by Guy Antibes
Jorlan escorted Nirov closer to the throne and knelt. “Kneel Nirov,” he whispered.
Nirov wasn’t about to kneel before this mouse of a king. He bowed to the King and then committed another error of protocol, by speaking first. “Thank you, your Majesty, for letting our troops conduct maneuvers on your eastern flanks. This weather has made it impossible to perform such maneuvers in Murgontia.”
“Jorlan, didn’t I receive the Murgontian petition before the rains began?”
“Uh, no your majesty.”
The King turned to his chamberlain. “Bring me my copy of the Murgontian petition.”
“No need. My memory failed me for a moment. It was before the rains came.”
“As I recall, you wanted to conduct maneuvers in order to work in our smaller foothills,” the King replied. “Why did you lie to me, Nirov Kyrod?” The King was not the retiring pipsqueak, Jorlan made him out to be.
The chamberlain gave the document to the King. “Do you think I am an utter fool? This is what I think of your failure to kneel in my presence.” The King ripped the agreement into small pieces as Nirov stood, silently fuming.
“My King,” Jorlan said. “Communications are difficult and we may not catch the armies of Murgontia before they start their war games.”
“In that case, notify them to order a retreat. Can I rely on you to do that Jorlan?”
“Yes, your majesty.” Jorlan went to one knee and bowed. He hit Nirov in the leg. Nirov was thinking about revenge against this stupid king at the time, but relented and went down on one knee, then up as quickly as he could. The men left the court.
As they stood at the castle doors, looking out at the rain, Nirov said, “What happened in there? Who was that man? He didn’t seem like a fool to me.”
Roccoa smiled. “Oh, isn’t he? Who did he assign the task to notify your forces?”
“You… I get it.” Nirov laughed. “We can continue.”
Roccoa drew Nirov aside under a dripping roof. “The King will change his mind and order someone else soon enough. We must do something more permanent and quickly.”
Nirov knew exactly what Roccoa meant. Sovad would be just the person to take care of King Tomlano. Divvid’s father would soon arrive in Gerell for his new assignment as Nirov’s personal tool.
Now Nirov would be able to see just how good Sovad still was. The thought nearly obliterated the disaster in the King’s court.
~
Divvid Mustak rode into the camp of the Third Army. The ride covered him in mud and he had no opportunity to change before he reported. He stopped in front of General Bollet’s tent.
“You can’t come in the General’s tent dripping with mud,” an officer said. “Change your clothes then return.” The man detailed a guard to show Divvid to his tent.
A short while later, he arrived cleaner—road grime still outlined creases in his face. “General, I bring news from Nirov.”
Bollet looked up from a report, “It better be good. Is Nirov going to make this rain go away?”
“No, but we have permission to play war games. It’s time to move north. Nirov said that you can deal with General Crissor in any fashion you wish.”
“Good,” Bollet said. “Putting Murgontian steel through Pent flesh has been long overdue. I, for once, am glad that your father failed. This time Crissor won’t be the first with the glory.” Bollet turned to his aide. “I want you to order Crissor to stay ten leagues behind me.”
“But it’s seventy-five leagues to the Pent border.”
“Tell him it’s to give the churned up ground a chance to stabilize,” Bollet laughed. “I don’t care what you tell him. I’ll be three days ahead of him all of the time. The glory of the invasion will be mine.”
Divvid was about to say something. “And yours and Nirov’s as well,” Bollet added hastily for political purposes. “Were there any difficulties with King Tomlano?”
“Not when I left. Nirov and Jorlan were to meet with the King yesterday. May I have your permission to report to the group you’ve assigned to my command?” Divvid looked at the layout of the camp on the general’s table. He was thrilled to be in the field with the fighting forces.
~
Divvid led his small contingent towards the rear of the long column of the third army. Four days and now he’d been on the road for just an hour now.
“How are the men?” Divvid asked the lieutenant assigned to him. The boy couldn’t be more than twenty, but he was a graduate of the Military College, whereas Divvid struggled to make it past Assassin’s Guild training.
“Not happy, sir. By the time we take a step, a thousand others have made the mud a deeper mess. It’s up past their ankles.”
“And the carts?”
“There are ten men on each cart making sure the wheels turn. It’s going to be slow going.”
Divvid turned on his horse and looked back at his column. Mud colored everybody and everything the same mousey brown.
~
“Moshin, you made good time,” Corilla Westter said, welcoming the filthy ex-KII agent into the embassy.
“Yes, Corilla. One man can move much faster by himself.” Moshin didn’t have time to scout the Murgontians, that was Panix’s job, but he still retained a few contacts in Gerell that quickly got him up-to-date before he entered the embassy. It’s always better to meet knowing as much or more than everyone else, he thought.
“When you have freshened up, I would appreciate your seeing Tobet and me as soon as possible. This dreadful weather takes all the fun out of travel, don’t you agree?” Corilla was a beautiful woman, tall with dark red hair and piercing green eyes. She had a physical bearing few women possessed, lithe like a cat, but combined with the impression of tremendous physical power. Moshin wished he were at least as tall as she when he first met Corilla. She was his kind of woman.
So, they were going to talk about the Murgontian war games. Moshin thought about what to tell the Westters about Panix. As he walked into the ambassador’s office, he had crafted the answer.
“Sit Moshin. You must have traveled night and day to reach us so soon.” Tobet Westter’s hair had turned gray at an early age. He was tall, lean and still in good shape. Moshin suspected that the man knew a spell or two to keep his body in a perpetual state of tan. Tobet talked like a politician, but underneath the sheen dwelt a man, equal in every way, to his spouse, including height.
“That I did, Ambassador. I understand the Murgontians are on the move.” Moshin stated that as fact.
“Yes, at present. It seems Wilton has sent the son of his intelligence chief, a young arrogant lad, to run their Gerellian operation. Things have changed since we sent your message through Panix Gavid’s messaging token.”
“Kyrod made a disgrace of himself in an audience with the King. Lord Tisano, our sponsor in the Gerellian court witnessed the debacle, dear man,” Corilla said. “The fool didn’t kneel in front of the King and he spoke first. King Tomlano may be a fool, but he is very sensitive about his place and loves protocol. He nearly kicked the Murgontians out right there and Tisano nearly had him convinced to do so when Roccoa, Kyrod’s Gerellian stooge, brought the King two new hunting birds.”
“Will Roccoa prevail?”
“Oh no. Tisano gave the King a Pent-made bright yellow phaeton carriage with a matched pair of black stallions. Two horses beat two birds.” Corilla produced a wry smile.
“So it’s off again.”
“Not quite,” Tobet said. “The King has called a council over the matter. Since we work along with Pent, we will accompany the Pentish ambassador along with Tisano. Roccoa will let Kyrod pant like a dog alongside him. It should be quite a show. We’d like you there to talk about what recently happened in Pent since we assume Panix Gavid thoroughly debriefed you.”
“You might call it that.” Moshin smiled. “When is this Council?”
“As soon as you arrived… let’s say in two hours? The King can’t play with his new gifts in the rai
n, so he sulks in his study until this matter is resolved or when the sun comes out; whichever is first.”
~
The smell of wet clothes permeated the air of the Gerellian Council chamber. The King wanted a procession of the participants, so his throne was set on a dais at one end of the room so he could dominate the proceedings. The King entered once everyone had arrived. All in the room stood and walked to the throne making a single file line as they knelt in front of the King and received his permission to join in the Council.
Moshin noticed that the young Murgontian had learned the proper posture since his last encounter with the King. After the ceremony, the participants sat at the long council table.
Boidan Tisano, the King’s foreign minister sat on the right followed by Trell Blox, a little mouse of a man representing Pent. Corilla had told him beforehand, that the man wouldn’t utter a word. Tobet followed as an advisor to Pent and Moshin sat further down, as an advisor to Tobet. Corilla had no formal standing at the Court and remained at the embassy.
Jorlan Roccoa and Nirov Kyrod sat on the King’s left.
“I need some help, gentlemen. It seems that Jorlan, has sponsored Murgontia’s use of Gerellia’s soil as a site for war games specifically on our eastern slopes. There are some unique formations and terrain. I originally didn’t see anything wrong with the idea and signed off on it.” The King looked down the long polished black granite top of the table. It was well known he liked people to see his reflection in the shiny surface and now Moshin knew firsthand when the king sported a self-satisfied smile.
“Your Majesty,” Boidan said. “The Murgontians are moving north on Gerellian soil in order to invade Pent.” Boidan Tisano looked like a taller, better-looking and slimmer version of Roccoa. The hair was the same curly black, but Tisano had the beginnings of gray wings at the temples. The two were both cousins of the King.
“You’ve made this claim before. Now you say you have a report from Pent?” The King looked at the Pentish ambassador who didn’t say a word but turned to Tobet.
“Your Majesty, may I introduce Moshin Twent of the Morven Academy? He helped train a magician living in Pent. The man, under instructions from the Marquessa, went to South Pent to investigate an emerging insurrection. Instead, he uncovered a Murgontian plot to invade Pent from the south and stopped it. May he—”
“Yes, your man may speak,” said the King, casually waving Moshin on.
Moshin rose from the table. “With your Majesty’s permission, I’d like to tell this tale standing.” The King nodded his assent.
Moshin knew how to spin a tale and kept the King’s attention during the entire recounting of Panix and Lorna’s adventure. He left out a few of the magic parts, considering them Korvannan state secrets at this point and with Nirov in the room, everything word said would be sent to the city of Murgon as soon as the boy could get a pigeon ready.
“Oh. That does put the war games in a different light. Roccoa? What do you say to this?”
“Second-hand words, your Majesty, from a man you’ve never met in your life. You take his story at face value while you discount Lord Nirov’s?”
“I discount the words of a man who lied to my face, who has only just now learned the proper protocol. A man who did not tell me there were two armies arrayed to play these war games rather than just one.” The King nodded to Tisano who had just told King Tomlano that morning.
“Two armies? Is this true, Nirov?” Roccoa whispered to Nirov loudly enough for Moshin and Tobet to hear.
“Uh, I failed to mention that to you, Jorlan. We, uh, thought that two armies could face off each other in mock battle better than one army. A last minute decision.”
Tobet looked at the King for permission to speak. “And from where did this army mysteriously appear? It’s the Seventh Army, if the local tavern owners at the border are correct. That army recently camped on the South Pent border waiting to go over the passes to Pent after Murgontia’s ploy succeeded.”
Nirov’s face reddened, but he remained silent.
“Thank you all. I will make my decision at the end of the week. If you will all assemble here at the same time of day, you will know my wishes,” King Tomlano said.
They all rose as the King stood and left. Jorlan and Nirov rushed out of the room, leaving the Pentish delegation alone.
Boidan said, “Nirov is an inbred fool. But then all Murgontians are fools. The King has no choice but to decide in Pent’s favor.” All the Pent ambassador did was nod, but he did not look particularly pleased.
“What can Nirov do at this point?” Moshin said, knowing what he would do in Nirov’s shoes. “What is Jorlan’s position in the Court?”
“He is a senior advisor. He talked the King into naming him that. Since he is a cousin to the King, as am I, he does have some claim to the throne.”
“Is it better than yours?” Tobet said.
“It is. My connection is through the King’s aunt. Roccoa’s is through the King’s uncle. We are both the oldest in each line.”
“Roccoa’s problems would be solved should the King suddenly die from an illness.” Moshin said what everybody else thought. “Does the King have a good security detail? An assassination, and soon, fits with the Murgontian mindset.”
“You say you are a magician? Master Moshin?” Boidan said.
“No, I said I teach at the academy. I’m a retired KII agent and I teach martial arts for those who wish more physical activity to accompany their magical training.”
“One of our best, Boidan,” Tobet said.
“We won’t be able to do anything. The King is very particular about his personal guard. They all look as similar as possible, like the matched horses for the King’s carriage. I’ll see about adding some men to the general castle guard, but that’s the best I can do.”
~
“Your grace.” Lorna curtseyed as she entered into the Marquessa’s chambers.
“I am sending Baston Blox to Gerell and since you’ve just been put on the Gerellian desk, I would like you to accompany him. I’ve received a message from our Korvannan allies. It seems that Murgontian armies are moving along the Eastern frontier of Gerellia heading to Pent.
“Blox’s cousin neglected to inform us of a critical meeting that involved Pent. Very distressing. I will want you to stay in close contact with the Westters of the Korvannan embassy. You are to rely on them more than Blox and his cousin.”
“When do I leave?”
“As soon as tomorrow. Blox is probably cooling his heels outside my door as we speak. It will do him good to see you leave first.
“I have arranged for both of you to travel in a float coach. With this mud, it should prove to speed your way. One of the drivers will be a magician to keep the float up. With all the rain, roads are becoming impassable. I’m worried about the crops. But that’s not your concern. Good day, Lorna. Do not disappoint.”
~
Lorna hated the ride to Gerell. Despite the carriage floating, the horses slogged through the mud, but they made better time than a man riding alone.
She wished she could have said the same for Baston Blox. He hardly had said one more word than he needed to, proof of his grim mood. Baston made it plain that he resented Lorna’s surveillance.
Merra Gavid sat directly across from her and she couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
“Baston says you had quite the adventure a month ago with my former husband. Is he still as stuffy as ever?” Merra looked at her fingernails.
“I wouldn’t call him that. We had some harrowing experiences with Murgontian brigands.” Lorna looked out the window trying to cut off the conversation.
Merra pulled out a fingernail file. “I couldn’t stand the way he kept showing me up. I’ve been certified by the Academy, too, you know.”
Lorna was steaming. “It seemed to me that Panix is intent on not flaunting his magic. I once thought he was colorless and stuffy, as you say, but I know he’s not after what we shared.”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss specifics about our trip. State secrets, you know.” Lorna didn’t turn her attention away from the window.
Baston smiled. “I am privy to State secrets, my dear.”
Lorna reddened. “Not these, Lord Blox.”
“I’ll accept that and I’m sure Merra will too. Won’t you, my sweet?” Baston picked up Merra’s hand and kissed it.
This woman sickened Lorna every time she had the displeasure of meeting her. It was hard for her to understand what Panix saw in Merra. A pretty face? Lorna had to admit that she was a beautiful woman and Lorna felt like a dishrag beside her, but perhaps Merra had changed once she came to Pent.
It took them ten days, including a number of horse changes, to make their way to Gerell and when they arrived at the Pentish Embassy, Blox and Merra hurried inside, leaving Lorna alone in the carriage. “Wait here Lorna.”
Baston left her waiting for what seemed like hours before he came back. “I’ve arranged for you to stay at the much-larger Korvannan embassy, Lorna,” Baston said.
She didn’t know what to think. The Marquessa wanted her to keep an eye on Baston, but he neatly had just arranged to keep her out of the way. However, the Marquessa did say to stay in close touch with Corilla Westter, so she could fulfill that part of her instructions.
“That will be acceptable to me.” She was uncertain if she could stand to look upon Merra again. If anything, the level of conversation had gotten worse the closer they came to Gerell.
“I am so glad you think so,” Baston said sarcastically, barely veiling his distaste for her.
He gave instructions to the drivers and turned back towards the Embassy without the courtesy of a goodbye. Within minutes Lorna had arrived at the Korvannan Embassy, standing in the lobby with bags at her feet.
Corilla Westter came down one side of the double-winged stairway to greet her new guest. “Welcome, you were expected. I’ve heard so much about you but first I’ll show you to your room to rest for a bit and then there is someone I’d like you to meet.
