Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Prince

Prince Taréz could not remember his father ever being nervous like he appeared to be now. Some nobles were on their way to the palace, to join him on the hunt the next morning. Not just any nobles: they were mostly southern and eastern nobles, those whose lands were most affected by the temporary eviction of the light Vle. He stood in a sitting room, looking out the window over the entrance drive, wondering who would show up first. There was politics in everything, even the order in which one shows up at the palace of one more noble than yourself. To arrive too early was to presume too much; and yet to arrive after someone more prominent than yourself was to do the same. It was a silly game, since there was absolutely no way to find out how much further the others had to go. Invariably, there would be a number of silly excuses for why the arrival time was later or earlier than it ought to have been.
The first coach pulled up next to the door, and Taréz merely watched. Greeting the guests was his mother’s duty; his father would appear only when everyone else had arrived. By then, maybe, he would have figured out just what he was going to say.
Once the first noble arrived, the game began, and the coaches bunched up in the drive, jockeyeing for just the right position. Some brought wives and/or sons, some didn’t. Below, the Queen was greeting them all with the same beautiful smile, regardless of their position or order of arrival. There were murmurs that she was simply faking it all, hiding her true thoughts with that smile, but Taréz knew better. She was one of the most genuine people he knew.
The last noble disappeared from view, meaning he was now inside. It was the King’s cue, and Taréz had to be down there first. Oh his way down, he met Stecky, the dark Vle who had been Yis’ assistant, coming up the stairs. The King had never promoted the Vle, who now served as Gardric’s palace attaché, because he simply didn’t have the seniority or the panache required for all the responsibilties of the job. Which was why Gardric now held some of those. Besides, Yis would be wanting the job back. Hopefully.
Taréz took his place near the front of the dark-skinned crowd beside the Queen, and turned to wait for his father. Stecky appeared first, coming to the stairway and down about halfway. The King paused at the top, and waited for Stecky to make the announcement.
“May I present His Majesty King Lajot the Twenty-fourth.”
That was the cue to bow while the King came down the stairs. The Queen took his arm, and smiled as gracefully as ever. “Good evening.” All straightened, and he continued, “Shall we dine?” He turned and led the way into the dining hall.
“It is good to see that the palace is in good repair,” said Lord Varabia. “They say that the state of the King’s palace reflects the state of the Kingdom.”
“Not necessarily,” countered Lajot, taking his position at the head of the table. The lord was placed at Taréz’s left, for he was the lord of the greatest fiefdom of those present. The Queen, of course, was at Lajot’s right. He continued, “There are many cases in which the Kingdom suffers because too much is spent on the palace itself.”
“But you have always been a modest King,” replied Lord Rollaine. “Is it not true that the funds for your new wing have been saved up over many years?”
“It is true.” Taréz knew that the conversation would not stay with such pleasant banter for long. The funds that were once earmarked for that wing now were being used to build the camp— and he could only hope it would be enough. “That method is a far smaller burden on the economy.” That, he knew, would send the conversation right over the brink— might as well get it over with.
“Many kings would not concern themselves so with the economy,” said Varabia. “Many kings would simply move their subjects off their property willy-nilly, and expect them to start over and be productive again.”
Willy-nilly? That was how it looked to them? Had they not received Gardric’s report? And how long would they continue this vagueness?
“And then there are the times when such an action is necessary,” his father replied.
A young noble named Lord Lacigia, who was without much influence, asked, “And you would consider depriving me of all my subjects a necessary action?”
Taréz could see his father’s face ease a little. All eyes were now on him, waiting for an answer. “Yes, I made my decision based on facts brought to my attention by both my former chamberlain and Gardric. I must apologize if I have left you alone in your lands, but I assure you that I intend to return all the light Vle to their property in due time.”
“And, if I may ask, Sire, when is ‘in due time’?” asked Varabia.
“Frankly, I don’t know. Gardric and I must discuss that in more detail.”
Lord Dabendaben leaned forward. “If I remember correctly, Gardric comes from a long line of bigots.”
“That would not be far from the truth,” replied Lajot. “I have long had to take his recommendations carefully. However, he is also an honorable Vle. He would not lie to me, nor follow my orders to anything less than the full letter. As long as I make myself specifically clear, I can count on him to obey me.”
“That may be so, Your Majesty,” said Varabia. “But is it not possible that he has slowly clouded your judgement? No offense, but you have worked with him for a very long time.”
“I have indeed. However, I have worked with him for the same amount of time as you have had light Vle as subjects. If we say that my judgement is clouded, then it is reasonable to assume that your collective judgement is clouded as well. I know that all of you are aware of the recent troubles that we have had without miners.” There were various noises of assent. “And you are also aware of the bankers’ strike.” More nodding heads. “Consider also: The troubles with our South Hall construction project have been suspicious, including one incident which could have killed me, and a rogue leather-worker who was suspiciously in the wrong part of the palace.”
“But, these are—” began Lord Dabendaben, but Lajot cut him off.
“There is one last thing. Are you aware of the border incursion by a Varmacian scout troop?”
That did surprise them somewhat. “These are indeed trying times, Your Majesty,” said the lord of Creaz. “We must tread carefully.”
“Indeed. I would very much like to keep my line on the throne— no other country can claim a dynasty as unbroken as mine. And, unfortunately, the events of the past year seem to indicate that I am in danger. I cannot afford to remain passive, and simply hope everything works out.”
“This still seems a rather drastic solution,” said Varabia. “Our neighbors are quite unhappy about your actions.”
Lajot nodded. “I know. King Baran canceled our summit as soon as he heard about my proclamation.” That was something that bothered Taréz to quite a degree: Didn’t it make sense that such a summit was all the more necessary, to keep communication going and thereby divert war? Undoubtedly the Varmacian king was now fuming.
The table was silent for a few minutes. Finally, the Queen asked, “Can we now have a conversation about something else?”
The King squeezed his wife’s arm. “Yes, my dear. Do you have a suggestion?”
“Oh, perhaps the next ball. It’s only a month away.”
“Great! Now I just hope I have the money to attend,” said Lord Lacigia dryly.
That caused a little bit more silence before the rest of the guests decided that a new topic was indeed needed.

The day after the hunt, Taréz sat in his chamber, deep in thought.

Is my father doing the right thing?

Is there a proper course of action?

Is my father doing the right thing?

Is there a proper course of action?

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"Gardric!"
Only a moment passed before the chief appeared in the doorway. “Sire?”
“We’re going to visit the camp.”
“Well, Sire, I don’t know if that’s necessary just yet—”
“Why not?”
“It isn’t finished.”
“Fine. I want to see how it’s coming.”
“Things are still quite rough. I don’t know if I can provide enough security...”
“You’ll do your best. Is there a place where I can observed without being observed?”
“Of course. My office there has some observation windows.”
“Very well. Call the coachmaster, and have him prepare one of our plainest coaches.”
“As you say, Sire.” He walked off, while the prince went into his bedroom and changed into his plainest hunting clothes.