The Invisible Chains - Part 1: Bonds of Hate

by Ashling, Andrew

  Arranulf tried to suppress a guffaw, not entirely successful.

  “Heard something funny, Landemere?” Obyann said, dangerously calm.

  “No, no, not at all. I got a mental image of you lying on... Sorry, forget it.”

  “That's what I thought,” Obyann said, still not looking at him. “Have some patience. I'm sure there will be something to your liking among the new pages.”

  Arranulf blushed, but was not about to let this blunt thug get the better of him.

  “Well, just so that you know, I like my men slightly older, taller and with some muscles on their bodies and some brains in their head. So it follows that you're perfectly safe.”

  “Then quit staring at my ass, Landemere.”

  “What ass? There is a back and there are legs, but no ass in between. There is no ass to stare at, Ramaldah, no ass at all.”

  “So don't stare at it, Landemere.”

  The last days of the year were very busy for Anaxantis and his friends. Not only were there the preparations for the arrival of the new pages to be made, but Anaxantis insisted that at the latest in the third week of January the Provincial Council should assemble. For that to happen, summons had to be written and sent to every lord and every community in the province.

  The Provincial Council was a gathering of the nobility on one side, and the representatives of the people on the other. The City of Dermolhea was prepared to host the assembly. Mayor Fraleck had quickly calculated that the cost would be insignificant, when compared to the money all those travelers would bring in. There was also the prestige to be considered and the fact that Dermolhea would finally reconnect with its proud past as defender of the people. And the nobles, ah, the nobles would be fleeced by the adroit merchants of the city.

  “What exactly do you need the Council for?” Tomar asked.

  To raise troops, of course,” Anaxantis answered. “To raise troops and yet more troops. Amiratha should be able to give us seven thousand men. At least. That would give us a fighting force of more than fourteen thousand to meet the Mukthars with. These are odds I like a lot better than those father has provided us with.”

  “Yes, I understand that, but couldn't you just order them?”

  “I suppose I could, but I want their active cooperation. I want them to believe in the possibility of defeating the Mukthars. I want them to feel as if they're participating.”

  “And how exactly are you going to convince them.”

  “Oh, never mind that for the moment,” Anaxantis smiled. “Please, let your office calculate how much it will cost to raise a fully equipped contingent of seven thousand men, and by how much I will have to raise the taxes. I've made my own calculations, but I need official confirmation and rock solid figures.”

  “You're going to raise taxes?” Tomar cried out. “Aren't you afraid they will refuse? They can, you know. They can vote down your proposals. All extra money levied in excess of the Royal Taxes is considered a tribute. In essence a voluntary contribution, at the discretion of the Council, to be used solely for the well being of the province.”

  “I know, I know, my learned friend. But how do you want me to raise troops without money? Let's say I have gilded the pill somewhat. I'm sure they will give me my money. I already ran my proposals by the lord mayor of Dermolhea and he seemed to think that, on the whole, it was very reasonable.”

  Tomar sighed.

  “You are not telling me how you're going to tackle this, are you?”

  “You know me well,” Anaxantis smiled.

  “You'll be pleased to know that my cavalry will be back up to full strength in two weeks. Trained, equipped and all. It's surprising how many good horsemen are looking for a commission,” Iftang said rubbing his hands. “So, whereto next? Tomar said, Dermolhea again. Some council or other.”

  “Yes,” Anaxantis said, laughing at the general's enthusiasm. “And then, my friend, we go for a longer trip. The Renuvian Plains. Finally. We're going by way of Mirkadesh. If they thought I would let them off that easily, they're in for a rude awakening. Begin February.”

  “Excellent, excellent. The Plains. I can hardly wait. I think this is the first time ever a Ximerionian armed force has penetrated that territory. Who knows what we'll find. With any luck we'll stumble on a few good places to lay in ambush when the barbarians come.”

  “Yes, exactly what I was thinking. But first the Provincial Council. We'll need all the men, and I want their equipment in top condition and their cuirasses shining as new.”

  “You want us dressed to impress. Good. Planning any surprises like in Landemere?”

  “Oh, I hope not. Let's say that as lord governor I want to inspire them with due awe for the might of the crown.”

  “It seems like somebody made a mistake,” Bortram said, without introduction, entering the war room.

  Anaxantis looked up from the parchments he had been reading.

  “I wanted to send some money home, so I went to the paymaster to arrange it, and it seems I have received about triple my usual pay.”

  “No,” Anaxantis replied, “there is no mistake. That seems about right. You're on my payroll now, and as one of my closest collaborators you're paid an officer's wage, not that of simple soldier anymore.” He smiled. “And I pay better than my father.”

  Bortram squinted his eyes at him.

  “You're sure it's not a handout, charity?” he asked suspiciously. “I hate charity, Anaxantis.”

  “No, of course it isn't charity,” Anaxantis said, taken aback. “Whatever gave you that idea? Ask Hemarchidas and Lethoras, if you want. They should be receiving the same. And by the way, you're the first one that is complaining because he got a raise. It seems a tad ungrateful.”

  “Yeah, see, that's just it. I don't want to have to be grateful. I want to earn my pay.”

  “By the Gods, Bortram, you make me almost beg to let me pay you. I assure you that you earn every copper sarth you're getting. You're at my beck and call day and night. In fact, I'm robbing you as it is.”

  Bortram kept looking suspiciously at him. Finally he relented.

  “Hm. In that case it's all right, I suppose.”

  Anaxantis looked inquisitively at him.

  “If you don't mind me asking, do you keep enough for yourself after you send money home? It's all good and well to help your parents, but part of why I pay you better than the army is because I would like you to look presentable. If you send everything home, however...”

  “Things are a little bit difficult at the moment. I don't want to bore you.”

  “You're my friend. You're not boring me. What is the problem.”

  Bortram seemed reluctant to answer.

  “I don't understand it too well myself,” he said finally. “It has something to do with the repayments of the lands my father bought. You see, he was the third son so he had to fend for himself. He loaned money to start the farm. It's almost payed for, but there seems to be some kind of legal glitch. Some miscalculations. Apparently my father owes the lenders more than he thought. Don't you worry about it.”

  “Well, I do, Bortram. I can't have you distracted by domestic troubles in times like these. Let me help. Just ask how much your parents owe, and I'll pay—”

  “See,” Bortram interrupted him, “that's just why I didn't want to tell you. I hate charity.”

  “Damn it, Bortram,” Anaxantis exploded, “look at it as a loan and repay me, if you absolutely must. In heaven's name, man, what are friends for if not to help each other.”

  “Don't like handouts,” Bortram murmured.

  “You were happy enough to accept the food I brought,” Anaxantis remarked dryly.

  “That's different. A chicken is not money. And you give everybody chickens. I hear you give them to mad doctors.”

  “Oh, by the Gods, you're impossible. Anyway, just take it into consideration, will you?”

  After Bortram had left, Anaxantis tried to concentrate on the business at hand, but he found that som
ething kept nagging at the back of his brain. At long last he put the document he was holding down and closed his eyes, but nothing came to mind.

  Emelasuntha was walking up and down the terrace that ran up the whole length of her palace-like villa.

  “Come inside, dear,” Sobrathi called from an open door, “it's much too chilly. Besides, you look like a caged wild animal.”

  “That is exactly how I feel,” the queen said.

  She came inside nevertheless and took off her fur lined mantle.

  “There must be something we can do,” she sighed.

  “He seems to be doing fine on his own, dear,” Sobrathi said in a placatory tone.

  “Oh, I know. But what if he has only been lucky so far, and his luck starts running out? There are so many pitfalls and bear traps that could be waiting there for him. He's still so young, Sobrathi.”

  “He's older than you were when you organized the defense of Torantall, dear.”

  “True, true. Still, why can't we go ourselves?”

  “You know why, dear. As soon as news gets out that you left the territory of Soranza everybody and his nephew will be after you. The Sisterhood, the Black Shields, to name but a few, and let's not forget your dear spouse, the high king.”

  “We could travel in disguise. Remember when we used to go out in Torantall disguised as common girls?”

  “Yes, I remember, dear. And do you remember how we were chased by the city guards, and may I remind you, almost caught, because you charmed a boy out of his pants, literally, I might add, and the rest of his clothes, and then ran off with them? Incidentally, leaving me with a stark naked boy behind? Forgive me that I am not overly enthusiastic anymore for your little dress up parties.”

  “That was great fun, though, wasn't it?” the queen laughed.

  “Yes, it was actually,” Sobrathi, who couldn't help laughing as well, agreed. “However, we're not fourteen anymore, dear. It's just too dangerous. Think, if they catch you they will use you against Anaxantis.”

  “Oh, I hate to admit it, but you're right. Still, we must do something.”

  “He has eliminated Ehandar, all on his own, and he keeps him completely isolated. Our contact in Lorseth was the only one who saw him regularly since his renunciation, and now even she has been forbidden to bring him his meals. You see, he's very cautious.”

  “That's what's worrying me, dear. Why hasn't he killed him by now? He could have had him thrown from the tower and had it presented as suicide. He could have had him flung down from that balcony right into the sea. Well, after having him strangled or so, of course. No need to take risks, is there? He could have had him hanged, or poisoned, or done any number of lethal things to him. The fact is, he has done nothing of the kind, and Ehandar is still alive and a potential but very real danger.”

  “Look how he handled Landemere. Exactly like you would have, admit it. In fact, he barged into the castle and put that old crow under arrest in exactly the same fashion you stormed into that council room and arrested the city prefect. For the first time in her far too long life, Athildis had to bow that stiff neck of hers.”

  “He took enormous risks.”

  “No, he didn't. He had her soldiers penned in their lodgings. He was lord and master of the situation from the word go. Give him some credit, will you?”

  “All right, but he doesn't know what dangers could lurk around him. He lacks experience. He's far too trusting. He's too kind, Sobrathi. Somehow, I could never expunge that. Kindness is a luxury denied to kings. I must help him, assist him, or sooner or later he will fall into a trap.”

  “Pardon me for saying so, Emelasuntha, but isn't it more a question of you being afraid that he is outgrowing you? You and your grandiose designs for him? I think you're terrified at the idea that he might have plans of his own.”

  “Plans of his own?” Emelasuntha shrugged. “He's sixteen. What plans?”

  “Seventeen, almost seventeen, dear, and since when has age got anything to do with it? By the way, isn't it time you told him what your hopes for him are? That you have him destined for a double crown? But, I agree. We should give him a hand. A discreet hand, behind the scenes. And maybe we should let him know that you're safe and sound in Soranza. Our enemies know that already, in all likelihood, so there's no reason anymore to try to keep it a secret.”

  Emelasuntha remained silent for a long while and Sobrathi knew better than to interrupt her train of thought.

  “Very well,” she said eventually. “We'll let him know that I'm alive and safe. We have the names of his band of followers, haven't we? It is time that our agents in Ormidon earned their pay. Like I said, he is far too trusting. We'll have those who are closest to him investigated. I want to know everything there is to know about them. What they eat for breakfast, when they lost their virginity and with who, how often they change underwear and whether they believe in the Gods. Most importantly, I want to know their weaknesses. Their most shameful, dirty secrets that could make them vulnerable and thus a danger to my son.”

  “Yes, that seems very sensible. I'll be off to Ormidon first thing in the morning,” Sobrathi said with a glint in her eyes.

  “So, you can go out and have fun, while I must remain here, cooped up? It's not fair.”

  “I'm not married to Tenax, dear.”

  “Hm. Even so, look out. The Sisterhood knows you betrayed them and I imagine they will not take kindly to that.”

  “You're not seriously suspecting him of anything, are you?” Hemarchidas asked dejectedly.

  “No, no, that's the farthest thing from my mind,” Anaxantis replied earnestly. “But you must admit, it is a weakness when someone that close to me is vulnerable. No, what I was thinking is this. What if they try to get at me through him? It could have dire consequences not only for himself, but also for his family, who has absolutely nothing to do with all this.”

  “I've never looked at it from that angle,” he thought. “What if that is not the only weak point? What if Bortram is not the only one with problems? Some of my other friends might have hidden vulnerabilities that could be exploited by father or whoever tried to poison me.”

  They were slowly strolling through the forest. It had been raining, and even under the trees the ground was wet through and through, which made it impractical to sit down.

  “Couldn't you ask Tomar to investigate this a bit more?” Hemarchidas asked after some thinking. “It seems right up his alley. Lending contracts and all that.”

  “I've thought about that, but I think it would be better that someone went over and took care of it immediately. There is something fishy going on. The lands are as good as paid for, and suddenly there is more money to be paid? For the moment I can't spare Tomar here.”

  He smiled at Hemarchidas.

  “You want me to go and look into it?”

  “Yes, and don't just look into it, but take care of it. Make it go away. But it needs to be done in such a manner that Bortram will never suspect that I'm behind it. I hate going behind his back, but it's that damn pride of his that is to blame for that. I offered to give him the money. Or lend it. He wouldn't hear of it.”

  “I could leave tomorrow, if you wish.”

  “Good. Take ten of the most dependable clansmen with you. First go to Ormidon. I'll give you a handwritten note for my personal notary. He'll assist you in all legal matters. I'll also give you a note for my bank, so you can draw whatever money is needed to solve this from my account. Bortram's village is about twenty miles to the north west of the capital.”

  “What if it involves an important amount of money. Do you wish me to consult with you first?”

  “No. Just pay what needs to be payed. I don't care. I want him to not have to worry any longer about his parents and brothers.”

  “And he will never know what you did for him?”

  Anaxantis shrugged.

  “That's not important.”

  “These are tiring days,” Anaxantis said after they had eaten, “an
d not only that, I will need my evenings to look up stuff and work on some things I didn't have a chance to finish during the day.”

  “Say, no more,” Ehandar said softly, “I know you've got tremendous responsibilities. I'll be as quiet as a mouse.”

  “I am afraid that won't be enough. Merely having you around is too distracting.”

  A cold and naked fear came over Ehandar.

  “He's going to send me away after all. He's going to use this to ship me off to the Farms.”

  It was an automatic reflex. He began pleading.

  “You don't have to do this. I won't make a sound, I promise. If you want I could go in the little room.”

  He winced.

  “The little room I sent you to. The little room where I chained you to your bed. The little room where...”

  “I'll go there now if you want,” he continued. “I'll be so quiet, you won't even know I'm here.”

  “No, I won't, because you will indeed not be here.”

  Ehandar looked at him with desperation, frantically searching for words that could mollify his little brother. Anaxantis saw his paralyzing fright.

  “Oh, relax,” he said, “I meant, here, in this room. Like I said, these are fatiguing days for me. I want to sleep on my own for a while and be able to work without distractions in the evenings.”

  Ehandar felt the panic ebbing away, but still dreaded what was coming.

  “I've had a room prepared for you to sleep in. Come, I'll show you.”

  He exited the room and went downstairs, followed by Ehandar. Where the stairs made a turn there was a small landing. Anaxantis opened a little door and gestured Ehandar to enter.

  “This is not a room,” he thought after one look, “this is a broom closet.”

  “I know it is not much,” Anaxantis said evenly, “but it was the best I could do at such short notice. It is too small for a bed, so I had the servants provide you with a straw sack. There are some pegs to put your clothes on.”