Alchemy

by Camille Oster

  “Lady Greve,” he smiled as he looked up again. “It is such an honor you could come.”

  She bet it was. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  His apartments were decorated in a similar fashion as his person. Sumptuous velvets, marble and gold embellishments. Fine ornaments covered every surface, lending a cluttered feeling to the space as if he couldn’t bear parting with any of his treasures. Clearly a man who put weight and meaning to things. Did that have something to do with his prejudices?

  Ashra moved on and sighed her relief from being away from him. She didn’t like the man, and he was the worst this court had to offer in terms of papered over unpleasantness. Particularly as his prejudice seemed to take the place of any actual intelligence.

  “Lady Greve,” she heard Fiedra’s sweet voice. “We have the pleasure of your company this week. Such a delight.”

  “Always a pleasure, Lady Vaultier. Lovely gown you have tonight.”

  “Do you like it? It’s new. Although let me tell you what it takes to get a dress thrown together these days. My dressmaker is always grateful, of course, but the materials simply aren’t there. Stuck somewhere in a port.”

  “This is worrying news.” Not exactly that ladies were deprived of dresses, but that goods weren’t moving. That was disturbing.

  “It is awful, isn’t it? I think this is something your council should look into.”

  “Yes, I agree. But it isn’t my council, Lady Vaultier, it’s all of our council. I noted you haven’t been attending lately.”

  Fiedra looked sheepish. “I know I should, but it isn’t my cup of tea, really. My mother always said I was too high strung to attend to practical matters. I really can’t pay attention when people talk… business.”

  Ashra didn’t actually want her company there, she just wanted to see how Fiedra defended herself. “I understand. It’s not for everyone.”

  A pleased smile spread across Fiedra’s lips. “And how is our marvelous Lord Lorcan? I haven’t seen hide nor hair from him for a few days.”

  Biting her lip, Ashra wondered what Fiedra was insinuating. Was she expecting that Lorcan was spending his evenings in her apartments? “Can’t say that I’ve seen him, either.”

  Curious eyes were searching hers for meaning, as if Fiedra could find some ‘more accurate’ truth there. Ashra wasn’t giving her anything. “I take it he’s not here, then?” Ashra said.

  “No, most likely he’s off scheming. Wierstoke is, though,” she said, turning slightly to the man’s direction, who stood with a group of men, speaking in low, hushed voices. A chuckle emanating from the group. “Dear Roisen always has something up his sleeves, doesn’t he? But then Wierstoke is a wily character. If he wasn’t so portly, I might almost find him sexy. Power is such an aphrodisiac, don’t you find?”

  “I find I prefer loyalty,” Ashra said tartly.

  “Any old loser can be loyal,” Fiedra said dismissively. “If that’s all the cards you have to play, that is.”

  “I am surprised you and Lorcan aren’t perfectly suited.”

  “I played it wrong with him once. Lorcan doesn’t want what he already has. No challenge, you see. Men do so love a challenge. You certainly picked that right. Perhaps that’s why you have all the men around here enthralled.”

  Ashra blinked as she absorbed the ridiculous statement, wondering what intentions Fiedra had for saying it. Without a doubt, the woman was stirring. One moment, Fiedra was pushing her toward Lorcan, the next, trying to drive through a schism between them. “Hardly enthralled, Fiedra,” Ashra said. “Wary. So much more captivating of people’s attention.”

  Fiedra’s tinkling laugh echoed off the high ceiling.

  Raised voices broke through and both of their attention turned toward the noise. A crash of glass pierced Ashra’s ears. “Despicable bastard,” a male voice yelled. “Hardly surprising since your mother made her way through the barracks.”

  More noise followed and it was clear that a full scuffle had broken out. A flash of pushing arms filtered through the crowd.

  “You watch your mouth, Fronsac. You’re as useless as your father. A joke. Everyone knows it. Your whole family has never been anything but a joke. No doubt your mother worked on her knees to get your family even represented here.”

  Interfering hands broke the scuffle apart and what looked like Fronsac departed involuntarily, still yelling abuse at his nemesis.

  “Roenbaum, I take it,” Fiedra stated. “Has a tendency to be crass. Those two have always hated each other.”

  Ashra recalled an incident some while back when Roenbaum had been awarded a portion of Fronsac’s land.

  “Poor Rosalie,” Fiedra said. “She must be mortified. Poor thing. Her husband has an astounding lack of control. I should see to her.”

  “Of course,” Ashra said, not exactly trusting the concern Fiedra displayed. More like, she wanted to go see the consequences of this outburst.

  “Age-old fractures are all coming up for air,” Wierstoke said beside her. Ashra hadn’t seen him approach. “No one to keep them under wraps now. This lot got nothing to fear now.”

  “They should. Does no one fear the world falling to pieces?”

  “They are too short-sighted. Perhaps you need to wonder if you are doing anyone a favor by getting in the way of the new king being crowned. Toying with your radical ideas of distributed governance. It’s irresponsible and it is shortsighted of you playing us against each other.”

  Ashra turned to him. “Really?” she said. How many times were they going to go over this? “So, if I pledge my loyalty to Lorcan, you will gracefully step aside?”

  A grimace twisted his mouth. The defiance in his eyes was apparent. Of course he wouldn’t. He would keep fighting. “I thought so,” she said, turning her attention back to where people were still milling after the upset. “My picking sides won’t solve anything. Both of you just want me as a string in your bow. Neither of you will give up on your campaign no matter what I do. More like, it is your bickering that will help my radical ideas get some real footing. You two defying each other simply on principle at each council meeting is making people see that your concern for the state of the nation never goes beyond your own ambition. So please, don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes, because the effort isn’t appreciated. While you two are comparing cocks, I will get on with the business of stopping things from falling apart. Don’t get in my way, or I really will pick sides.”

  Wierstoke chuckled and crooned. “No one can ever accuse you of treading softly, my lady. You never fail to squeeze us by the balls. With some, more figuratively, while others literally. We really should learn not to underestimate you.”

  “Perhaps you shouldn’t underestimate the peril we are in while you are distracted by your own advancement. As someone who wishes to rule this nation, I would have thought you would be supremely concerned with ensuring there is a nation left to rule. There are more important things to worry about than succession.”

  “You are right, of course. This will inevitably be a drawn out affair. A bigger worry is perhaps that the new liege will not have the power to control the court. Control is slipping by the day. Soon everyone will be taking out their grievances on each other. And where will we all be then? Speaking of, where is Lord Lorcan tonight?”

  “I have no idea,” Ashra said. Wierstoke, like Fiedra, was probably also assuming they were more familiar than they actually wore.

  “Hasn’t graced us with his presence. That is a worry.”

  “Why is that a worry?”

  “Don’t you know by now that our esteemed Lord Lorcan is always most dangerous when he’s silent?”

  Sadly, there was truth to that. He was up to something. Ashra couldn’t help goosebumps rising along her arms. Thankfully, they were covered.

  “If he is not here,” Wierstoke continued. “He is assuredly somewhere else.”

  “Logic would dictate.”

  “The question is where and why? In
due course, we will know, no doubt. Question is: who will he act against? Me or you?”

  “Why would he act against me?”

  “My dear, why wouldn’t he? The fastest and most effective way for him to gain strength is still through you. Have you forgotten that? Your lands are still a shining beacon for anyone who wants power.”

  “My lands are well protected.”

  Wierstoke’s eyes deliberately drifted down to her belly. “Of course they are. Your defenses against his advances have been admirable to date.” A saccharine smile graced his lips before he departed.

  It wasn’t just Roenbaum and Fronsac’s relationship that had taken on a more honest tone. Wierstoke didn’t sugar-coat his sentiments either, these days.

  Still, she couldn’t quite shake the ill feeling Wierstoke had been so careful at cultivating, even when she knew that was exactly what he’d intended. The truth was that she had no idea what Lorcan was doing, but it was unlikely he was sitting at home by the fire, reading a book.

  Chapter 27

  A subdued mood greeted Ashra as she walked into the council meeting the next day. It had stopped being a novelty now, which meant there wasn’t much fanfare with the meeting’s commencement. Ashra had a mission following her recent discussion with Fiedra. Fiedra’s difficult gown was likely an indication of a much bigger problem.

  Niesen Woord was there with exasperated resignation. Few of the attendees to these meetings seemed to trust him to use his own judgment when it came down to it, and the fact greatly annoyed him. He still had a habit of hiding things, which only increased their distrust. Captain Burgess was typically silent unless there was something he wanted to say. If it didn’t involve the guard or security, he was categorically not interested.

  Fronsac appeared looking sullen and withdrawn. His confrontation the other night still weighed with him, it appeared. Not surprising, it had been extraordinary in its vitriol. Wierstoke appeared too, leisurely nodding his head to Ashra when their eyes met.

  Ashra sighed. The sense of cooperation and achievement she had envisioned for these meetings hadn’t quite eventuated. All around her were sullen faces. Lorcan finally appeared in all his stoic glory.

  “Shall we start,” Woord said. “There are still signs of food shortages in certain parts. We haven’t managed to collect as much as we would wish.”

  A groan was heard in the hall.

  “Maybe if you worked more efficiently and didn’t waste so much of it.”

  Woord’s chest puffed with offense. The statement was nothing less than questioning his effectiveness.

  “Maybe if you didn’t try to cheat your way out of your contribution, we wouldn’t still be having this problem,” someone said. Ashra didn’t see who.

  “Enough,” Ashra said, her patience coming to an end. “Everyone will have to contribute what they owe. There will be no one contributing less than required.”

  “Some are dragging their feet fronting up with it.”

  “Then perhaps we need to be more active collecting it,” Ashra stated.

  “That is not within the mandate of this council. You don’t have the right to go on my land. None of you do.” It was Lord Corston speaking.

  “Then deliver what you owe. We all know you’ve been holding out,” Lorcan said. A resentful silence settled on the group. They were still upset about the wheat contribution, which Ashra found disheartening, particularly as it was such a pressing issue and not really something that required a great deal—simply a contribution. How hard was it? And for a good cause, for people not starving. If that didn’t move these people to generosity, then what would?

  For a moment, she entertained a doubt that they were able to rule as a group. These people often came across as too self-absorbed to even consider other people.

  “I have heard,” she started, wanting to get on with more pressing business. “That other goods are not traveling between towns.”

  Woord looked uncomfortable, which confirmed there was something he was hiding.

  “Are the roads not safe?” she questioned.

  “The main roads are safe,” Captain Burgess cut in.

  “Then what is the issue?”

  Woord’s mouth drew together. “There is a small issue in that some traders don’t feel they can trust Raufasger’s currency.”

  The answer surprised Ashra. It wasn’t an issue she had anticipated.

  “They don’t trust money?” Heiege said with a laugh. “Who would be silly enough not to trust money?”

  “There is a belief that the crown is not standing by the currency,” Woord said. “Gold is fine, but any crown promissory note, they simply don’t trust anymore.”

  “Of course the crown is standing by its promissory notes,” Heiege said, his voice booming.

  “What has given them indication that it won’t?” Ashra asked.

  Woord shrugged. This time she did believe him.

  “Then we must give them assurance,” Lorcan said. “Issue a statement. In fact, they can purchase from the crown with them. That will do more to boost confidence if we are actively accepting them.”

  “Purchase what?” someone said.

  “The things they need,” Ashra said, her eyes seeking Lorcan’s. “If goods aren’t moving, maybe we move them and sell. A stopgap measure until traders start trading again.”

  “We don’t have the men to spare to run around moving goods around the land,” Woord stated.

  “Then hire people. There seem to be enough people out of work. Give them work and at the same time solve the problem.”

  “We would never recuperate the money we lay down.”

  “Who says? And even if we don’t, it is worth avoiding provisioning collapsing.”

  “It is not the crown’s business to take over such things,” Corston said.

  “It is the crown’s business to avoid a collapse of any of society’s functions,” Ashra argued. “We focus on the necessities—food, farm equipment and supplies, animal feed, wood and steel—the things that are necessary for production. We cannot afford for any of these things to be scarce.”

  Corston was shaking his head.

  “We don’t have the funds to conduct such an operation. The decrease of movement has meant that taxes haven’t been refilling our coffers. We simply don’t have the funds.”

  “Then sell something,” Ashra said. “Raise the money.”

  “Sell what?”

  “Land. The crown has plenty of it,” Lorcan said.

  “Hold on,” Wierstoke said. “The land belongs to the crown. We can’t just sell it.”

  “Why not? I am sure we can find buyers for it. No one in this room seemed overly keen to contribute their wealth to maintain the crown, but there is enough wealth in this room to restock the coffers with the right incentive.”

  Ashra felt uncomfortable with the direction of this. “The land, although ill managed, is needed to feed the population.”

  “That is an issue for the new king to deal with.”

  “Stripped of land and wealth. The crown will be a joke.”

  “I suppose the crown would then have to be supported by personal wealth.”

  Wierstoke glowered at Lorcan. Ashra wasn’t quite sure what was going on. Was he banking on Wierstoke not wanting to part with his personal wealth to achieve his ambition. There was something to be said for it. Then again, less power in the hands of the crown couldn’t be a bad thing. Her ambition was to decrease the power of the ruler so they could avoid the situation Raufasger had put them all in. “I second that,” she said.

  Outrage broke out in some quarters. Wierstoke was livid. Apparently, he did not want to part with his personal wealth for the sake of the nation. Not that she could see Lorcan doing so either, but then the ruler would have the power to stack the system to award themselves in exchange for the risk. Power always found a way of rewarding itself.

  “It is not our place to make such fundamental decisions about the future and function of the realm,”
Wierstoke said.

  “Why not?” Lorcan returned. “We are, after all, going to have to solve the leadership issue at some point.”

  “Not by toying with the fundamentals of the crown.”

  “Then in what way would you suggest?”

  “You are too careless to rule,” Wierstoke said.

  “And you are too greedy.”

  “Gentlemen,” Ashra said, stepping in to break the eye contact between them. “Perhaps we should break apart and let cooler heads think things over.”

  “We’re not selling crown land,” Wierstoke stated.

  Everyone streamed out and Ashra stayed. These meetings were only getting more cantankerous and she was finding it trying. Actually, she was finding the relentless evidence of greed trying.

  Sitting down on a chair, she rolled her aching feet before the long walk back to her apartments. A cloying discomfort had settled in her chest with the day’s council meeting.

  “Staying after class?” Lorcan said from the doorway. Ashra had assumed he’d gone with the others.

  “Just needed a moment.”

  “You shouldn’t do this if it’s too onerous for you.”

  “And leave you monkeys alone? Collectively, I don’t think we’d survive.”

  “Simply politics,” he said with a smile. “You can’t take it personally. I’ll walk you home.”

  “Fine,” Ashra said and rose. There was no point putting this off; her feet were going to ache just as much no matter how long she put this off.

  In a way, she wished she could mention the fact that she was having real concerns that collectively they didn’t have the decency and grace to pull this off, but she knew exactly what he would say. He would chuckle and chide her for her foolishness. But she wasn’t about to give up simply because she’d had a hard day. They couldn’t afford to give up. She just didn’t know how to get them to work together as she knew they could. None of them were stupid. They all, well, most of them, understood the gravity of the situation they were in, but still, they couldn’t put their own egos aside and cooperate.