"Why would we help Gelynian rebels, we have an alliance with their king, and despite his horrid temper, I really have no intention of throwing away our trade agreement if Lord Periven's men can't win their revolution. We don't have the men to sacrifice," Jaron was always firm in his choices, Roden really hated that about him.
In retrospect, Roden likely should have discussed this matter with Jaron in a much more secluded location; all of the regents had turned to stare down young Captain Harlowe. The regency room wasn't very big what with the large oval table in the center of the room. Windows to the outside city of Drylliad lined the left side, tapestries of Carthya's oldest king's lined the other three bare walls. Surely the tapestries were more interesting than Roden, they should've stared at those instead.
Roden stiffened his jaw, determined to fight for his losing argument despite the blatant fact that Jaron had a much better point than Roden had prepared for. He couldn't focus with all of the regents' eyes on him, especially his father's. There was nothing Roden hated more than even the smallest chance of disappointing his father.
"Lord Periven has the men to fight, he lacks leaders," Roden said, his palms growing sweaty. The windows seemed to magnify the afternoon heat of the sun, ironic considering how late in the year it was. "We could send a few other captains without broadcasting it to the other kingdoms around us. If Periven's forces win, we could gain a better trade agreement. He also didn't declare war on us like King Edward did."
King Edward, the ruthless leader of Gelyn was always finding fights to pick. Carthya was lucky Edward had instead chosen to attack the weakened Avenia and Mendenwal. He'd gained the port city of Isel, though word from the front confirmed that he wasn't making many gains in Mendenwal.
Carthya's tardiness to assist Mendenwal and Avenia had caused controversy throughout the kingdom, especially since Roden was scheduled to marry Mendenwali Duchess Viola Statos. Jaron, Mott, and even Tobias had no trouble informing Roden that maybe she wasn't the best choice for a bride at the moment. Roden's argument was always something about taking their opinions and shoving it up their arses. Jaron often took that as an invitation to wrestle Roden to the ground, Tobias often joined in.
All three boys had grown into men, and each one considered the other a brother. Tobias was always there to patch up Roden, Roden was always there when Jaron decided he wanted to chase down thieves, and Jaron was a constant pest to all. However, he'd grown much more fond of spending time with his eleven month old son than with wrestling with his closest friends, Tobias had always put his tiny family above all else as well.
Silas of Bultain was born noticeably shortly after Amarinda and Tobias were wed, of course, Jaron and Roden knew what had really happened. One night of irresponsible passion during the Great War had called for an emergency wedding. Silas was six, their daughter Emily was two years old. Both were spoiled to a point and yet still managed to be as kind and considerate as their mother and father. Emily had a way of winning over even the hardest of hearts with her gappy smile and random items she considered to be gifts.
However, Arran Darius Eckbert IV was much harder to bring to the world than Silas had been. Imogen and Jaron had married nearly a year after the war, Imogen suffered through a long labor that resulted in a stillborn son several years after the marriage. While she was pregnant with Arran, Jaron had spent much of his afternoons performing his odd prayers to the saints promising he'd never be rotten again if Imogen and the baby survived. Arran was slightly early, but healthy, as was Imogen. Jaron had yet to stop his bothersome practices.
On the other hand, Roden devoted much more time to chasing any pretty girl that caught his eye. He found it much more fun trying to convince a girl to love him rather than actually forming any feelings on his own. When Viola Statos came to Dryllias castle, he was smitten. Chasing Viola had been one of the most invigorating experiences of his life.
When she first asked him to meet with her, alone mind you, she'd greeted him in nothing but her skimpy undergarments. In turn, there was much kissing that came after that. Perhaps what made Viola so alluring was her constant desire to keep herself just out of Roden's reach. He was overjoyed when she agreed to marry him.
He was one step closer to having his own small family.
"Or we could send a few of our soldiers and an expendable general," Regent Olga Andorse suggested. She was new, and fairly annoying. Her father had held the position, Jaron had yet to find someone to replace her with.
"Or you can do what your king tells you to and not send anyone at all. What a strange thought," Jaron interjected fiercely. "This meeting has gone nowhere but in circles. It's decided, we will not send aid to Lord Periven's forces until we are given proof that their cause is just, and not some peasant revolt."
If there was something Roden hated nearly as much as disappointing his father, it was losing in an argument, especially losing in front of people. The meeting was adjourned. Jaron left first, flanked by Harlowe and Tobias. Everyone present remained standing until the king had left, finally dispersing at their own time. Roden didn't want to talk to anybody, he only wanted to catch fresh air and cool off his fiery temper.
Roden's quarters were at the top floor of Drylliad castle, it was so much more than his meager blanket he'd had in the orphanage. Everything he'd had to himself had been usually taken from him by the other orphan boys. Then one day he seemed to have grown six inches, nobody picked on him after than. However, Roden had also decided he was too tall for his blanket, and had given away his one possession to his only other friend in the orphanage, Latamer, the boy who'd been shot with an arrow before his eyes. Now Roden had plenty of things, though his favorite item was a long blue coat that was currently hanging on a clothesline as it dried.
Instead of his coat, Roden quickly had taken a blue and gold cloak from his chamber. He needed something to keep him warm as he wandered through Drylliad.
Autumn breezes cut through the air like a knife in most cases; in Carthya, it was much more pleasant. In later months, the wind was often carrying scents of spiced drinks and pastries simmering in stone ovens. Drylliad was bustling with merchants hawking about their wares in a vain attempt to sell their status quo before evening. How they managed not to freeze, Roden didn't know.
When the air was as cold as it was, it really made Roden long for the nice warm beach that was territory to the pirates. Normally, Roden's face was fairly tanned, though now he was sure his nose was dripping and his cheeks chapped and red. He clutched his cloak more tightly about him, and despite appearing to be a walking maypole, winked at several serving maids who giggled in return. However, he was devoted to something more than stealing a kiss from a nameless girl or two.
Many of the people he passed waved at him. Several women called him by name, most of whom were likely to be veterans of the battle for Drylliad. He always waved back despite his frozen solid hands. A woman handing steaming tankards of something gave him a cup of what appeared to be steaming cider, claiming it was on the house. He muttered thanks regretting that he couldn't stay longer. Drylliad had welcomed her captain of the guard with warm enthusiasm. The people trusted Roden, he'd helped lead them to victory. Because they trusted him, they trusted Viola. Well, most of them trusted Viola.
The busiest part of the market was always the square. The luxurious shops were there, and it was much more crammed with both servants and customers. Nearly every noble in the city was attempting to buy last minute goods before the night's festivities. Loaves of pumpkin bread were purchased, new blankets, as well as bottles upon bottles of spiced cordials. Normally the harvest festivals weren't held in much regard, but tonight's occasion was beyond special. For the first time in a very long time, stars were supposed to leave their positions and fly across the sky. Roden would never admit out loud that he was excited for the night of riding stars.
Pushing through a bustling crowd was a talent that came with years and years of practice. Roden didn't make eye contact with anyone as he continued walking through the market square. He set his jaw, so nobody bothered to speak to him. There were some hidden perks to towering over everyone and appearing to be extremely intimidating.
After many shoves, Roden finally burst onto the street he was so intent to find, Wiccan's Way. Thank the saints hardly a soul even ever went down this road. Wiccan's way comprised of mostly shops boasting witches who could tell futures and heal rare diseases, but only if one purchased their expensive package of herbs. Many melting candles lit the way as they burned from their places in the street or in glass sconces.
The average passerby only went through Wiccan's way if they were in dire need of at home medicines. Roden couldn't blame anybody for their uneasiness about the place. He was a seasoned war commander, and he still tried to avoid the strange little man who always tried to sell him little cloth dolls. While Roden wasn't as religious as many people wanted him to be, he knew there were some crafts that were sure to invite devils and all sorts of things.
The tiny shop Roden wanted to find was at the end of Wiccan's way. His excuse for showing up inside so often was always needing to get something for Tobias and his medical practices. By now the store owner likely knew that was a lie. She never said anything about it. Rose, the owner, knew a lot of things. Once, Viola had convinced Roden to allow the stout little woman to read his palm. She'd told him his life would be happy, but difficult and that he was struggling with the demons of his past. Roden had told her he didn't believe in demons of the past and that palm reading wasn't real. Rose told him that she didn't care what he thought, but if he wanted to continue meeting Viola in her shop, he'd better change his attitude.
At the moment, it seemed that Viola wasn't there. Finding her was a rare ordeal, more often than naught she found you. Rose was sweeping away at the dust collecting on her floors, several strands of roots spilling from the pockets of her plain apron.
"Afternoon, ma'am," Roden said politely, offering a sly half smile.
Rose waved her hand at her, and shoved the broom in his general direction. "Ye been stood up, best get to making yerself useful. I've got other things ta be worryin' about."
"Penny for your thoughts, darling?" He began sweeping the floor with a contained fury, dust flurried everywhere. Rose hated the way he swept, though usually she allowed Roden to continue with his terrible sweeping habit, but not today. Rose snatched the broom from his hands, and began sweeping her own way.
Rose only shrugged, "Ye been nice ta me, I'll miss ye when ye stop coming ta visit."
Being referred to as 'nice' happened once in a blue moon. Roden finally stopped standing aimlessly in the small shop. He took a seat atop a barrel of something likely to be disturbing. He could at least stay out of the way as Rose continued with her quest to sweep away any speck of dirt from her floors, "I'll visit you, I promise."
"Ye only come for your redheaded vixen," Rose shook her head, sweeping still. "Don't let yer head wind up in tangles, promise me that."
Roden mustered a smirk, rubbing his sweaty palms on his dark trousers, "I promise I'll keep my head on straight."
The small brass bell above the door rang; somebody walker in. Roden turned his head, his heart soaring as his lady love strolled in unaccompanied. Viola always dressed in splendor. She'd always been proud of her birthright, and she had good reason too. That Statos family was rich and well known.
"My lady," Roden said with a grin, bowing deeply as Viola gracefully pivoted dipped her head. It seemed each time he saw her, he was taken aback by her beauty. Her eyes were a piercing shade of copper, and her hair as vibrant as fire. He'd taken a liking to the nervous way her eyes flicked about, Roden perceived that as a sign of preparedness. Viola took great care in hiding the faint shadows beneath her metal colored eyes, she valued her work over her sleep. Roden took Viola's perfect hand, and pressed a kiss to her skin.
"Captain," Viola flashed a painted smile as she fluidly slipped her hand out of Roden's grip. His untainted adoration for her was sweet, and passionate when she wanted it to be. "I see you've managed to find me once again."
Amidst the background, Rose grumbled something about 'young love' and 'bad omens'. The superstitious old woman never hesitated to share her opinions. Rose took her broom, announcing that she had to count the various bundles of herbs she kept in the back. The old woman stomped into the back room of her shop. Viola stared at her until she was gone.
"How much do you love me? I need to know if I can trust you," Viola hissed.
He was much too beguiled to be his normally skeptical self. The bright candlelight of the medicine shop reflected off of the gemstones in Viola's expensive dress. She shied away as he moved to touch her shoulder. Viola was very particular about physical touch, Roden was not. He respected her, "You're a part of me, Viola. I can't bear the thought of being without you, I would do anything for-"
She waved him off, "You truly would? You'd do anything for me?"
His lust for Viola Statos had already begun to blind him, as Rose had warned only moments before. A small voice in the back of his head warned him; Roden was treading dangerous ground. Roden blocked out the thought being careful around Viola. She'd told him she liked a man who took risks. Roden had no idea how dangerous the risk he was taking as he nodded his head.
"I have but a few things to ask of you, my love," She smiled, strategically placing a hand upon Roden's face.
Ever so slightly he turned his head, his lips pressing into the soft skin of her palm. After the war, the thought of anyone laying a hand on him had often times made him sick to his stomach, but as the years past, he'd grown to crave it. Roden decided he'd do anything just for another simple touch. He waited for her to go on.
Viola stepped closer, Roden could see the black sticky mixture she put on her eyelashes to make them appear to be longer, "It's always been a dream of mine to be reunited with my family. Is there any way you could somehow manage to get them through Half-Moon pass? Gelynian rebels have them held under siege, I fear they may not live long."
It had taken several weeks of courting her to discover the mysterious background her family came from. Viola's family consisted of two brothers, she, and her father. Viola had been born from wedlock, as had one of her brothers from another woman. Her father's wife had passed away; he'd taken his two sons and his two mistresses far away from Mendenwal, his wife had likely been assassinated, the Statos family were almost always political targets. Roden didn't hesitate as he agreed to assist her, "I promise I will do my best to help them."
"And this is why I adore you," Viola smiled, removing her hand from the curve of his face. She stepped back, "Will you see me tonight? Privately? I would stay longer, but unfortunately there are things I must discuss with a few regents."
And without waiting for an answer, Viola slipped out of Rose's shop.
The Harvest Festival was the last night before the dreaded Blood Moon, as the locals called it. Many servants began placing herbal charms wherever they could to ward off imaginary spirits on the day of the festival, however this festival was more momentous than any other fall festival. For the first time in many years, the stars were supposedly going to fly from their positions for a night of uncertainty. Either a great evil or a wonderful good was expected to occur after such a night. The stars rarely ever did anything unless they felt like something important was about to happen.
Roden had returned to the castle early, he wished he hadn't. All about skittered anxious servants with various tasks to complete. As he saw the preparation that went into the decor for the regents at court, he was grateful he'd chosen instead to spend the evening with those closest to him. Often he had to dodge tiny maids carrying pumpkins as big as they.
"Harlowe!" Called out an accented voice. Roden spun on his heels, still getting used to the last name despite having had it for several years.
Roden grinned, calling out in greeting, "Bailiff!"
Willem Bailiff had come to the castle ages ago with his two sisters, he'd claimed he'd came from Gelyn looking for work. His accent supported his origins, his sandy brown hair matched that of one of his sisters, Willem's constellation freckles matched those of his other sister. There really was no set title for Willie, he was far too good for serving work but not nearly refined enough to be of much help in the court. He was just.. There. There in the castle, mumbling obscenities in his mother tongue while he did his best to humiliate any nobleman who came to the kitchens looking for a distraction. Willie got along well with Fink, Roden found Willie to be an ample hunting partner. He was amazing with a crossbow.
"Aye, seems to me that you might need a drink," Willie grinned, lugging a bright orange pumpkin in his arms. Willie was difficult to understand at times, his words sounded more like 'Aye! Sems ta meyemaitneedadrink', no wonder he managed to get away with such rude words in the castle. "Is your lady troubling you?"
Roden held out his hands to take the pumpkin from Willie, in turn Willie took another large gourd from a passing maid, who scurried off to do something else. He led the way to the grand hall, listening as Roden claimed Viola was not the source of his problems. He was just fine.
"Have you got plans this evening?" Roden asked, carefully setting his pumpkin near a carefully placed cornucopia. Everything about the marble grand hall had changed into warm autumn decorations.
Willie shook his head, wiping his hands on his breeches despite their cleanliness, "Sort of, my sisters and I will likely be waiting hand and foot this evening. Why?"
Roden shrugged as he took in the grand hall. Willie was already fleeing, obviously busy with making the hall as perfect as he could. "I won't be with the court tonight, I was wondering if you would spend the evening with my family. You could bring your sisters, if you like, though I've never met them."
"Generous offer," Willie nodded. A large cheaply dressed woman stopped him, gave him a heavy garland of yellowing leaves, and ordered him to take it upstairs to the queen's lounge. Roden followed. "Perhaps I'll come, not telling what'll happen, I'll ask my sisters, they'll say yes of course. My younger sister's sweet on you, all girls are sweet on you. How do you do it?"
Willie told him he didn't actually care as soon as Roden opened his mouth to protest. Willie changed the subject, "Rumor has it you support helping the Gelynian insurgents."
"I do, I'm sorry I never asked if you did too."
"My da's fighting against the king, so yes," Willie nearly tripped on the steps up to the queen's lounge. "Yes, I think helping Gelyn is in Carthya's best interests.'
It was considerably less crowded as they neared the lounge, Imogen had decided she didn't want to expose Arran to the heavy drinking of court festivals, Amarinda had been ecstatic at the idea. Roden would be joining them in the lounge after 12 year old Nila would leave with her governess, hopefully Willie would be joining. Viola likely would avoid the lounge and stay with the court, she didn't like being around children for very long.
Roden pushed the large door open to the queen's lounge after they'd walked up several more flights of stairs. He walked into the room after Willie. A few maids carefully picked at the decorations in the room, Arran and Silas played in the corner with a wooden spoon.
Willie took the leaf garland to a maid with her head covered in a white cap. Together they began to arrange the leaves, Imogen glided from across the room to assist them. Her bond with the castle staff was like anything seen before. The maid mumbled something; Imogen turned her head, finally catching a glimpse of Roden. She smiled and waved him over to help with the garland.
"Could you and Willie please hang this from the top of the window?" Imogen asked, her tea brown eyes warm as ever.
"Glad my services as a giant may be put to good use," Roden teased. Taking one side of the garland, he and Willie managed to get it slung into place.
The maid sat on the floor, peering up at her brother. She was young, and fairly skinny. Roden thought that if he sneezed hard enough, she would blow away. Willie introduced the young lady as his youngest sister Lucy, she sneezed as she tried to properly greet Roden from her place on the floor.
"Captain, a word," Imogen said softly, she'd crept up behind Roden. Several more maids shuffled in, Roden recognized a few as some of the companions Viola liked to take with her as she explored the castle. Their chatter filled up the rather small room.
He didn't need to be told twice, Imogen made a show of inspecting a large vase spilling over with leaves and gourds. Roden clasped his hands behind his back, awaiting Imogen's seemingly urgent message. Arran caught sight of his mother and began to waddle towards her. He was swept up into Lucy's bird bone arms.
Imogen peered over her shoulder for a moment, "I know you've appealed to the regents to help Gelyn with their revolution-"
Roden protested instantly. Many people within the court disagreed with Roden's support for the Gelynian insurgents, after all, he'd fought Gelynian's armies during the siege of Halfmoon Pass. His support was strange as those soldiers had killed many of his fellow soldiers. Roden justified his support in he was fighting against Gelyn's king, disposing of King Edward would bring about a change in Gelyn. Imogen held up a hand to silence him.
"I think it is risky," Imogen began to wring her hands, her eyes wandering to her darling little boy. "But I support your notion to an extent. If you can't get support of the regents, I will use everything in my power to dispatch a company of men to assist so long as no one finds out. But..."
"But what?" Roden asked, fully engaged in the concept of traveling to the north. A sick part of him craved battle. Rarely ever did that desire fade away.
"There are things that must be taken care of here in Drylliad before we can go off to battle again. It's nearly the Blood Moon, and you know just how high crime grows during this time, you're also getting married," She began to clench the rich fabric of her simple gown. "Leaving for Gelyn will take time, you must put as much thought into your actions as possible."
He wrinkled his nose, "I always put thought into my actions."
Imogen lithely turned away from the vase, holding her arms out as she approached Lucy. The young maid was struggling to contain the mischievous prince. "Hello Arran!" Imogen explained, signalling that her conversation with Roden was finished.
To the best of his ability, Roden had avoided entertaining any thoughts about what was going on in the cover of the Blood Woods to the north of Drylliad. There had always been ghost stories about the pagans within having animal heads and eating babies in a stew, but he'd never believed it. Any fear of the dark unknown had left Roden when he was a young boy.
Roden pushed aside thoughts of unholy acts, and pushed his way into the crowd of decorating maids, helping where he could. He would do all in his power to keep the castle safe, no matter what the cost amounted to.
But for now, he could afford to enjoy himself.