“What is going on?” demanded Duke Tredor as he saw another carriage ahead of his blocking the alley.
The other carriage was jet black and appeared to have no windows. Without comment, his mercenary escort moved him towards the mysterious carriage and opened the door.
“Get in quickly,” whispered one of his mercenaries. “You must not be seen.”
Duke Tredor climbed into the carriage and turned to demand an explanation, but the door closed and the carriage began moving. He heard a bolt being thrown on the outside of the door as the carriage picked up speed. Duke Tredor slid across the plush seat and tried the other door. It too was locked. He sat back in the seat as perspiration began to form on his brow. It bothered him that he could not see out of the carriage. He wanted desperately to know where he was being taken. Suddenly it dawned on him that he could not hear the sounds of the city either. He moved close to the door and pressed ear against it. The only sound he could detect was the noise of the wheels rolling along the street and that was faint.
Duke Tredor began looking around the passenger compartment for any clues to his predicament. The carriage was new and boasted of great wealth. The seats were covered in the finest leather, and silk curtains flowed down the doors where the windows should have been. A long cabinet ran the width of the forward wall. Duke Tredor opened it. His eyes opened wide at the assortment of liquors. The most expensive brandies in the world sat on one side of the cabinet, and the finest vintages of wine occupied the other. Elegant crystal stemware was clasped in splendid velvet brackets in the middle of the cabinet.
Duke Tredor closed the cabinet and leaned back in his seat. He saw a long drawer at the base of the cabinet and leaned forward to open it. He frowned when the drawer would not open. As he ran his finger over the small brass keyhole in the center of the drawer, the carriage slowed to a halt. The bolt was thrown and the door was opened. A mercenary stuck his hand through the door opening to assist the councilor out of the carriage. Duke Tredor spurned the offered hand and climbed out himself. He had not spurned the assistance out of contempt, but because he did not want to betray his fear by exposing his shaking hand.
A feeling of relief ran through Duke Tredor as he recognized the mansion of Stafa Rakech before him. The relief faded almost instantly as he was surrounded by mercenaries. Without a word, the mercenaries herded Duke Tredor into the mansion and to the barren sitting room. Duke Tredor heard the door to the room close as he walked across the bare floor to sit in one of the small wooden chairs before the silkscreen window.
“Good morning, Duke Tredor,” came the voice from beyond the window.
“Is it?” Duke Tredor replied as he tried to stifle his fear and summon a feeling of indignation. “You could have extended an invitation to me rather than kidnap me.”
“Were you harmed by the method of transportation I provided?” inquired the voice.
“Harmed?” questioned the councilor. “No, I was not harmed, but I am offended at my shoddy treatment.”
“If you were not harmed,” mused Stafa Rakech, “you should consider yourself quite fortunate. Let us dispense with the trivialities of your trip and your feelings about my methods. Your actions are causing me a great deal of concern.”
“My actions?” echoed the councilor nervously. “What have I done to cause you concern?”
“You are part of the Council,” declared Stafa Rakech. “This Contest of Power is affecting my profits. Now, I understand that there is to be a new alignment of councilors. Is this correct?”
“The Council is always undergoing changes,” answered Duke Tredor as he wondered how much Stafa Rakech knew. “This is not something new.”
“When former enemies become partners,” scowled Stafa Rakech, “it creates problems for me. Where do you fit in with this new alignment?”
“I have little choice in the matter,” frowned Duke Tredor as he wondered how Stafa Rakech kept informed of the most secret deliberations of the Council. “I do not have the backing to stand against either one of them. Now that they have joined forces, all I can do is bide my time and wait for the chance of an opening.”
“So you are worthless then?” accused Stafa Rakech. “You are telling me that your worth is merely filling an empty seat?”
“My vote is worth as much as the next councilor’s,” frowned Duke Tredor.
“Ah so true,” agreed Stafa Rakech. “But that is what I just said. Your vote is worthless.”
“What do you mean?” inquired the councilor.
“The Council plays its ridiculous game,” explained the voice, “while Tagaret’s enemies converge on it. Unless the Council makes changes immediately to address the problems facing this city, I will have to move my operations elsewhere for safety. That is not something that I wish to do.”
“So you think these dire predictions posed by Queen Marta are accurate?” questioned Duke Tredor.
“Accurate?” echoed Stafa Rakech. “The queen only touched upon the forces that are converging on us. Unless something is done soon, Tagaret will cease to exist within the year.”
“If you think the Council is going to bow to Queen Marta,” scowled Duke Tredor, “you are wagering on the wrong horse. With Duke Graves and Duke Everich joining forces, the queen will be beheaded within a few days.”
“And you will be voting for this?” asked Stafa Rakech.
“I am always on the winning side,” smirked Duke Tredor. “Losers tend to die early in this city.”
“Well that troubles me greatly,” sighed Stafa Rakech. “That means I should start making my plans to move elsewhere.”
“If you think that is what you must do to survive,” shrugged Duke Tredor. “Frankly, I think the information the queen has is suspect. She does not possess the skill to rule the city in any event.”
“If there is one thing you should know,” warned Stafa Rakech, “it is that information is my business. When I say this city will be destroyed, you had best believe that it will be.”
“If you say so,” retorted Duke Tredor as he began to feel more secure in his position.
“I can see that there is no chance of making you see reason,” decided Stafa Rakech. “Very well, I shall make plans to liquidate my investments here in Tagaret. I trust you are ready for this?”
“Ready?” frowned Duke Tredor. “Ready for what?”
“To repay your debt to me,” stated Stafa Rakech. “It is quite a large debt if my memory serves me correctly. And it always does, if I might add. I shall summon a man to collect my money before you leave this room.”
“You can’t be serious,” gasped Duke Tredor. “I am not in a position to repay the debt right now. I need time to arrange that.”
“How much time?” asked Stafa Rakech.
“I am not sure,” Duke Tredor frowned as he tried to figure out where he could get the money.
“You cannot even sell your vote on the Council because you are blindly following the other fools,” chuckled Stafa Rakech. “Do you expect them to kindly have mercy for your plight?”
Duke Tredor bit his lip and stared at the floor. In the past he would have been able to bargain his vote to either Duke Graves or Duke Everich. Now that they had joined forces, that was not an option. Still, there must be a way to leverage his Council seat for some gold.
“I will need a few months to arrange for your money,” declared Duke Tredor.
“A few months?” shouted the normally soft-spoken Stafa Rakech. “Do you take me for a fool?”
Duke Tredor drew blood from his lip as he jumped in his chair. He turned around to see if the guards in the room had reacted to Stafa Rakech’s outrage.
“Let me explain your contract with me,” Stafa Rakech said softly, but firmly. “By the time of the Council meeting today, you will be without mercenaries. Your family will be thrown into the street, as your mansion will belong to me.”
“You can’t do that,” gasped Duke Tredor. “Where will we go? Who will protect us?”
“Protect you?” Stafa Rakech responded sternly. “Why should a councilor and his family need protection from the angry mobs of citizens that your careless rule is causing to starve to death? Do you really think those citizens, which you have voted to rob, would tear your apart with their bare hands?”
“Please don’t do this,” pleaded Duke Tredor. “I will find a way to repay you. I promise. You will get your money.”
“Your word is worthless to me,” Stafa Rakech shook his head.
“There must be something you want,” begged Duke Tredor as he pictured the angry mob gathering outside his estate. “I will do anything you want. Spare me, and you will find a willing servant. Please.”
“I do not care for business deals that end messily like this one,” sighed Stafa Rakech. “Perhaps there might be something we can agree on.”
“Anything,” offered Duke Tredor. “Anything at all.”
“My need to call in this loan is precipitated by the foolish moves of the Council,” mused Stafa Rakech. “Who on the Council would vote to begin building defenses? Is there anyone who would back the queen?”
“The Sordoans are the only two who believe in the queen,” frowned Duke Tredor. “There is no way that they will prevail.”
“The Sordoans,” Stafa Rakech repeated thoughtfully. “Very well, here is my deal. Your estate belongs to me now. Your mercenaries will follow my orders.”
“But that is no deal,” objected Duke Tredor nervously. “It still throws me to the mob.”
“Not exactly,” smiled Stafa Rakech. “You and your family will be allowed to remain on the estate. My mercenaries will continue to provide protection for you and your family.”
“Oh, thank you,” sighed Duke Tredor. “I will find a way to repay you quickly. I promise you will be satisfied.”
“The cost for your protection and use of the estate,” continued Stafa Rakech, “is to represent my wishes in the Council. Is that agreeable?”
“I will vote as you wish,” Duke Tredor nodded vigorously. “Just tell me how you want me to vote.”
“I can not be bothered with such trivial things,” scowled Stafa Rakech. “You will vote as the Sordoans do. In fact, just in case they don’t vote the same, you will always vote the same way as Lord Clava. No matter what the subject of the vote, you will vote identically. Is that understood?”
“Duke Everich and Duke Graves are not going to like this,” fretted Duke Tredor.
“You do not seem to understand your position very well,” sighed the voice beyond the silkscreen window. “This is not a request. The first time that you break this agreement, your estate is forfeit. Your family is forfeit. Your life is forfeit. Make no mistakes about this. My offer to you is generous considering the plight that you find yourself in. Cross me, and you shall find my revenge swift and painful. Do we have an agreement?”
“I will not fail you,” promised the councilor. “If I do as you request, will I get my estate back?”
“You will live free and protected as long as I remain in Tagaret and you follow my orders,” declared Stafa Rakech. “If you can raise the funds to repay your debt, I will allow you to do so. However, if you even think of raising the money by betraying me, you will die instead. Do not even joke about betraying me, because if you even voice those thoughts, you will die.”
“I will not betray you,” vowed Duke Tredor.
“Very well,” sighed Stafa Rakech. “You will also not reveal this arrangement to anyone. You will be returned to your own carriage. If you suggest that you met me today, I will deny it. Leave.”
The light behind the silkscreen window blinked out. Duke Tredor rose unsteadily and glanced back at the guards. They stood there stonily staring at him. He walked across the floor and left the room. Stafa Rakech peered through the silkscreen window and watched the councilor leave.
“He is scared enough,” frowned Konic Clava as he stood behind Oscar watching Duke Tredor leave. “Still we are risking a great deal on whether he actually votes as he should. Is there any reason to trust that he will follow through?”
“I do not know,” replied Oscar as he opened the door to the plush sitting room. “His word means absolutely nothing, but his fear is genuine. If he does vote as I told him to, we have five Council votes.”
“But only four if he thinks that Duke Everich will protect him,” frowned Konic. “This could go wrong for us.”
“Then one of the other councilors will have to miss the meeting,” shrugged Oscar. “The vote will be either five to three, or four to four. In either case, Duke Everich will not get his way.”
“How can you stop a councilor from attending the meeting?” questioned Konic.
“I think the mercenaries protecting Duke Graves have just received a very serious death threat,” grinned Oscar. “To properly protect the duke, they will keep him inside his mansion all day today. A pity that he will not be able to attend this crucial vote.”
“You had this all planned,” Konic said in surprise. “You are the most devious man that I have ever met.”
“Thank you,” grinned Oscar Dalek.
* * *
“Is the carriage ready?” Duke Graves asked his mercenary captain.
“The carriage is ready,” reported the mercenary, “but you will not be using it.”
“What?” scowled Duke Graves. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“We have received a serious threat on your live this morning,” declared the mercenary. “It is not safe for you to venture out today.”
“I am only going to the Royal Palace,” frowned Duke Graves. “Surely your men will not have any problem getting me there.”
“We cannot take that risk, Sir,” the mercenary shook his head. “I have men out now trying to assess the risk and eliminate it if possible.”
“Eliminate it?” echoed Duke Graves. “I thought that you did not act in that manner?”
“This is an extreme threat, Sir,” sighed the mercenary. “The information that we have indicates a rather large attack force. We believe that they mean to kill you directly after the Council session today.”
“After the session?” frowned Duke Graves. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would they wait until after I had voted?”
“Perhaps they want you to vote as you intend,” shrugged the mercenary. “Afterwards, you would not be needed.”
“Everich,” scowled Duke Graves. “I never should have trusted him. I must get to the Council Chamber.”
“Out of the question, Sir,” the mercenary shook his head. “Even more so if you have thoughts that it might be Duke Everich. He has control of six thousand men and any one of them could be the assassin. Not to mention that every one of them would have access to the Royal Palace.”
“But what good is your protection if you cannot guarantee my safety,” scowled Duke Graves. “I am a councilor. That means that I attend Council meetings. Must I go without you?”
“That is not an option, Sir,” stated the mercenary. “Our job is to protect your life. We intend on doing our task successfully.”
“Then I shall fire the lot of you,” threatened Duke Graves.
“That is your option,” sighed the mercenary. “We don’t like to lose customers in that fashion, but it is preferable to losing them to an assassin. If you no longer desire our services, I shall inform the men to pack up immediately. We will be gone by nightfall.”
“Nightfall?” echoed Duke Graves. “Why would it take you so long?”
“We have already been paid for today, Sir,” smiled the mercenary. “That means that we will not allow you to die until nightfall. Either way, you are not attending that Council meeting. Should I inform the men?”
Duke Graves stared at the mercenary for a long time and finally shook his head in defeat.
“No,” Duke Graves sighed in defeat. “Carry on.”
Chapter 24
Mission of Mercy
Duke Everich stood at the head of the table in the Council Chamber. He s
tared at the empty seat where Duke Graves should be seated and frowned. He had delayed the meeting for a half hour waiting for his new partner to arrive, but the other councilors were now growing restless.
“Very well,” scowled Duke Everich. “It appears that Duke Graves will not be with us today. We shall have one quick vote and then I will reschedule another meeting for tomorrow.”
“One vote?” questioned Lord Clava. “It would seem prudent to address the many issues facing this council. The people of Tagaret depend upon this council to lead the nation. The absence of Duke Graves does not justify any postponement.”
“I will decide the agenda of the Council,” spat Duke Everich. “Need I remind the new councilors that I am head of this council?”
“I am aware of you status,” Konic shot back. “As head of the council, you do lead the meetings, but you are not privileged to control dissent and eliminate open discussion. In fact, I have a motion to present after we vote on the one you are presenting.”
“Your support is nonexistent,” snarled Duke Everich. “Why waste our time with your silly motions. Your last motions have caused more trouble than they are worth.” Duke Everich continued after a short pause, “The motion before us today is to eliminate the monarchy completely. After the spectacle of the figurative queen telling this council what we should discuss in our meetings, it has become obvious that her presence here is counterproductive. I make the motion that this Council eliminate all references in law to the monarchy and abolish it.”
“I second the motion,” Duke Jiardin said quickly.
“Very well,” smiled Duke Everich, “everyone in favor of the motion raise your hand.”
Count Melorn’s hand rose to join with Duke Everich’s and Duke Jiardin’s. Duke Everich waited for the rest of the hands to be raised. His eyes narrowed as he stared at Fredrik. Fredrik stared back at him. Duke Everich snarled audibly as he turned his gaze to Duke Zalski, who returned his gaze coldly. As his rage grew, Duke Everich focused on Duke Tredor, who was staring at the table in front of him. Everich could see perspiration forming on Tredor’s brow and lashed out at him.
Dwarven Ruby Page 30
