Elyse imagined how horrific it must be to be an advisor, standing in the room’s center over the great seal, the entire council glaring in disapproval, searching for a weakness in your words and eager to pounce on any mistake. Thankfully, her comments could be made from her seat. Still, she admired those who took the floor with confidence, almost daring someone to challenge their views.
What gives them such strength?
The usual people each took turns discussing the usual topics. Typically, there was plenty to say by all, regardless of how insignificant it all seemed to Elyse with the threat of rebellion fresh on her mind. She had only been queen for a couple of months and yet she felt bored with the same tired routine.
Phasin would often start things off by saying that the crown must build more merchant ships to increase trade with the Byzernian Islands and the great continent of Mytarcis across the sea. He would pound his fist into his hand, accentuating each sentence as sweat glistened off a head quickly baring more skin each day.
Vulira would then take the floor countering every point Phasin made before her. As often the case when discussing trade, Vulira would argue that Cadonia needed to grow more self-sufficient and rely less on foreign trade. She would argue that the only way to do so was to provide better equipment and more land for the farmers, more funds for the researchers and so on.
As rumor had it, the two were ex-lovers and the relationship ended on a sour note. The queen could not confirm whether the whispers were true but it was as good a reason as any for the special hatred the two shared for one another.
Vulira always took a much different approach than her supposed ex-lover. She spoke soft and sweet while nurturing each idea rather than beating the other council members over the head as Phasin did.
In the end, the room would be split, no one would budge on their stance and it would be decided to revisit the topic at another time. And so, the process would repeat itself once again upon their next meeting.
Each topic discussed thereafter often resulted in a similar outcome. Only minor topics seemed to get resolved, as none felt threatened by them.
Elyse could put a stop to the endless back and forth. Her advisors were meant to advise, not rule. But to do that, she would have to take a stance on the matters herself and she knew she lacked the knowledge and confidence to do so. The last thing she wanted was to appear incompetent to others, regardless of the truth of it. She might have had stacks of books in her room on trading routes, farming, and economics but her readings were focused elsewhere as she tried to gain a stronger understanding of her country’s history and overall political environment. So, when the council met, she did what anyone else in her position would do. She stalled, pushing topics she felt uncomfortable with to another day. Few seemed to mind her procrastination.
Probably delighting in the opportunity to argue their stance once again while never having to face the possibility they may be on the losing side.
Illyan, a small man, barely five feet in height, had the floor now and despite his stature, his voice held a great deal of power as it boomed against the chamber’s walls. His pleas contained a passion that many of the others lacked, though Elyse felt it overdone. Today he argued again the validity of improving the roads leading to and from Lyrosene and those lands directly managed by the crown.
Advisors noticeably yawned as Illyan carried on. Elyse had learned from Lobella, that many felt Illyan pushed his own agenda rather than looking out for Cadonia’s best interests.
Isn’t everyone pushing their own agenda?
Curly black hair bounced atop Illyan’s head as he strode around the room in a tone reminiscent of a father lecturing his child. Frustration crept into his voice and he stopped mid-sentence breathing a sigh. Starting again, he tried a different approach.
“Do my fellow advisors really wish to lose their position of power on this council? Do you wish to lose your lands or possibly even your lives?” Illyan asked.
A voice called out, disgust and anger lined the tone. “Are you threatening us now, Illyan? Is that the only way you hope to pass your ridiculous ideas?” The councilors stirred, muttering curses under their breath, all aimed at the short man.
Illyan chuckled. “No. I would never threaten. However, it is apparent that many of you walk the castle with heads held too high to be bothered with the rumblings muttered by those beneath you.” He cleared his throat. “Surely everyone here cannot be so oblivious to the happenings of this country. The possibility of rebellion or even outright war grows each day and yet we do nothing.” He said that last statement while looking at Elyse.
He means that I do nothing. I am so overwhelmed that I have chosen not to act at all. And it seems he knows the information I found out only this morning, or at least he suspects it.
Illyan continued. “I understand everyone’s hesitancy to do anything that may appear openly aggressive. However, repairing our roads would improve the transport of troops and supplies in a time of war.”
“And if there isn’t a war?” asked Gauge.
“Well, then we would have improved the infrastructure of our lands which is never a bad thing.”
Another round of mutterings and noise rose from amongst the advisors as Illyan stood in the room’s center waiting for a response. Above all the clamoring an exaggerated laugh rose up to stifle the whisperings of all others. Adein rose from his seat and continued laughing as he strode to the center of the room to join Illyan. The two were quite the contrast. Where Illyan was short and thin, Adein was tall and round.
Adein slapped his belly one last time to punctuate his amusement before pushing the sweat from his forehead back through his short brown hair. “My Lords and Ladies, Illyan has cleverly used a real threat to push his own agenda. Ask yourselves, how many battles have been won by the quality of roads? I would venture to guess it had something to do with armor and weapons. Wouldn’t you all agree?” He laughed again, patting Illyan on his shoulder as one would a dog. Heads nodded in agreement with Adein’s statements.
Illyan shrugged the hand off his shoulder and stepped away from Adein while addressing the council. “So you say armor and weapons win battles? Would you have us send an army against those we feel threatened by? That seems far more likely to cause unease than simply repairing roads.”
“Lord Illyan raises a good point,” said Gauge.
“He does, doesn’t he?” said Adein. “However, as on many other things, Illyan does not understand the big picture. We hear these rumors of Conroy marshaling his forces but then we ignore the possibility that the tribes of Thurum may once again be readying themselves to assault the fortress used to defend the High Pass. Has anyone considered that he simply is doing the duty entrusted to his family centuries ago by Aurnon the First.” He paused, scowling at everyone. “Yet, we accuse him of treason. And why? Because he failed to make the king’s funeral?” He paused again, but not long enough that Illyan could chime in. “So yes, I do say we send troops out, but only to Conroy’s aid as he defends Cadonia. What better way to show our trust in the man and ease any perceived strain than to help him?”
Illyan opened his mouth to speak when another voice shouted from above. Lord Vicalli made his way to the center of the room as well. The rules of the council stated that only one man, two if in debate, may have the floor at one time. Elyse didn’t know how to respond, and it seemed no one else minded, so she let the action go.
“My good Lord Adein, a splendid idea except I have a feeling that you are missing a matter of vital importance.” Lord Vicalli joined the others in the middle of the room. He was of medium build and height, though more muscular than either the round Adein or the thin Illyan.
“We are all assuming that Conroy is upset with us but I disagree,” continued Lord Vicalli. “He is a hard man and not one to pay attention to gossip. He focuses more on his own duties. I think a simple letter from the queen granting him her confidence would be all that is needed to smooth things over with the good duke. No, I thi
nk our real concern is with Duke Bronn.”
“Both are cause for concern, my dear Councilors,” boomed Illyan, finally able to get a word in, “as well as every other duke, even the loyal Olasi. Every action they partake in can directly affect the future of Cadonia.”
“Always the pessimist, Illyan, of which we all grow weary,” said Vicalli. “And as I was saying about Duke Bronn, I have heard from several reliable sources that he was most upset by the conversation he had with Her Majesty at the king’s funeral.” People stirred in their seats at his suggestion and he held up his hands innocently. “Now, it is not my place to speculate on what was said since they are only rumors, but I was thinking that a personal letter from the queen may be helpful to smooth things over, perhaps granting him some sort of gift as a gesture of good faith.”
lllyan burst out, “You want to reward a man for participating in suspicious activity?”
“That is ridiculous,” said Adein, ignoring Illyan’s comment. “How will a letter find him when we do not know his current whereabouts?”
“Several copies of each letter sent to multiple locations would do the trick. A royal escort for each would be appropriate to add to Her Majesty’s sincerity, I think. Wouldn’t you agree Your Highness?” asked Vicalli, leering at Elyse.
“Yes, would you agree, Your Highness?” asked Adein in a prodding way, obviously not in agreement with Vicalli’s question.
Elyse noticed that Illyan stood with his arms folded in front, not even attempting to hide his anger and frustration at the two advisors who took the floor from him. The rest of the room seemed eager for her response as well. She realized then, for the first time, that despite being the most powerful advisors in her council, both Adein and Vicalli had waited to raise their points until the end and only after Illyan readied the audience for their news.
They expect an answer this time. What do I do? I don’t know who is right.
“Your Majesty? Do you have an answer?” asked Vicalli.
“Your Majesty, these ideas are unreasonable. Do not entertain either. We should be discussing the roads,” said Illyan, pushing Vicalli aside.
Illyan did Elyse a favor as the chambers erupted in argument again. Lords and ladies who, despite their differences, were usually civil to one another now shouted and pointed fingers as the topic of war and rebellion rang out. Many took sides with Adein and Vicalli, others shouted about Tomalt and a few even of Jeldor or Olasi. However, none agreed with Illyan, and his face turned beet red in anger.
With the chambers in such an uproar, Gauge acted, saving Elyse the embarrassment of doing so herself. He stood up, arms raised, and shouted. “My fellow Councilors, we should be ashamed of ourselves to act in such a way. Aren’t we above such petty squabbles?”
“What about an answer?” someone shouted.
“You’ll have your answer when the queen feels it necessary to share it with you. We have now tarried here long enough and Her Majesty has several other appointments to attend. Until the next meeting, we will be on our way,” said Gauge in a tone that said the decision was final. He extended Elyse a hand and led her carefully down the stairs. Those councilors still in their seats, surrounding the chambers stood and bowed as she passed. Adein and Vicalli bowed as well, though each did a poor job of hiding their discontent. Only Illyan dared to be so bold to speak with her.
He brushed by Gauge, blocking Elyse’s path. She had never been so close to the man before, and despite his small stature, he intimidated her. His face resembled something out of a children’s fairy tale, ugly and hideous, like some troll that would hide under a bridge.
“Your Majesty, you would make a terrible mistake to ignore my advice. A terrible mistake indeed,” said the short man, his big voice a whisper, sending shivers down her spine.
“You forget yourself,” said Gauge in a low hushed tone, audible only to the three of them.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I am only concerned about the state of my country,” said Illyan, forcing himself to back away and offer a slight bow.
Elyse left the council chamber in a rush, wanting to be away from everyone, hoping for a moment to gather herself. Gauge hurried after her and once the two were a distance away, he spoke. “I apologize for that, Your Majesty.”
Elyse breathed a heavy sigh, still a little shaken up by the confrontation. “What was that about?”
“Illyan has always been a forceful man. Perhaps he is making up for what he is lacking in height.” Gauge chuckled, trying to make light of the situation.
“Perhaps. Though Adein and Vicalli were hardly any better with the looks they gave me.”
“Yes. If truth be told, I am not fond of many of my colleagues.”
“I need to make a decision on the matter.”
Gauge sighed as they came to a stop. “Well Your Majesty, you don’t really need to do anything. That being said, in light of what we discussed this morning and in the chambers just now, I don’t think this is something you can put off much longer. When we meet again, they will expect an answer.”
Elyse frowned. “I see. And what do you suggest?”
“As much as I hate to admit it, they both make valid points. However, I would urge you not to give either exactly what they want as it would leave the others with the impression that you can be bullied into a decision.”
* * *
She closed the door and dove onto her bed, face down in her pillows. She let out a heavy sigh as she hoped to put the long day behind her. For a half second, she enjoyed the peace but then she heard a small knock at the door. “Go away,” she said, her voice muffled in the fabric.
The door creaked open and a small voice sounded, “Elyse, it is nearing midnight and I have your bath ready.”
Elyse rolled over to her back. Looking up, she gestured for Lobella to come in and close the door. “Midnight already? I’m no closer than I was hours ago.”
Lobella approached the queen. “Closer to what, my queen?”
“Closer to a decision with the council. I’ve met with what seems like every Lord and Lady in the land today and yet I have no idea what we discussed because my thoughts returned to Adein’s and Vicalli’s arguments.”
“I’m sorry for your stress. Perhaps a good night’s sleep will help you decide.”
Elyse shook her head. “I still have to catch up on my reading. I just wish I knew who was right,” she said, sitting up. She walked to her dresser and began to take off the uncomfortable gown she wore. Lobella came over and helped her. “The decision would be so much easier if I didn’t have to consider how it would affect the power of whoever I side with,” Elyse continued.
“Too bad you couldn’t cater to both of them.”
Elyse frowned. “But then they would think of me as someone they can get what they want from.”
“Well, I didn’t mean exactly what they want. You know, just enough to pacify them so they wouldn’t be able to argue, but then again not so much that it looks as though you are showing favoritism.”
Gauge more or less said the same thing. If a servant uninvolved in such things reaches the same conclusion on only a shred of information, then perhaps the decision is an obvious one. Elyse turned, hugging Lobella. “You’re so helpful.”
The serving woman blushed. “My Queen is too kind. I was simply thinking of something my mother told me once when dealing with multiple suitors is all.”
“Well, then give her a hug for me as well. I think I know what to do.”
Chapter 9
Jober listened begrudgingly to Dek and Olan’s constant arguing.
“Be careful, stupid,” said Dek in a hushed voice.
“Don’t call me stupid. I can barely see what I’m doing, it’s so dark,” whispered Olan.
“It’s past midnight what do you expect?”
“I expected a much easier time with this between the three of us,” said Olan grunting. “Maybe if we had some more light…”
“No. You know our instructions,” said Dek, gestu
ring to the sack the three men dragged along the dark corridor. He looked up and nodded toward Jober who hadn’t said a word. “Just be thankful we got this one to help. Otherwise, we wouldn’t even be this far,” he said as they turned a corner, avoiding tools left out from the previous day’s work.
Dek was right. They all knew Jober had the biggest muscles, and intentional or not, they let him take most of the weight.
And more than likely, it’s intentional.
Sneaking around in the bowels of Bazraki’s palace had him breaking out into a cold sweat. But what other choice do I have?
He was accustomed to hard work from spending his early life training as a Kifzo warrior. Unlike other potential warriors who were weeded out and later placed in basic military units, Jober was one of the few who had thrived under the harsh physical and mental stress. That’s what made his discharge from the entire Blue Island Clan military so bitter. Rather than bringing pride to his family, he had only brought them shame.
Carrying that dishonor into adulthood, he was lucky to have obtained work as a stable hand. He never understood how he found love when the entire city seemed to know his shame, but somehow his wife saw the real person beneath that reputation. She and the family they made together were all that mattered to him.
His bulging physique convinced Dek to approach him the previous week about an important job.
“And what if I’m unable to help?” he asked.
“Then don’t come into work tomorrow, or ever again for that matter,” was the response.
“But I have a family to support.”
“We know and we’ll be happy to remove that burden from you, if you like,” Dek had said with a grin. “You wouldn’t really need this job then, would you?”
Jober understood well those grim words. And so here he was, dragging a sack through the middle of some dark hallway, with two men he never cared to know, all in order to protect his family. He looked at them, still arguing, and shook his head.
Rise and Fall (Book 1) Page 17
