by Rob Donovan
The Queen turned and looked at Stasiak’s. She walked over to him and gently touched his arms. He ceased struggling immediately and his eyes softened. It was like he had been poisoned and the Queen was the antidote. "Perhaps you should leave us for a moment," she said to Stasiak’s.
The guards looked uncertainly at the Prince.
"No, I am not letting him go free. I cannot let him. If you say he is my brother then so be it but he must stand trial, he must be punished."
"Hasn't he been punished enough?" the Queen said. "He has never known happiness, never experienced love. I have assured him all that will change, that his family would be different, his life would be different and yet here you are treating him how he has always been treated. Like a weapon, like an outcast."
"You made those empty promises mother. That was your mistake not mine. And he is a weapon, he is an outcast. He is a monster."
"And what about Vashna? What is he then? He sits in the war council enjoying your finest hospitality and yet your brother is being treated with contempt."
"He is not my brother. He can't be," Althalos said and put his head in his hands as he fell to his knees. How could such a joyous moment have unravelled so completely? Why did she have to spoil it? Surely, he was entitled to some good fortune? Surely his mother could be returned to him without the occasion being tarnished?
"He is your brother!"
"Mirinda?" Althalos looked up to see his father had stepped into the library. Shana stood by the door frowning. She had not expected to see the Prince on his knees and his mother in tears. Jacquard took a step closer to his wife and repeated her name. He seemed oblivious to everyone else in the room. He had failed to register the situation as he fixated on the Queen. Althalos could only watch with a broken heart as his father's lips trembled. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut as if that would clear his vision. "Mirinda?" he repeated for a third time.
"It's me Jacquard," the Queen said as she wiped her eyes. She lifted her chin, took a deep breath and then smiled.
"It can't be," Jacquard said as he smiled in return. "It can't..." The King paused as he was about to take another step. He looked at his wife and shook his head again. To Althalos' surprise his father slapped himself about the face. "No, no, no," he said and then slapped himself again, harder this time. His face was already bright red as he slapped himself once more. "Not again, no, no, NO."
"Father?" Althalos said slowly rising to his feet. He looked at his mother who shrugged her shoulders at her son. The smile fell from her face.
"No, not again," The King said and then before anyone could react he pulled the sword out of the nearest guard's scabbard and plunged it into his wife's stomach. Mirinda screamed and Jacquard fell away as the sword found solid purchase. A growing pool of blood spread across the green dress. The Queen cradled the sword and looked down in disbelief. Althalos rushed to her side, his head roaring with emotions. He heard Atikass roar like a dragon and break free of the guards. He rushed towards the King and barrelled into him, raining down punches. Althalos wanted to intervene but his legs would not obey. Instead he cradled his mother's head as she grew paler in his arms.
Chapter 9
Like a thousand angry bees trapped in a barrel. That was the best simile Vashna could think of to describe Tulber’s droning speech. He was the fourth and final warlord to give his opinion on whether or not the eastern alliance should accept Vashna’s humble apology and offer to join their forces and crush Cordane.
Grath had spoken first and for all of two minutes. The warlord of Easterly Rock’s view was very simple; let Vashna prove his loyalty. Vashna had never held a strong opinion on Grath either way. He had seen him fight and appreciated why they called him the ‘majestic warrior’ but other than that, the man’s strange dress sense did not bother Vashna like it did the other warlords.
Calloway had spoken for a lot longer and by the end of it, it was difficult to determine whether the warlord of Easterly Rock supported accepting Vashna or not. Unger on the other hand had been surprisingly open to the alliance with the Yurisdorians. Vashna had not expected this. The warlord made some pretty damning points against Vashna which he found difficult to disagree with, but ultimately, he talked of the grander design and chances of survival increasing with Vashna’s support. Vashna had always regarded Unger as a man who was full of hot air and far too obstinate to be taken seriously. On this occasion, he hoped Unger’s views would be listened to.
“Are we to forget the sight that greeted us at Crestfall? Do you recall all those poor bastards turned to stone? I certainly don’t! These were not only our allies but also men, women and children that Vashna tried to persuade to join his army. If he cared so little for them a few weeks after he wanted them to align with him can we really trust him…”
Vashna tried not to roll his eyes as Tulber went on and on. His diatribe was beyond tedious and there was nothing the longest serving warlord said which the others had not covered more eloquently and succinctly. With each passing minute Tulber’s face grew redder. He pulled on his goatee as he spoke and Vashna waited for him to rip it off entirely. Even the other warlords looked bored as Tulber rambled on.
The war council room had not altered since Vashna had last sat at the table. Even the cups used to serve the refreshments were the same. Each chair had the emblem of the warlord’s region on the back. The chairs of Lord Frindolin, Gambon and Kana were of course empty, as were Prandor’s and Hamsun’s. It was remarkable how a piece of furniture could evoke so many conflicting emotions. The sparrow hawk on the red background that was the insignia of Luciana filled Vashna with sadness. Hamsun was a colossal presence and to know he was not present because of Vashna’s actions was a weight on the warlord’s shoulders. He may have been oblivious to the spell that stilled Crestfall but there was no denying he was on the side of those that cast it. If only he knew what they were capable of before he had aligned himself with them.
“…he barely attended the War Council meetings when the King had them and then had the audacity to rebel when he did not agree with the way Frindoth was being governed! Tell me Vashna, why didn’t you try coming to this very room and speaking up if you didn’t agree?”
Vashna looked at Tulber unsure whether it was a rhetorical question or the warlord of Brimsgrove expected an answer. Vashna was not sure what he was supposed to say. He had not attended because the journey was too great and all that was at the other end was a lot of bickering men. He opened his mouth to say as much when Tulber continued.
“Now tell me why we should align ourselves with a warlord who kills his own people within his region. Can he explain the Eurystani? Of course not...”
Rhetorical it was then, Vashna thought. In fact, Tulber now spoke as if Vashna was not in the room. He looked over to the Prince. Althalos picked at one of his fingernails as he stared at the table. He had barely looked up since the warlords had begun their speeches. The man had been preoccupied since he entered the room. Something was definitely amiss. The Prince was late to the meeting and when he did turn up after making them wait half an hour, he was pale and seemed to be going through the motions as he mumbled an apology and then gave the briefest of introductions as to why they were here. He then stated that all the warlords should be heard and gestured for Grath to begin.
It was not how Vashna would have handled the meeting and for a moment Vashna had been a little disappointed in the Prince’s behaviour. The outcome of this meeting could shape the future of Frindoth and this is how the Prince wanted to play it? However, as the meeting progressed and Althalos showed no interest in what any of the warlords said, it was clear his mind was elsewhere. Vashna speculated what this meant for him and his men. Was the Prince merely bored as he already knew what he intended to do? If so his conduct was inappropriate and verged on rudeness. On the other hand, if something had happened which had seriously distracted him why was he proceeding with the council? In either scenario, the Prince had let himself down.
So that begged the question what could have happened? Did the reunion between the Queen and Althalos turn sour? He did not see how it possibly could. The Queen was desperate to see her son and from what Norva had said he was ecstatic at the news she was alive. What then? Atikass? It had to be Atikass. The man had shown signs of changing but Vashna recalled how the warrior had tensed whenever the Queen had mentioned her other son. Had they had an altercation? There were no signs of fight on the Prince. No growing welt or bruise and his knuckles did not look raw. What could have happened then?
“We get the idea Tulber,” Calloway suddenly said. Tulber’s mouth dropped open and shut like a fish; gobsmacked that one of his allies might undermine him.
"I am not sure that you do Calloway," Tulber said. He sneered as he pronounced the warlord's name.
"What is there not to get? You do not wish to ally yourself with Vashna because he is a deceitful, murderous bastard."
"Have you been listening to me? Have you truly understood what we are being asked to do? We are being asked to accept a man who only recently fought against us. A man who only recently required us to muster all our soldiers in our regions and fight alongside him. A man who chose rebellion. A rebellion that cost our people hundreds of their fathers and hundreds of our sons. You want to now side with Vashna? Is that what you are agreeing to? Have you been listening to how truly heinous this man really is?
I understand there is a bigger picture here. I also understand that without Vashna's army we will probably lose this war, but I also know if we reject him we will stand a chance. If we accept him he could betray us at any moment, he could be a spy scheming against us right now. He could be trying to infiltrate us and then report back to his true side. It is a bold move but who's to say that returning the Queen is not part of Cordane's grand plan. We have been one step behind, nay two steps behind Cordane all along. Why has the Queen suddenly been revealed to us? Why has the Queen so easily been returned to us? Why are none of you asking this question and why are you all accepting that she has come back in good faith? Are we supposed to believe that this man in front of us has suddenly had a change of heart? That he has suddenly realised that everything he thought and stood for is no longer valid. Are we to believe that he just opposed King Jacquard the man? Surely you are not that naive just because his son is now in power that we accept Vashna's beliefs have changed and Vashna is ready to support him? I am not one who is so easily hoodwinked. I refuse to be and even if the three of you support him even if the three of you welcome him and his army I am not sure I can stand for it. You may cut my speech short but I need to make my point. My soldiers will not fight alongside Lord Vashna.”
There was silence in the room; Vashna felt the weight of everyone's stare upon him. They wanted to know what he had to say. It had been the most damning speech that had been given so far and once again Vashna could not argue with the logic behind the words.
"Look at him," Tulber continued obviously on a roll now. "He has nothing to say for himself. He has had weeks to prepare a speech to convince us to accept him and even when given the opportunity he is stumped. He can't defend himself because there is no defence. I can't believe that all of you are willing to accept him just to add another battle victory to your legacy."
"How can you say that?" Unger said. "How can you say it's not worth it? Do you really think our egos are so big that we demand victory to add to our legacies? Do you really think that we are not doing what is best for our people? The idea is ludicrous. I want what is best for my people, if aligning myself with Vashna ensures their survival then I will do it. I will not let principles get in my way. We are at war, the sooner you realise that Tulber the better."
Vashna looked around the room. He saw only hard faces and stern eyes. He knew this morning's council would be difficult but he had underestimated how much the warlords would influence the decision. He had always considered the eastern Warlords to be soft and that they would rather argue in a room than fight on the battlefield, but his rebellion had changed them in some way. In the older ones, he had stirred the fire of previous fights; allowed them to remember past deeds. As for the younger ones, he had given them the chance to prove themselves to the other Warlords why they have been selected as Warlords.
"I did not support him," Callaway said. "I don't know what speech you were listening to but I was firmly against supporting this betrayer."
"Me neither," said Grath. "I asked that he prove himself."
"What did you mean by that?" Callaway said.
"Let him prove that he his worthy to fight for us. My soldiers will fight with his over my dead body." Tulber stared at Vashna and spoke in a soft but menacing voice. It seemed like a chill had suddenly descended on the room. "Let him best me and prove he is valiant enough to lead my men. If he really is the Warlord he says he is,” Tulber turned to Vashna, “If you really are the man, prove it. Fight me, fight all the warlords rather than risk the lives of all our men."
"I don't see how that would solve anything," Unger said.
"Simple, if he wins then I will not have to stomach standing by his side."
Vashna forced a smile and fought the impulse to lunge across the table and smash Tulber’s teeth in and wrench the tongue out of his mouth. This did not go unnoticed by the other Warlords who watched with interest.
“Can you see the tension boiling through his veins?” Tulber teased. “He's fighting his base instinct to destroy us. Did we say something wrong Vashna? Are you unable to cope with the truth? Is that why you never attended these war council meetings?”
Vashna refused to be goaded. He knew he could not afford to get angry. That is what Tulber wanted. To relax, he spread his fingers out on the table and took several deep breaths. He thought of his wife’s face and held it in his mind like a candle flickering in a hut as a storm raged outside. He felt his temples throb as his blood pressure rose. When he spoke, he was surprised how calm he sounded.
“I am just listening to what you all have to say. You make some valid points and I would like the chance to speak myself,” Vashna said.
“But what if we don't want to listen to you?” Calloway said. The two were working in tandem now and Vashna wondered if the whole charade had been rehearsed to unnerve him. “What if we know what you're going to say? What if we’re already convinced that we are not interested in your spiteful lies and tales of deception?”
Again, Vashna took deep breaths and forced a smile. He realised he might be looking smug but the alternatives were not worth thinking about. The alternative involved punching every single one of the Warlords in the face and then sticking a dagger through their hearts. The Prince had maintained King Jacquard’s edict not to allow weapons in the war council. Vashna always saw the logic in this but no more so than now. He was willing to follow the Prince but had not considered how much of an influence the other Warlords might still have on his decisions.
“If you truly want me to fight you to prove myself I will, but I do not see how discarding your lives will further the cause of our people.” Vashna enjoyed how some of the Warlords bristled at that. They were proud men and although they knew they would probably finish second best in any combat with him, they would never acknowledge it.
“Despite what we may think of each other we have a common enemy. That enemy needs to be destroyed. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?” Grath said.
“Exactly,” Vashna said.
“Wrong,” Tulber said “The enemy of my enemy is my enemy. There is no alliance to be had.”
“If you feel this way then why are we even having this Council?” Vashna said. He did not like wasting his time and his patience was beginning to wane. “Why are we all sat here wasting our time?”
“Good point,” Unger said. As one the Warlords looked over at Althalos. The Prince finally looked up and almost seemed surprised that they were there.
“I wanted to see how you would react to each other. It is clear any alliance is not going to work as things cur
rently stand. If foundations are weak a platform will crumble to the ground. We need to be united and we need to find a way of doing that.”
“I suppose you have a solution in mind?” Unger said.
For the first time that morning Vashna saw the Prince smile.
“As it happens I do,” the Prince said.
The hairs on the back of Vashna’s neck tingled. He sensed danger but could not see what to do about it. The Prince leaned back in his chair and knocked three times on the door behind him. Vashna heard boots marching towards the door. Seconds later it opened and half a dozen guards streamed into the room. Vashna rose and looked for a way to escape. The other Warlords seemed as surprised as he felt. They all stood as if unsure whether the guards had come for them also. Vashna thought about lifting the chair as a weapon but it was solid oak and he would never raise it high enough. To his left Grath picked up on his desperation and moved away. The Prince remained seated as he spoke.
“I promised you I would hear your words Vashna. I am one to keep my promises. However, your actions cannot go unpunished. We have laws in Frindoth and I will not ignore them or be held to ransom just because you can offer us something that we need. In three days, you will stand trial for your crimes. We will listen to what you have to say and we'll decide how you should be punished, because there will be a punishment. I want to be clear on that. I am grateful that you have returned my mother to me, I even believe that you did not know it was she whom you held captive, but none of that has anything to do with your actions affecting the whole country. None of that has anything to do with turning against my father when he needed you most. For that you will stand trial and whether the punishment is death or something else we will wait and see.”
The guards divided around the table, three walking either side. They wore swords but did not draw them. They expected Vashna to obey the Prince’s orders.
