Chapter 52: Ghosts and Alliances
Nathaniel Glass was pleased.
He had been having the king watched, his agents seeing how their lord spent his free time. They could not spy on him openly of course, the royal guard would not allow that, but…within the halls of the Palace of Orzammar, they could move somewhat freer.
The Arl of Denerim smiled.
Tonight, he had received good news.
Word that Bea had gone to the king's chamber had reached him a few moments after she had gone inside. Little else was known since the king had not sent for any servants since his daughter's arrival.
He had sat up, waiting to hear from his man on patrol, to hear what else the man had observed.
A half hour later, the man came to him.
The Arl bid him to make his report.
Neither Bea nor the king had left the king's quarters, but…there was something that the man had heard.
Arl Nathaniel bade the man continue.
"Moaning, My Lord," he said, "and um…um…"
The Arl frowned.
"Yes?"
"Milord?"
"Speak freely soldier," he said, "What else do you hear?"
The man swallowed.
"Other sounds, ser," the man stammered, "Sounds…of… of… lovemaking."
Nathaniel Glass nodded.
"That will be all for tonight," he told his agent, "return to your post."
He pressed a few gold coins into the young man's hand. The guard turned without further comment.
The Arl leaned back in his chair.
He was most pleased.
It had taken his daughter some time, but finally she had made her move. The king was even now taking her as his consort, perhaps even his official mistress…
His smile widened.
…and why should she stop there?
His mind filled with many honeyed thoughts, future rewards that would likely be his. After years of living on the cusp of being noble and commoner, his family had finally arrived. He barely remembered his life before, back when his older brother had betrayed Queen Moira. Back when he was the brother to Bann Keir.
He had lost that life; he may have died had they stayed. His sister had saved him, her and her husband, the true Ser Glass. They had spent so many years after running, remaining on the fringes of noble life, fearing that some Maric-supporter might take revenge for something he had had no hand in doing.
The late Teyrn Loghain had often tried to have him tried for this wrong or that. Fortunately, King Cailan and Queen Anora had had a more…liberal view. He had been useful to them, so he had been allowed to continue his work, to try and give his children the lives they deserved.
He had been a child when Queen Moira had died, but few would have cared how old he had been. He was still the brother of Bann Keir.
He was still the brother of a traitor.
Nathaniel shook his head.
Through his children, he at long last had shed that stigma. He was now Arl of Denerim, a title he intended to pass on. Quentin had married Wulfe's niece, their children would be heirs to West Hill. Bea was now the king's woman, perhaps a contender to become his Queen…
If that happened, if Bea gave the king children, the name of Glass would be remembered forever, it would be carved on the stone of Ferelden itself. It would be…
There was a knock at the door.
The Arl frowned.
Who could possibly still be up at this hour, he had told his agents that he was retiring.
"Yes?" he called out.
"It is Wilbur Rich, Your Grace," he heard from the other side of the door, "May I come in?"
The Arl frowned.
"What would the king's secretary want now? He could have refused of course, but what if the man had come on the king's business, perhaps something he had forgotten to mention earlier.
Glass sighed.
"Enter," he said.
The door opened, the guard admitted the oily man. His ever present ledger gripped in his hand like his life depended on it.
Rich smiled at the Arl.
"I am pleased to see you are still awake, Your Grace," he purred, "There are matters we should discuss."
Arl Glass rose from his chair and poured himself a drink. The wine was imported from Orlais; he was pleased that Bhelen had thought to include some of the finer things for his guest's enjoyment.
"Such as, Mister Secretary?" he inquired.
Rich's smile widened.
"The future, Your Grace," he said with a slight bow, "The happiness of our King…"
His eyes twinkled with mischief.
"And your daughter…the Queen." He added.
Arl Nathaniel paused.
"What makes you think my daughter will be queen?" he inquired.
Rich chuckled.
"You're not the only one watching the king," he reminded him, "The king has wanted your daughter for some time, now he is having her…"
Rich smirked.
"Most fathers would not approve, a man having his way with his daughter?"
Glass shrugged.
"It is a part of noble life. I want what is best for my family. If Bea pleasing the king is part of that, so be it."
The secretary shook his head.
"If only it was that simple, Your Grace," he said, "Word of this will reach the king's allies, and enemies soon enough, those with designs on the future of Ferelden will no doubt try to take advantage of this."
Glass frowned.
"Those like yourself?" he said.
Rich shrugged.
"I support your daughter, Your Grace, and I am not alone. Bridget Glass is exactly what Ferelden needs. The Couslands understand that. The Circle understands that, and when her work in the Blightlands succeeds. The people will understand that too."
The man sighed.
"But we are not without enemies, people who would see the king fail, or their own agendas advanced. Some on the court claim loyalty to the king, but only wish to control him, to rule through him as their puppet."
The Secretary's smile returned.
"You know of who I speak."
Glass did not answer. He had heard the rumors, even if he had no part in them himself.
"How do I know this is not some kind of test? Perhaps the king or the chancellor put you up to this."
Again, Rich chuckled.
"Life is a test, Your Grace," he reminded him, "You are either succeed and live, or fail and…well….death is not the only punishment failure can bring."
The Secretary sighed.
"I'm not here on behalf of the king or the chancellor. I can promise you that much. However…I do wish you to know that I'm watching you, you and the chancellor both. I happen to believe in your daughter."
He gave the Arl a shark-like smile.
"You can either profit from my belief, or you can be cast aside, it is your choice, of course, but I would advise you not to underestimate me, there is nothing I would not do for king and country."
Glass' brow furrowed.
"What is it you want Mister Rich," he asked, "You refuse land and title. You compliment my family in the same breath that you threaten me."
"Oh…I did not threaten, I merely made a promise."
"That does not answer my question, Mister Secretary."
Rich smirked at him.
"No…it doesn't," he agreed."
Rich lightly tapped his fingers on the cover of his ledger, perhaps trying to decide what he would say next, how best to explain his presence here, or perhaps to think of a better lie.
He paused for a moment, and then another, and then another.
Finally, he gave the Arl a pleasant smile.
Only then did he answer him.
"I could give you dozens of stock answers, Your Grace," he said, "I could tell you anything in regard to my motivations. I think I will try the truth today, or at least a version of it. Perhaps…in the end…I do what I do to please those who are no longer with us. Attempting to meet impossible standards I was expected to meet long ago…"
Rich sighed.
"I don't suppose you have ever heard of my Grandfather, Ser Alfred Rich?"
"I can't say that I have," the Arl replied.
"Not surprising, he was a knight at a time when knights of Ferelden were being hunted simply because they were knights of Ferelden. When he died, my father Thaddeus Rich tried and failed to live up to the man's memory, or at least the memory he had of him. It was an impossible chore. When I was born, I was expected to live up to the same high standard; it was again nothing that I could meet."
A sad laugh escaped Rich's throat, a croak that led to almost a coughing fit, the result of his damaged throat.
Yet, he still somehow managed to regain control; he smiled at the Arl again.
"We all have our ghosts, Your Grace. His Majesty is haunted by his father and older brother. I'm haunted by my father and grandfather. You…"
Rich smirked at him.
"You have your own ghosts, don't you?"
Glass said nothing; his history was fairly common knowledge, with the older nobles at least.
Rich had not mentioned Bann Keir, but it was impossible to imagine that the man did not know of him. Rich had too many sources to deny him of that knowledge.
"In the end," the secretary said, "My own wants don't really matter, it is the king that I serve, if I can profit from his rise then so be it. I'm not above turning the good of Ferelden to my advantage. I suspect that you are not either."
Arl Glass again said nothing.
"I feel that your daughter is good for the king, and I also believe that she is the best for Ferelden. I will do my best to shield her from her enemies, and when the opportunity arises, I will see them eliminated. The chancellor would have preferred a simply noble girl that would sit politely off to the side with no interest in politics, a girl that would simply try and supply the king with heirs and keep her mouth shut. We both know that Bea is not such a girl. She might not like politics, but she still understands them."
"She is my daughter," Arl Glass said with a small amount of pride.
"Which is why we are having this conversation," Rich added, "We both know that the Chancellor is trying to make the king into exactly what he thinks the king should be. If King Alistair does decide to marry your daughter, Eamon will no doubt try to control her; he has already begun by bringing his wife into the mix."
Glass nodded, he knew about Lady Isolde's tutoring. Bea held her tongue because it was expected, but she suspected that she did not like the woman any more than anyone else at court did.
"We do not need Alistair to be the Chancellor's perfect king. We need King Alistair to be King Alistair. Your daughter will help him remain true to himself, she won't let him compromise, and is brave enough to tell him when he is about to go astray."
Rich paused again.
"Speaking of which," he added, "My agents have learned that Anora MacTir is attempting to set up an audience with your daughter. We should look into this at the earliest convenience."
Glass frowned and nodded.
It would have been better had Alistair had the woman executed months ago. It would have angered her supporters, but…
Rich, likely sensing what he was thinking, cut him off.
"Alistair was wise not to execute her, Your Grace," he said, "Dead she would have been a martyr. There is still a chance she will bend the knee to our king. An accepting Anora is far more useful than a dead one that her father's cronies can hold up as an example, as a reason why the king should be removed."
The Arl nodded, the man had a point, it was risky, but all life was.
"I have been aware of a conspiracy against the king since before I came to Denerim," Rich informed him, "I believe they now target your daughter as well. The attempt on her life outside of Highever was only the first shot. When they learn that the king has taken her to his bed, there will be others."
The secretary sighed.
"I will do what I can to protect her," he said, "I only ask that you stay out of my way, that you endeavor to keep the chancellor out of my way. Do that and I will do everything in my power to make sure your family gets everything you believe it deserves."
Arl Glass considered his offer. He knew that Eamon plotted the man's downfall. If it was not for the chancellor however, they would never have come this far.
Glass pursed his lips.
In Orlais, he knew, alliances needed to be kept fluid. Ferelden liked to think that it was beyond the grand game, but even here, the elements of it remained. Fereldans simply did not make it seem like recreation.
The secretary had allied himself with his daughter, which should have been enough. Glass was smart enough however to realize that the confrontation between the Chancellor and the Secretary was still coming…
If he played it right, he could stay just enough off to the side to profit from whoever won. It would be a dangerous game, but he had played for such stakes before.
He simply needed to be cautious.
The Arl bowed his head.
"I will stay out of your way," he promised, "For my daughter's sake."
"Excellent," Rich purred, "It pleases me to see that you are as smart and pragmatic as Lady Bridget. Good night, Your Grace."
"Mister Secretary," he said with a nod.
Rich turned to leave.
"Oh, one more thing," he said smiling.
Glass gave him an arched look.
Rich almost laughed.
"I received word from one of my contacts in your estate. Your daughter in law Jayne is with child. I'm sure you would have heard about it tomorrow or the next day, but I thought you could use some more happy news."
Glass was torn between cheering and being concerned, it was happy news to be sure, but…
"You have agents in my estate?"
"I have many agents in Denerim now, Your Grace," he answered, "I'm a good ally to have, and a dangerous enemy when provoked, I hope you can see that.
Glass swallowed hard.
Yes, he could.
"Goodnight, Your Grace," Rich repeated, closing the door.
"Pleasant dreams."
