Ravian's Quest
Page 17
And yet, Ravian knew, the approaching delegation intended to end his blissfully reclusive existence. He knew, because a messenger from one of his informants in the palace had already ridden in that morning with the news that the king intended to recall him to the post of Defender of the Nation.
His brother had let the Nine Houses have their own way for too long and, even though the kingdom’s economy had boomed in recent times, its defence forces had been allowed to slide into disuse and decay. Ravian had observed the developing state of affairs years ago, and had warned Jeniel of the imbalance on several occasions, but to no avail. In the last few months however, the prince had received intelligence that he and his brother were not the only ones aware of their country’s woeful state of preparedness.
The North was rising again.
The sons whose fathers had never returned from the Great Sea War were now, themselves, warriors grown. Their code had always demanded revenge for that crushing defeat, and their hatred of Tarcus had been fanned white-hot by the draconian trading taxes that Jeniel had insisted on maintaining on the former members of the Northern Alliance. The Northerners had needed only a leader to bring them together – and now they had one.
Groinya, son of Bordwar – the very same Bordwar who had launched his massed Northerner fleet against Tarcus in the Great Sea War – now sought to re-forge his father’s old alliances and Ravian knew that the Dekanian king had already turned his eyes southward and seen that Tarcus’s defensive strength had been allowed to ebb away. There could only be one outcome, the prince was certain – another war was only a matter of time.
As soon as he had received the first disturbing reports from the North, Ravian had ensured that the information had been discretely forwarded to Jeniel’s attention. Even as he did so however, the prince had known full well that, once his brother heeded the warning signs, his first act would be to recall his sibling as Defender of the Nation, to task him with repairing the wreckage of their army and navy in time to meet the inevitable conflict.
Ravian clenched his fists in anger as he stared out into the deepening twilight.
Well, Jeniel could sort out his own mess!
It was his brother’s fault that he had let his forces go to seed – and it was because the king had taxed the Northerners so harshly that they hated Tarcus now more than they ever had!
Ravian was just about to turn away from the window when the first of the approaching riders rounded the final bend in the trail and, even in the fading light, the mass of blond curls that danced about her head drew his eye like a waving flag.
‘That scheming, manipulating turd!’ the prince growled aloud.
Of course Jeniel had known that he would refuse his summons – and so his brother had sent as his messenger the one person that he knew Ravian would never refuse.