Wilchard and Rosmont, the Cordentine ambassador, were shown into the tent by the guards outside.
Wilchard bowed to Edgar. ‘Your Highness, Lord Rosmont of Cordence.’
‘Please sit down, gentlemen,’ said Edgar, nodding to some seats prepared for the meeting.
‘Your Highness,’ began Rosmont, bowing low. Rosmont began his usual speech, which involved a formal greeting from King Glanna and incorporated a brief history of all the special links and mutual treaties between the two countries. Edgar maintained a fixed smile throughout the proceedings as the ambassador listed what King Glanna believed to be the Prince’s most special virtues.
‘Please send King Glanna my best wishes,’ replied Edgar when, at last, Rosmont had finished.
Rosmont bowed low in acknowledgement. ‘I understand you have another ambassador at court, from the newly independent provinces of Trevenza and Grienna?’, he enquired.
‘Yes, a man arrived late last night, but I have yet to speak to him,’ answered Edgar.
‘Ah,’ came the reply. Rosmont was obviously doubtful of this, but in truth, the ambassador had been so tired from his speedy journey that he had been allowed to rest and was due to speak with Edgar after this meeting with Rosmont. The two provinces had only just claimed independence from Persala, and were now desperately sending envoys across Dalriya in the hope that other states would acknowledge this independence and lend some legitimacy to the move. King Mark of Persala would, of course, treat any such acknowledgement as an attack on his sovereignty.
‘I was sorry to hear about the loss of your national treasure the other day,’ said Rosmont, moving on to a new subject, ‘and shocked to hear that you were threatened yourself?’
‘Yes. I hope to find out who the perpetrators were.’
‘And the direction your army is going would indicate that you believe North Magnian agents were behind it?’
Edgar knew that Rosmont would be all over these events, but he wasn’t about to give him anything here, either. ‘Nobody should jump to conclusions over this incident,’ he said sternly. ‘I have sent my own agents after the robbers to retrieve our treasure. It wouldn’t be prudent to say anything else at this time.’
Rosmont accepted that no information was forthcoming on this subject and moved on to another, namely rights over the Wilderness. Mention of the place made Edgar think of Soren, Belwynn, and the others. In the past days, he had put the loss of Toric’s Dagger to the back of his mind and relied on his cousins to retrieve it. He hoped they were doing well.
‘…King Glanna feels that such an arrangement,’ Rosmont was saying, ‘can only be beneficial to both parties.’
The Cordentines seemed to be proposing that a formal division of the Wilderness between themselves and South Magnia should take place. Currently, while those kingdoms that bordered the Wilderness laid token claims over it, in practice the place was a law unto itself, and no-one’s authority extended very far into the forest. King Glanna was always trying to win rights and ownership over places, whether by trade treaties or secret understandings, but Edgar could see little advantage in a treaty of ownership with the Cordentines when neither side had any authority over the place they were carving up.
‘And what thought has King Glanna given to the Empire’s view of such an arrangement?’ asked Wilchard.
‘King Glanna’s view is that Emperor Baldwin will have little interest in the destiny of the Wilderness, particularly if he is drawn into confrontation with Persala.’ Rosmont’s eyebrows always raised to the corners of his face when dealing in intrigue, and now was no exception. The Cordentines expected a confrontation between Brasingia and Persala over the provinces of Trevenza and Grienna, and while their attentions were turned they could lay claim to the lion’s share of the Wilderness; maybe even begin the difficult process of bringing it under the authority of the Cordentine crown.
Edgar nodded in understanding. ‘What you say is interesting, Lord Rosmont. You will understand, of course, if I discuss your offer with my ministers first.’
‘Of course,’ came the smooth reply.
‘If we are now finished,’ said Wilchard to Rosmont, ‘I will escort you out.’
With a deep bow and a few words of gratitude, the Cordentine ambassador was led out of the tent. Edgar rolled his eyes in relief. ‘What did you make of that?’ he asked Ealdnoth.
‘I don’t like it,’ the wizard replied. ‘We offend Brasingia while Cordence makes a move on the Wilderness. Glanna’s soldiers are free, while most of ours will still be tied up defending the northern border. Cordence will have a perfect excuse for building up a large army near our border, and we can hardly object if we have signed a treaty agreeing to it all.’
Edgar had to agree. ‘Knowing wily King Glanna, I don’t intend signing up to anything with him that isn’t in our obvious interest, because it will doubtless be in his. But if he’s thinking of making a move on the Wilderness, what’s to stop him swallowing it up whole?’
‘We could probably frustrate his plans enough to make it too difficult to be worth his while. Plus, if Baldwin doesn’t like it, he’ll face the wrath of the Empire on his own and may lose some of his beloved trade deals there; I’m sure the threat of that would stop him dead in his tracks.’
Edgar nodded, satisfied. Ealdnoth was not the most powerful of wizards: he admitted himself that Soren had more natural talent, but he was clever and experienced, and was worth as much to Edgar as an adviser as he was to him as a user of magic. Edgar would reject Rosmont’s offer, though it would perhaps not hurt to string him along for a while first.
Wilchard returned to the tent and immediately agreed with Edgar and Ealdnoth’s assessment.
‘Can you give me an update on what we know about developments in the north before we meet the Griennese ambassador?’ Edgar asked his steward.
‘The balance of power there is shifting firmly towards Haskany. Since he took power, Arioc has won huge swathes of territory from the old Persaleian Empire. King Mark still has enemies within the country—after all, he seized the throne by force; in the trading provinces of Trevenza and Grienna the people object to paying high taxes to defend what they see as other people’s land. Short-sighted of course, but there you go. It looks like they’ve decided now is the time to make a break.’
‘How do you think Brasingia will react?’ asked Edgar.
‘Persala has always been an enemy, and if the Empire supports the two provinces with enough force, Mark doesn’t have the resources to take on Baldwin—not with Arioc waiting in the wings to swallow him up. Baldwin is not a hasty man and may decide to wait to see how the rebellion develops. He may even have some sympathy with Mark. No doubt he has been weighing up his options.’
When the envoy was ushered in, he promised Edgar a certain sum of money and beneficial trading rights in Grienna and Trevenza in exchange for Magnian recognition of the two provinces as states outside the jurisdiction of Persala. Edgar’s decision was unlikely to alter the balance much either way, but he decided that he would have to let the envoy leave empty-handed. There was no reason to become involved in the conflict, and it was far wiser to wait on Baldwin of Brasingia’s response before he came down on either side.
Events in the north were becoming a concern to the Prince of South Magnia, however, and he talked about them with Wilchard and Ealdnoth long after the envoy had left. If war was coming to Dalriya, he had to make sure that South Magnia was in a strong enough position to defend itself.
The orders to raise camp had to be given long in advance because of the cumbersome nature of Edgar’s army. It seemed to take an age for orders to pass down the chain of command, and the majority of the Prince’s troops were not professional soldiers, but men who only sporadically became warriors when asked to do so by their liege lords.
Despite this, the main part of the morning wa
s still left when the army of South Magnia resumed its progress northwards. The soldiers would often be greeted by the folk who lived in the villages and farmsteads through which they passed: some simply gawped at the sight, others offered food or drink. All of them were desperate to know where they were going.
Edgar heard many a soldier claim that the Prince had decided to invade his northern neighbour, a claim which he noted was greeted with mixed enthusiasm. While some of his countrymen might delight in taking the old enemy to task, many realised that war meant hardship and taxes, especially for those who dwelt nearest the enemy border.
It was before midday when Farred arrived and Edgar was eager to hear his news. Since Farred’s arrival a few days ago, Edgar had developed an immediate liking to the man. He gave his opinions with honesty and intelligence, and he was not afraid of action or of doing things a little differently. Edgar had decided he would be the perfect man to undertake a special mission to the court of Edgar’s neighbour, Prince Cerdda of North Magnia.
Cerdda and Edgar shared many problems, stemming from the separation of Magnia into two states after years of civil war. Edgar’s father, Edric, had become the leader of one side in the war. He had agreed a peace with his enemy, Bradda, whereby Magnia was divided in half. Neither Edric nor Bradda would claim the title of king, but instead be known as princes of the South and North. When Edgar and Cerdda inherited their father’s positions, the peace had held.
The biggest danger to both Edgar and Cerdda was from their own nobility, and it was with this in mind that Edgar had sent Farred to meet with Cerdda. In the borders, both princes were dependent on their followers to defend their territory, and this dependency had long been taken advantage of.
The individual who offered the biggest threat to Edgar was Harbyrt the Fat, Marshal of the Northern Marches. Harbyrt owned vast stretches of land on the northern border and had many men in his power. Few in the region could stand up to him, and those that tried would more than often end up dead, their lands confiscated by Harbyrt as he used his military powers to brand them a traitor. The problem for Edgar was that he could do little to curtail Harbyrt because of the ever-present threat of war with North Magnia. Harbyrt would have little compunction in transferring his allegiance to Cerdda, which would give the North Magnians a big advantage in terms of territory and military strength.
The problem had become more sinister in the last year; Harbyrt had married his son to the daughter of Earl Sherlin of North Magnia, who held similar powers to Harbyrt. These men, who were supposed to be enemies, had developed a powerful alliance and were now strong enough to ignore their notional superiors. Harbyrt had sent no soldiers for Edgar’s army, despite being one of the richest barons in the land. While men like Otha of Rystham might frustrate Edgar, Harbyrt the Fat had come close to rejecting his authority, and Edgar had long resolved to deal with him. With an army at his disposal, Edgar saw an opportunity to put Harbyrt in his place. He had sent Farred to Cerdda to explain the army’s proximity to the border and gain his support for the plan.
‘How did he react?’ asked Edgar as they sat down to eat.
Farred grinned. ‘Positively, Your Highness. However, Prince Cerdda did insist on changing your plans slightly.’
Edgar raised his eyebrows, but allowed Farred to tell his story.
‘As you had hoped, Cerdda is equally as frustrated with Earl Sherlin as you are with Harbyrt. The alliance between the two has made Sherlin a rival power to Cerdda within the country—some men apparently give their loyalty to the Earl above the Prince. There are even rumours within North Magnia that the two magnates intend to formally unite their lands and declare themselves independent of both South and North Magnia, effectively creating a separate state.’
‘They wouldn’t do that,’ interjected Wilchard. ‘They are in a perfect situation now. Subjects in theory, independent in practice. If they tried to go their own way, they would have to fight for what they already own.’
Farred shrugged. ‘No doubt that is true, but arrogant men such as these soon tire of even the pretence of subordination. Either way, this is the background on which Cerdda reacted to my visit, and he was eager to join in the fun. As we speak, he is now raising his own army, and intends to enter the lands of Earl Sherlin whilst we move north to meet Harbyrt. He is using the presence of our army as his reason for the action. He intends to deal with Sherlin, and says he would be only too happy to offer any assistance with cutting Harbyrt the Fat down to size.’
Edgar smiled. His plan seemed to be working. Ealdnoth, however, did not look so pleased.
‘Do we know that we can trust Cerdda?’ asked the wizard. ‘And even if his intentions are the same as ours, the presence of two armies, both of which are under the impression that they are there to fight each other, is asking for trouble. Events can soon spiral out of our control.’
‘I believe we can trust Cerdda.’ answered Farred. ‘One problem, however, might be his younger brother, Ashere. He seemed hostile to any agreement with South Magnia.’
Edgar nodded. ‘By all accounts Ashere has never forgiven his brother for failing to attack me when I was at my most vulnerable, just after my father died. He may try to sabotage the plans; it would be all too easy to lead an attack on our troops and provoke a retaliation. However, I must trust that Cerdda can keep his brother in check. The opportunity we have here is too great to pass up. My magnates would never allow me to move against one of them: it would be an infringement on their power. This way, before they know it they will have taken part in a show of strength against Harbyrt the Fat that will weaken his position severely. If Cerdda does the same with Sherlin, we will have stopped a potential threat to my sovereignty in its tracks and improved relations with our neighbours. There are risks involved in this, but the potential benefits are worth it. I don’t intend to spend the rest of my reign circumscribed by men like Harbyrt the Fat.’
Edgar decided to pay a visit to the mayor of Halsham, a trader named Oslac, at his impressive town-house. Oslac had recently been elected mayor by the council of Halsham for the third year running, and Edgar had worked with him in the past. Halsham was a proud town which resisted the influence of Harbyrt the Fat in its affairs, and Edgar had done his best in the past to give Oslac sufficient powers to continue this resistance. When the Prince confided to the mayor his plans for Harbyrt, Oslac was only too pleased to offer whatever help he could.
Edgar’s problem was that Prince Cerdda had asked for two days to raise a sufficient force to carry out their plan. What Edgar needed to do was freeze time in South Magnia for a day or two, so that his troops and Harbyrt’s stayed apart, while in North Magnia Cerdda got his own force together. He had decided that Oslac and his town residence might be able to help him do just that.
X
Under the Influence
Belwynn stood, exhausted, taking in the town of Vitugia. It was a small border-trading town, situated in Cordence but close to the Empire and the Midder Steppe. Goods bought and sold here might be sent north up the Great Road or taken south to the long Cordentine coast, where they could be transported by ship.
Back in Cordence, then. It was a week now since their brief trip to Vincente’s town, and Vitugia had a similar feel to it. A few big houses for the rich, and lots of very poor ones. A rather mean-looking inn, where Herin was negotiating their accommodation. Although Magnia and Cordence shared a border, they were very different countries. Belwynn knew that history had played its part in this. Magnians were proud that they represented the only humans of Dalriya to have resisted the Persaleian Empire at its height. Cordence, on the other hand, and despite the distance between them, had been the most loyal of Persaleian provinces. Whereas the Brasingians had fought bitter wars to overthrow Persaleian rule, Cordence had never rebelled—just drifted into independence when it found itself geographically cut off from its mother. The Great Road still connected Cordence and Persala in
a very real way, and the Cordentines were a nation of traders, always keen to get the best deal and get one over on their neighbours. Magnians, on the other hand, were a nation of farmers, and, to Belwynn’s mind, had more of a sense of community. That was why Magnian inns were friendly and welcoming, and Cordentine inns were mean and penny-pinching.
Herin poked his head around the door and made a small signal with his forefinger that everyone could come in. Belwynn hobbled after him, eager to get inside The Grape and Goat and spend the night under a roof for the first time in days.
It had been a long day, dragging Soren and Dirk through the undergrowth of the Wilderness, but they had not been troubled by the vossi, and eventually Gyrmund had led them out of the forest and into Cordence. Everyone’s spirits were raised by leaving the place, especially Moneva’s. She became positively gregarious, speaking in full sentences again, rather than the series of grunts and swear words she had deployed over the last few days. While Belwynn was glad to have left the Wilderness, she was not in the mood for chat, and it had fallen to Gyrmund to entertain Moneva, which he didn’t seem to object to.
He had established that Gervase Salvinus and his mercenaries had passed this way to connect with the Great Road, and by offering the chance of sleeping at an inn this night he had persuaded everyone to keep going at a fair pace. Dirk made a speedy recovery from what had seemed, yesterday, to be a fatal wound, and they had been able to discard one of the stretchers. Soren, however, remained unconscious, though sometimes he could be heard to mutter some incoherent speech out loud before returning to silence.
Herin had organised rooms for everyone, and Belwynn was grateful that he had arranged for her to share with Soren. Elana came in to check on him before retiring to her own room, but the priestess seemed unable to help. Belwynn knew that Soren had exhausted his powers back in the Wilderness, and she knew, too, that her brother might not recover from the expenditure.
Toric's Dagger: Book One of The Weapon Takers Saga Page 12
