepleguard. Lilian did not share their awe. The newcomer was no hero. He was a sole survivor, and in her experience, sole survivors were always suspect. Lilian envisioned the man sitting alone at a campfire feasting on the flesh of the dead Peth who had given their lives to protect him.
How was it that her nobles believed even a tenth of the man’s tall tales?
They did though. Most of them, anyway.
Her spies informed her what was being said among the nobles. The queen has lost her way. Look at how well she treats the slaves! In this situation they should be on starvation rations. What did any one of them do to deserve such fine treatment? Bring flowers to her so-called reception? Make her bed? Clean her toilet? The Nisirtu are the masters of this world, even now. The slaves at Steepleguard can be easily replaced by the cadaverous survivors in the cities and towns below, and the replacements would be overjoyed to be granted scraps from a Nisirtu table. Yet she is giving the greedy cadre rations equal to what we receive! Has she gone mad?
Even her Ardoon husband would understand their plight, they whispered. He was an intelligent man who would understand the importance of the noble class. The queen, on the other hand, was trying to mimic him in his absence, doing what she thought he would want, to honor him, when in fact the king would do things very differently. What did she care, anyway? She was having banquets in her private quarters each night.
If only someone else were in charge, they murmured.
No, Lillian lamented, the most efficient way of pacifying the nobles was to pacify the toad in front of her.
“Archduke Porazo, have you ever ruled a kingdom?”
“I have never had that honor, no.”
“If you had, you would understand that I must be conscious of the need of all classes, not only the noble class. Yet only the nobles get wine. Only the nobles get chocolate.”
“That is because they merit it, Annasa. Do not call a right a gift and expect others to be grateful for it. Not when even those items are being reduced.”
Lilian sighed. Reason was obviously not the way to this man’s heart. She thought for a moment before saying, “I know your opinion carries great weight, Archduke.”
The man made a show of being embarrassed. “The nobles are too kind in their opinion of me, but being cast in this role, I feel obligated to represent them.”
Lilian smiled. Oh, to have you tied to my whipping post!
“You have a suggestion as to what should be done?” she asked.
Nodding, the man said, “Perhaps a token gesture? A temporary – and I stress, temporary – suspension of the rationing plan recently imposed. Perhaps there has been an error in the calculations of the scribes who produced it, in which case it might be advisable to loosen the restrictions until new calculations can be provided.”
Scribes? Lilian didn’t have a one. Ben and Persipia had done the calculations.
The queen made a show of considering the request. “I take your point. I can in good conscience do so for two weeks, but no more.”
“Two weeks is very generous, Annasa. For now, can we not just say the rationing is suspended? Then in two weeks, you may reintroduce it.”
Lilian frowned. “And have this fight again?”
“No, no, that will not happen, Annasa. I will make it a point these next two weeks to convince the right people that rationing is inevitable – that I have reconsidered your charts and have grudgingly come to be of the same mind as you.”
Two weeks. Ben might be back by then. If he was, she could put this matter to rest without relying on Porazo.
“Fine,” she said. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes, just one more item. So that you will know that I am not duplicitous, and to better reach out to your constituents, I would like to request a seat on the council. As the senior Nisirtu present at Steepleguard, aside from the royal family, protocol demands it.”
“A seat on the council of nobles?”
“Yes. As you are head of the council, it will give you a vantage point from which to view my dealings with the other nobles. It is at the council that I will convince my supporters to accept the inevitability of rationing. We can work together there, as a team, to achieve what must be achieved.”
“That is no little thing,” said Lilian curtly.
“It is required by the Code, if we are to dispense with niceties,” answered the man, staring at her. “Or has our ancient law been tossed aside?”
At length, Lilian mumbled, “I shall be watching you, Archduke. Betray me at your peril.”
“I think we understand one another, then,” said the man smugly.
