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The Coravian Conflict (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 5)

Page 3

by Loren K. Jones


  “Prince Stavin, welcome to Denalvad. I am Lord Mayor Nasval Zel’Walkin.” He bowed, then looked expectantly at Stavin.

  Stavin removed his helmet and replied, “I am pleased to meet you, Lord Mayor Zel’Walkin,” then looked at the mayor with a raised eyebrow.

  The mayor took an involuntary step backwards when he saw the light glint off Stavin’s golden eyes, then someone behind the mayor cleared his throat and all the men went to one knee. A breath later the mayor did as well.

  Stavin smiled slightly and asked, “Is there a reason you wished for an audience, Lord Mayor?”

  The mayor stayed on his knee and cleared his throat, then said, “Yes, Your Highness, there is. There is a matter of Trade that we, the city council and I, wish to discuss with you in your capacity as Minister of Trade.”

  Stavin nodded. “Very well. We arrived fairly early so there is time so long as it isn’t a major matter.”

  The mayor stood and bowed, making a sweeping gesture with his right arm as he stepped aside. “After you, Your Highness.”

  Stavin looked at Karvik and bent his head slightly. Karvik snapped, “Lead guards forward,” and the four Warriors moved in front of them, entering the building and driving the curious back with pointed stares. Stavin and Karvik bracketed Karlin, and the rest of the Warriors followed in their wake.

  One of the councilmen hurried forward to lead the way to the council chamber, and led the four guards in first. Stavin stopped at the door and waited until they had done a quick sweep of the room and returned to the door, bowing for him to continue. Stavin was once again struck by the similarities between the city council chamber and the king’s council chamber in Twin Bridges. It seemed that the imperial architects had only had a few plans for the city halls and palaces. The table was oval, and there were thirteen chairs evenly spaced around it. The room was also oval and allowed just two paces behind each chair. There were no cabinets or tapestries for someone to hide behind, and that told Stavin something about the Denalvad City Council: These were distrustful men.

  Stavin took the chair in the center of the table closest to the door, and motioned Karlin to take the seat at his right hand. Karvik came to a stop behind and between their chairs, and two of the lead Warriors came to a stop beside him, forming a protective wall of flesh and steel behind their princes. The other two Warriors of the lead element moved to put their backs against the walls beside the doors. Outside the room, four of the trailing Warriors took up positions on either side of the entry while the most senior walked forward and turned to stand back-to-back with Karvik.

  The mayor and members of the Denalvad City Council filed in behind them, and every one of them eyed the Warriors with some trepidation. While each of them wore a tabard with the Evandian Royal Guard insignia, they were all in the full armor of the Warriors of Kel’Kavin.

  The councilors sorted themselves out with two younger men having to stand against the wall since Stavin and Karlin had taken their seats. Once everyone was standing near a chair, Stavin and Karlin sat and gestured for the rest to take their seats.

  When everyone was seated, Stavin looked at the mayor and said, “Lord Mayor Zel’Walkin, Councilors, allow me to present my son and heir, Prince Karlin Karlit Charvil Do’Kalin Zel’Andral, fifth in line to the crown of Evandia.” He paused as the councilors bowed in their seats and Karlin acknowledged them. “Lord Mayor, you said you have a matter of Trade that you wished to discuss with me.”

  The mayor stood and bowed deeply. “Yes, Prince Stavin. It concerns the Favored Trader status that you granted the Aravad Traders’ Council.”

  “You object?” Stavin asked, but his tone made it more of a statement than a question.

  The mayor took a deep breath and then bowed. “Yes, Your Highness. The Kavadians are undercutting our prices. It’s causing some difficulties for our Trading Houses.”

  Stavin let his mouth take on a bitter twist. “To be precise, Lord Mayor Nasval Zel’Walkin, primary owner of the Fel’Barton Trading House, it’s cutting into your profits.” The mayor looked surprised by Stavin’s knowledge of his holding, but didn’t say anything. “I’m fully aware of who each of you is and what your interests in Trade are. I expected a complaint of this kind after the messages I received in Twin Bridges. Let me make this clear: the Aravad Traders’ Council is necessary to the health and well-being of the people of Evandia, especially in the old Farindian territories. They are primarily shipping foodstuffs into Evandia. The fact that they can sell grain at a lower price than you and still turn a profit says more about you than them.” Stavin swept the room with a glance.

  One of the councilors stood and bowed slightly, then plowed on without waiting for Stavin to acknowledge him. “Prince Stavin, the Kavadians are trying to run us out of business.”

  “No, Lord Zel’Jeslan, they are trying to build their businesses. Please try to remember that I am also involved in Trade. The Kavadian prices are lower than yours, but not significantly so.”

  “Prince Stavin, this must be stopped!” Lord Zel’Jeslan all but yelled, causing the eye of every Warrior in the room to focus on him.

  Stavin raised an eyebrow before replying in a mild tone, “I suggest you remember who you are speaking to, Lord Zel’Jeslan. I also ship food from Kavadia into Evandia.”

  “You pay no taxes though,” Lord Zel’Jeslan replied sullenly.

  “I pay two and a half percent, as do all of the Aravad Traders who come to Evandia. Only caravans that I am personally accompanying are tax exempt. The Aravadian House of Kel’Aniston is separate from the Evandian House.” He paused to shake his head and grimace. “Outsmarted myself that time.”

  Lord Zel’Jeslan shook his head as if wishing to deny Stavin’s assertion. “That is beside the point--”

  “That is precisely the point, Lord Zel’Jeslan,” Stavin snapped, interrupting the angry lord. “You and your compatriots buy grain from our farmers at a low price since you control most of the market in this area, then sell it to the people of the cities at nearly twice the price. The Aravadian Traders buy in Kavadia at nearly the same price you pay here, then ship the grain all this way and still turn a profit while selling more than ten percent under your prices.”

  “You don’t--”

  “Shut up,” Stavin snapped, causing the surprised lord to close his mouth with a snap as he took a step back and fell into his chair. The look of shock on his face almost made Stavin smile, but he was really angry. “I understand that people starved to death in Denalvad last winter because they couldn’t afford your prices. You, Lord Zel’Galvis, Lord Zel’Keltar, Lord Zel’Omron, and Lord Zel’Seraval,” Stavin’s head turned to focus on each of the lords as he spoke their names, “control almost all the foodstuffs brought into Denalvad. Or you did until we opened the markets to the Traders from Aravad. Understand me, my lords. You will not grow fat while people starve for lack of a spark.”

  “P-Prince Stavin--” the Lord Mayor stammered, but Stavin wasn’t through.

  “That will be all, my lords. Let this stand as a warning: I will ship food in here and sell at a loss if I need to in order to feed the people of Denalvad and the surrounding countryside. But if that becomes necessary,” he said as he paused, and his head bent forward as his brows drew down over his eyes, “heads will roll.” He swept the room with a scathing glare, and every man there seemed to feel the heat of Stavin’s anger in the gaze of his golden eyes. Stavin stood, forcing the councilors to stand with him, then turned and just looked up at Karvik.

  Karvik snapped, “Detail, form up,” sounding way too much like Barvil for Stavin’s comfort.

  Stavin looked at Karlin and winked since none of the lords could see them, then led the way out of the council chamber. He waited until they were mounted before speaking to his son again. “Remember the joke about the farmer and the mule? First thing you gotta do is get their attention.”

  Karlin giggled while a low rumbling chuckle came from Karvik. “I’d say you got their attention, Daddy,
” Karlin said as he grinned.

  “He does tend to do that, doesn’t he?” Karvik asked with a grin.

  Stavin grunted his amusement. “Find the Temple of the Nurturer, Kar.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Karvik replied, then rode the short distance to where a group of City Guardsmen were standing. He returned a moment later. “Back to the inn and on through town. The temple is on the road to Coravia.”

  Stavin sighed and nodded. “Tomorrow then. Back to the inn, Kar.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Karvik replied, then snapped to his men, “Form up!” The guards led off as they formed into a column of threes, and Stavin and Karvik once again bracketed Karlin.

  “You know, Stave, you scared those councilors half to death back there,” Karvik said conversationally.

  “I meant to,” Stavin replied.

  “You wouldn’t really behead Chosen lords, would you, Daddy?” Karlin asked.

  Stavin nodded. “If I had to. But the warning I gave them is going to be sufficient. No one is going to starve in or around Denalvad this winter. Tomorrow we’ll make sure of it.” Karlin tilted his head to the side in an unasked question. “Tomorrow, you will make your first donation to the Nurturer.”

  Karlin’s eyes went round in wonder. He asked, “The full donation, like in olden times?” He wore an excited expression on his handsome young face, and a wide grin.

  “The full donation,” Stavin confirmed.

  Chapter 3

  KARLIN WAS SILENT, BUT OBVIOUSLY EXCITED on the ride back to the inn. As soon as they arrived he slid off his horse and started toward the inn. Stavin stopped him in his tracks.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  Karlin stopped and looked back at his father, then mutely nodded and gathered up his reins, then led his horse to the stables. Stavin and Karvik exchanged a grin as they followed him, and helped lift his saddle down. Karlin took care of the bridle and blanket himself.

  Karvik reached over and tousled Karlin’s hair. “You’re doing fine, Karli. You just have to remember that you’re not in the Royal Stables now. She’s your responsibility.”

  Karlin nodded. “I know, Uncle Kar, but sometimes I forget.”

  “So did your dad when he first got his horse.”

  Karlin looked at his father with wide eyes. He asked, “You forgot to take care of your horse?” in a stunned tone.

  Stavin looked at Karvik and shook his head. “This is what I get for keeping you around. Yes, Karlin, I forgot to take care of my horse--once. Grandpa Charvil made sure I never forgot again.”

  Karlin smiled hugely. “I’ll bet he did.”

  Once the horses were properly seen to, Stavin led them into the inn. Sharindis was in the common room with a bevy of ladies around her. She looked over and smiled, then waved for Stavin to go on upstairs. Stavin just nodded and led Karlin up to the royal suite.

  Stavin found his butler, Avrin Fel’Nahla, and Karlin’s valet, Rahlf Fel’Vasdan, involved in arranging the rooms. “Is everything in order, Avrin?” Stavin asked as soon as he walked in.

  “Yes, Prince Stavin. The twins, both sets, are arranged in the left-hand bedroom, and Prince Karlin and Rahlf have the right-hand bedroom. You and Princess Shari are in the middle.”

  “And you and Sindal?”

  Avrin smiled. “We flipped a crown. She gets the big sofa while I get the love seat.”

  Stavin shook his head. “That won’t do. I can’t have you crippled before we get to Coravia. Go talk to the innkeeper and see if you can get two additional beds brought in here.”

  Avrin bowed slightly before saying, “Yes, Prince Stavin,” and turning away.

  Rahlf came out of the side bedroom and bowed. “Prince Karlin, I have your bath drawn and a fresh set of clothing laid out for you.”

  Karlin’s chin firmed up in defiance, but Stavin stopped his objections before he could voice them. “You’ve been riding a horse in the hot sun all day, Karlin. Bathe and put on clean clothes before the evening meal. I’ll be doing the same.”

  Karlin frowned and said, “Yes, sir,” in a sullen tone.

  Stavin chuckled and went into his bedroom. As expected, there was a clean set of clothes laid out on the bed and the wash-tub that served as the room’s bath was full of hot soapy water. He shucked himself out of his armor and under padding and sat in the tub. He was almost done bathing before Avrin returned.

  “The innkeeper is having his men bring in two beds, Your Highness. Let me see to your hair and then I’ll give you a final rinse.”

  Stavin nodded and allowed Avrin to wash his hair. It had taken a lot of convincing on the part of Kalin and Marina to get him to let the servants do their jobs when he had finally moved into the palace permanently. Now, three years later, he just bore with the nonsense and didn’t even try to object. He stood when he was asked to and let Avrin pour a bucket of fresh hot water over his head. Stavin stepped aside and took the towel from Avrin, then looked at his armor.

  “Rinse out my under padding before you dump the bathwater, Avrin. It’s got to smell as bad as I did.”

  Avrin’s eyes danced in merriment as he replied, “No comment, Your Highness.”

  “You might not, but Shari sure would.” Stavin walked over to the bed and started dressing himself while Avrin was busy. He’d put on all but his vest by the time Avrin got to him.

  “That will do, Prince Stavin. I had a word with Rahlf, and Prince Karlin is wearing a similar outfit.”

  “That’ll please Shari. Are they ready yet?”

  “No, Prince Stavin. I’d guess it’ll be half a span before Prince Karlin is dressed to Rahlf’s satisfaction.”

  Stavin just chuckled. “He does have strong opinions about what’s appropriate for his charge to wear, doesn’t he?”

  “Indeed, Prince Stavin. We all do. Fortunately, Prince Karlin is much more compliant than you.”

  Stavin grinned but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t necessary. It was slightly more than a span later that they heard noise in the central room of the suite and went out to find Karlin waiting. His clothes were an almost exact match to Stavin’s, except for his shirt. Rahlf had dressed him in a shirt with a frilly collar while Stavin’s shirt had a flat one.

  “It seems silly to dress up at an inn,” Karlin groused when he saw his father. “It’s not like we’re at court or anything.”

  Stavin shook his head. “Aunt Marina explained all of this, Karlin. On the road, we’re always at court. We have to show the people that they are important enough for us to dress up. Besides,” he glanced at Avrin and Rahlf, “we’ve got dozens of new outfits to wear. We’ve got to let the servants decide how they look and which combinations they want to dress us up in. And how they fit. I may not be growing anymore, but you’re growing like a weed. By the time we head back to Twin Bridges you’ll probably be wearing my clothes.” He laughed at the surprised expression on Karlin’s face. “Imagine the fun it’ll be listening to Avrin and Rahlf arguing about which of us gets to wear which outfit.”

  “There shall be no arguments of that kind, Prince Stavin,” Avrin said in a firm but respectful tone. “I’ll sic Sindal on him if he tries.”

  Both Stavin and Karlin laughed at the expression on Rahlf’s face. “Very well,” Stavin said as he turned Karlin toward the door. “Let’s go see what your mother has planned for us.”

  * * *

  Sharindis and the women had gone into the inn and been escorted up to the Royal Suite. “We’re all bathing,” she said, looking pointedly at her daughters. Both of them looked sullen, but obeyed. Helva and Delva took charge of the twins while Sindal followed Shari. Before she closed the door, Shari looked over her shoulder at Master Sergeant Zel’Halvis. “Mohriah, have half your women clean up while we do. You’ll all probably be needed all night.”

  Master Sergeant Zel’Halvis nodded and bowed, then grinned as she said, “Yes, Your Highness.”

  It took almost three spans to get the twins cleaned and dressed to their m
aids’ satisfaction. Mohriah had sent all of her women to bathe and a goodly portion of the male Guards had bathed as well. Major Zel’Astel had ordered that before Shari had even made it upstairs.

  Shari smiled when she saw her girls. They wore dresses identical to hers except for the size. “Very nice, ladies. Now, let’s go see how impressed the local ladies are.”

  Shari led the way, but stopped when she reached the top of the stairs. “What happened?” she asked rhetorically. “Did every lord and lady in the city come here?”

  Major Zel’Astel laughed as he answered, “Just about, Your Highness.”

  Shari shook her head and muttered, “Gods Below.” Then she straightened her back, pasted a smile on her lips, and calmly descended into the madness of the common room. Shouts of “Princess Sharindis!” warred with shouts of “Your Highness!” to overwhelm her, but the Royal Guards kept everyone back as Shari led her daughters and maids to a table in the front corner of the room. She wouldn’t admit it if she realized what she was doing, but her instinct was to put a wall at their backs. An arch of Guardsmen was backed by an equal number of Guardswomen around them, and a glance through the windows showed Guardsmen moving into position outside as well.

  Shari nodded to Warvin Zel’Astel and said, “Let the ladies in one at a time, Major.”

  The first Lady who approached was a timid old woman who seemed nervous for some reason. She bowed deeply before saying, “Princess Sharindis, I am Mirriam Zel’Varan. I just wanted to tell you how pleased I am to finally meet you. I’m from Heran’s Bridge originally, and if not for your husband, I would likely have died at the hands of the Andarians. As it was, we were spared from their attack. It has been an honor to meet you.”

  Shari stood and returned the old lady’s bow. “I am pleased Stavin was of service to you and your community.” The old woman bowed again and turned away, passing between the guards to meld back into the crowd.

  Most of the ladies didn’t want more than to be able to say they spoke to the princess personally—and be seen speaking to her by their peers. Everything was calm until Stavin arrived. A very portly woman with much too much makeup and perfume on strode up to the guards and almost shouted, “Princess Sharindis, I demand you bring Prince Stavin down to speak to me immediately!”

 

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