Three years later.
The assassin knew that his target would be leaving the tavern soon. He moved up the street towards an ally he’d already picked out. Under his cloak was a compact, folding crossbow. It might be called the ‘Cornu Uzi’ if they knew what an Uzi was. The weapon was a little more than two feet long, and when the arms were folded, it was only eight inches wide. It could easily be concealed under a cloak. It was one of the specialized weapons that the assassins’ guild had developed.
The bolts for the crossbow were dipped in a potent neurotoxin that would kill in a matter of minutes. That meant that the wound did not have to be fatal in and of itself. The poison would ensure that the victim died.
Ambrit and his party left the tavern. He was in a good mood. His business was doing well, and he was well placed to be named successor to the old Duke. The Duke may prefer his second cousin, but his advisors preferred him. He had the qualities that they were looking for in a successor.
Some of his supporters had suggested that he have his chief rival, Prester, eliminated. He had rejected the idea because the suspicion would naturally fall on him, and the old Duke would not be happy. No, he was quite content to let the whole thing play out.
The assassin turned his back to the street and took out his crossbow. It was the work of just a few seconds to pull the two arms out and put the pins in to hold them in place. He then cocked the bow and carefully put the poisoned bolt into place. He kept his back to the street, pretending to be relieving himself. He had a small mirror attached to the cowl of his cloak that showed the street.
Ambrit and his party passed by, barely noticing the man who appeared to be relieving himself in the ally. Such things were not uncommon in Gortyn. When they were about five yards past the alley, the assassin turned and aimed carefully. He fired the crossbow, and even as the bolt hit Ambrit in the back, he was moving down the alley towards the other street and collapsing the bow and putting it under his cloak.
Ambrit cried out and fell to the street. At first, his companions were confused. Then they saw the crossbow bolt sticking out of his back. The cry went up ‘Assassin,’ ‘Assassin.’ They tried to get Ambrit up and get him to a healer. As they were carrying him, he shuddered and died as the neurotoxin did its work. He was dead before they could do anything.
Two days later, Prestor was meeting with his father. The assassination of Ambrit was the talk of the city. Both Prestor and his father were concerned. His father questioned Prestor. “Son, did you have anything to do with the assassination of Ambrit?”
“NO! I didn’t. I held no ill will towards him. Even though we’re the two leading candidates to succeed the Duke, killing him would be foolish. You can check the accounts. I didn’t take out enough money to pay for such a thing. I doubt any of my supporters did either. The only thing it could do was to throw suspicion on me, which would hurt my chances. I’m not nearly that stupid.”
“Well, it will be the devil to convince people that you weren’t behind it. If, as you say, you had nothing to do with it, then somebody is out to change who succeeds the Duke. The assassins’ guild is not normally brought in for just business reasons. They specialize in these types of murders. That means, son, that you may well be a target.”
That thought hadn’t occurred to Prestor, and it was a sobering realization. After meeting with his father, Prestor went to his favorite tavern to have lunch with a group of friends and advisors.
Ambrit’s assassination was on everybody’s lips, and it was no different with his friends. Donnis, whose father was a Porfian merchant, who’d moved to Gortyn some twenty years ago to expand the family business and act as a Porfian agent, knew that Porfia was really behind the assassination. He also knew that there would be an abortive attempt on Prestor. He just didn’t know when. It was his father who’d paid for the assassination of Ambrit using funds provided by Porfia. Donnis had made friends with Prestor, and he had become one of Prestor’s most trusted advisors.
“Of course, suspicion is going to fall on you, my friend,” said Donnis. “You’ve got the most to gain from Ambrit’s death. But in a way, you also have the most to lose because certain people will not be happy about it. The common folk don’t care; this is for the higher-ups and doesn’t involve them.
The only thing you can do is carry on as usual and let this all recede into history. The Duke will rule for another ten years at least. By that time, this will be a distant memory.”
“I hope you’re right,” Was Prestor’s reply. “The question is if it wasn’t my group, then who was it. And are they going to stop with Ambrit?”
That left the group silent. Finally, Prestor said, “I guess I’ll just have to be careful for a bit.”
That brought nods of assent all around. The assassin had taken a room in the inn across the street from the tavern. From his room, the assassin had a good view of the street. His assignment was to make it look like there was a failed assassination attempt on Prestor. The assassin admired the cunning of the people who set this up. He knew that someone in Prestor’s circle had paid for the assassination of Ambrit and this attempt as well. It would throw suspicion off Prestor, and everyone would look to someone else as the source of the assassination attempt.
As Prestor and his group left the tavern and headed up the street, the assassin took careful aim. He was back from the window, and the room was dark. No one could see him or his crossbow. At the right time, he fired the crossbow. The bolt flew down, passing within inches of Prestor’s neck, and slammed into a wall. The assassin was down the stairs and out the inn's back door in just a couple of minutes. Within the hour, he was out of the city heading home.
Prestor felt the arrow pass by his neck and saw it slam into the wall. He stood there in shock. Donnis reacted quicker than the others and dragged Prestor into the nearest shop and away from the door. The rest of his friends followed. It took ten minutes, but the Guard finally showed up. They found the arrow and a still shaken Prestor in the shop. They started a search, but it was fruitless. The assassin was long gone.
Two weeks later, Duke Sensor declared Prestor his successor. His council had reluctantly agreed to his choice. From then on, Prestor and his advisors, including Donnis, sat in on all decisions for the Duchy. Ten years later, Duke Sensor retired, and Prestor became the Duke of Gortyn. Donnis convinced Prestor to expand the Guard, and it was gradually filled with Porfian mercenaries, who were, in reality, Porfian Guards. It took ten years, but Duke Prestor gradually realized that the Porfians controlled the Guard and, therefore, the duchy. Eventually, he was ‘retired’ and replaced by a Duke from Porfia.
Once the Porfian’s controlled Gortyn, they gradually gained influence in the two smaller southern seaports of Andros and Eubea. Eventually, the Porfian’s didn’t bother to replace the rulers; they put Porfian advisors in place who were the actual rulers, backed by a Guard made up of Porfian mercenaries.
Controlling the King
The Porfian monarchy had shown the ability to carefully plan a long-term strategy to take advantage of a neighboring state's weakness. Once they had their plans in Gortyn proceeding along a path that looked favorable to them, they turned their eyes on the capital of Tantulus and the monarchy itself.
King Hector was a fleckless ruler who left the hard work of governing to his subordinates. That meant for all intent and purposes, the Chamberlin Count Dzeko and the Treasurer, Baron Norven, ran the country. The ordinary people generally didn’t notice, and more importantly, they didn’t care. Who ruled was of little consequence. What mattered was taxes and order. If the taxes weren’t too onerous and there was a reasonable amount of order, then they were content.
The upper classes did care who ruled. They felt that their position entitled them to a say in the kingdom's policies. Under a normal king, they would have influence. Under Hector, they didn’t. He did hold court and hear from people, but it made no impression. If he mentioned that something needed to be done to the Chamberlin, the King never followed up and didn’t really
care.
Once this became apparent, people went to the Chamberlin and occasionally the Treasurer. That infuriated King Hector. He felt that they were usurping his royal privilege. He made his anger clear to both Count Dzeko and Baron Norven and a number of the leading citizens. None of this set well with the upper class, but there was little they could do. The Chamberlin did try and keep his finger on the pulse of the upper class but was not terribly successful. It did mean that some of the key issues in the realm and the capital were neglected and allowed to fester.
Baron Hydrick was one of the more successful merchants in the kingdom and a friendly rival of Count Dzeko. As Dzeko gained more power and became the unofficial ruler of Tantulus, Baron Hydrick quietly fumed. It was too much power in the hands of someone who was not the King. He never let on to anyone that he felt this way. Certainly, never to his associates, and he never mentioned it to his family. Besides, in Tantulus, like most southern kingdoms, women were there to bear and raise children and provide sexual pleasure to their husbands. Daughters were to be married off and sons to be cultivated.
When Porfia started its efforts to gain influence in Tantulus by opening up trade and sending merchants to the kingdom, Baron Hydrick was one of the few who welcomed them with open arms. Many of his contemporaries were deeply suspicious of the Porfians. They doubted their intentions, especially since they had a strong ruler and Tantulus a weak and ineffective one.
Hydrick didn’t necessarily disagree with them. He felt that the danger of any machinations on the part of the Porfians to cause trouble was not too great. There were opportunities that they presented, and he wanted to take advantage of those opportunities.
One day he and a Porfian merchant, Neviin, were having lunch. Neviin brought up the issue of the lack of influence that the upper classes had. “You know Hydrick; I would be frustrated if I were in your shoes.” Neviin could see that he’d piqued Hydrick’s interest, so he continued.
“This is not good for the realm. The ruler must know what is on the minds of his most important subjects, people like yourself. Even our King seeks the council of the upper classes and minor nobility. Not in all things, mind you, but in matters that will affect them, he certainly does. I understand that you can’t even go to the Chamberlin. Is this true? And isn’t the Chamberlin from your class?”
“Yes, Count Dzeko is, and I and others have good relations with him. The problem is the King. If he finds out that we have been going to the Chamberlin with issues, he flies into a rage. He’s made it clear to one and all that it will not be tolerated. So, we are stuck.”
His companion seemed to be considering something. “The Chamberlin has a lot to do. If I were in his place, I would be looking for help. I’d go out and get a couple of intelligent young men from good families, like your youngest son, Edsen, to assist me. It would take some of the burden from my shoulders. It would also allow me to have a backchannel to the upper class without incurring the King’s wrath.”
The two men finished their lunch. Hydrick went on his way and later that night considered what Neviin had said. He agreed with his assessment. The next day he called, Edsen, the youngest of his two sons, into his study.
“Edsen, as you know, Count Dzeko is the Chamberlin for the kingdom. The King has placed extra duties on him, and he needs some good people that he can lean on. I’m considering writing to him and suggesting that he bring you on to his staff to assist him. Would you be amenable to that?”
Edsen sat and thought about it. The way it was working out now, he would be second fiddle to his older brother. While they had a good relationship, he didn’t think that was the best solution for himself or his future family. He considered that working for Count Dzeko would allow him to be his own man. After considering it for a few minutes, he finally agreed.
Edsen proved to be a godsend to Count Dzeko. He was intelligent, personable, and a self-starter. He quickly took over many the more mundane duties from the Count and got the entire operation organized.
Like his father, Edsen remained close to many of the Porfian merchants. Even his two wives were daughters of Porfian merchants. As his power and influence grew, Edsen started to bring his own people in to help him. He realized that he had an excellent chance of succeeding the Count as Dzeko’s only son had no interest in becoming Chamberlin. That young man was interested in commerce, and the Porfians helped him along so that he wouldn’t want to succeed his father. And so when Count Dzeko retired, Edsen took his place.
King Hector had produced three heirs, one of whom didn’t survive the choosing thanks to a bit of help from a Porfian agent. The two survivors, Romo and Lonitis, were both intelligent and curious. Not the type of people Porfia wanted on the throne of Tantulus. Nester was determined that both would die.
In order to forego the usual intrigue of attempted assassinations and other plots, King Hector decreed that the heir to the throne would be settled by trial by combat. This was suggested to the King by Edsen. He wanted the succession decided quickly. This meant that the heir could be brought into the running of the kingdom quickly.
What Edsen did not know was that he had a Porfian agent on his staff. The agent communicated the plans to Peseus, and he quickly received his instructions. Included in the instructions was a vial of slow-acting poison. He was to coat the weapons with the poison. Neither participant in the duel would escape without at least one wound, even if it were minor. The poison would enter the bloodstream, and three days later, the person would be dead. It would cause fever and delirium so that it would look like an infection from the wound.
On the day of the duel, the participants gathered in a private courtyard. There were few observers. Guards were stationed with instructions to kill anyone who tried to interfere. The armorer brought the swords to the two young men. What he didn’t know was that both were poisoned.
The King signaled the start of the duel. It would be to the death. The two brothers were evenly matched. Both sustained wounds, but none debilitating. Romo made a faint towards Lonitis and suddenly slipped. Lonitis immediately took advantage of it and managed to wound Romo in the knee. It was a debilitating wound, and Lonitis pressed his advantage. Finally, the lack of mobility caught up with Romo, and Lonitis managed to wound him in the stomach. Romo dropped his sword and fell to his knees. His brother quickly finished him with a blow that nearly decapitated him. It was a kindness.
The courtiers and the healers quickly surrounded Lonitis. He was taken to his room, where his wounds would be treated. None of the injuries seemed to be life-threatening, and he was expected to be fully recovered in a week. It didn’t go that way. In a day, Lonitis was feverish, and he died on the third day. The healers were puzzled but assumed that the wound got infected despite their efforts to avoid it.
King Hector was devastated. He expected to lose one son, not both. Edsen met with the King. “Your majesty, this is a blow to the kingdom. But all is not lost. Two of your wives are pregnant. Maybe the gods will smile on us and provide you with an heir.”
The King, while dejected over the loss of both heirs, did take some solace from that. While he was growing older, he did have younger wives, and he did have intercourse with them when they were fertile.
Edsen was right. One of his wives did produce a healthy eight-pound boy. He was named Menounos, and Edsen made sure that the heir was guarded day and night. He wanted nothing to happen to the baby.
In Peseus, Nester and the King met and decided that the best course of action was to let the youngster grow up and assume the throne under a regency. One that they hoped to influence and ultimately control. That meant that Hector had to die within the next few years. That could be arranged. The assassins’ guild could make it look like a natural death. He’d die young, but given his excesses, it would not be surprising.
Two years later, King Hector did die suddenly. He apparently had a massive heart attack and died almost instantly. At one moment, he was feasting, and the next, he was dead on the floor. The court physic
ians put the unusual death down to his excesses. It wasn’t true. An assassin had slipped a quick-acting poison that mimicked a heart attack into his drink. That was the real cause of the King’s death.
Menounos was crowned King, but as he was still a baby, Edsen was made regent. While he was used to running the kingdom, Edsen now had additional duties that stretched him thin. He brought on the son of a prominent Porfian merchant, Samos, to be his assistant. What he didn’t know was that Samos was an agent of the Porfian King.
King Hector had maintained a minimal Guard. He viewed it as an unnecessary expense. Soon after Samos assumed his duties, the number of bandits in the area of the capital increased. Tantulus merchants suffered greatly from their robberies. Porfian merchants had some losses, but not nearly to the extent that the native merchants did.
The bandits were Porfian Guards who operated near the capital. They had two purposes. First, convince the regent to increase the size of the Guard, and Samos would fill many of those positions with the very ‘bandits’ that were terrorizing the merchants. The second purpose was to severely weaken the Tantulus merchant class and hurt the minor nobility, putting the Porfian merchants in the driver seat in the city. This would undercut support for an unencumbered monarchy.
This was a new tactic that was the brainchild of Nester. He and King Agnemon thought it was certainly worth the effort to see if it worked. It worked better than their expectations. Samos was able to expand the Guard. He had to be careful to include members from Tantulus in the expansion. But even with that, he was able to put a majority of the Porfians in the Guard.
When the young King was fifteen, Edsen died, and Samos took his place. Within two years, he had installed a complete set of Porfian ‘advisors’ in the palace. When King Menounos finally took the throne in his own name, he found that his power was severely limited by what Samos and the Porfians would allow him to do. They controlled the Guard, and the Porfians were the economic power in the capital. The Dukes, except for Duke Sander in Koronus, were either Porfians or Porfian puppets. He was powerless to do anything.
The Porfian Princess: The Chronicles of Cornu Book 4 Page 2
