Silver Tears
ARNET, CROWNLANDS, KINGDOM OF TRIEL
King Erlend Swalestrom felt like the unluckiest beast in the Southern Realms, which, of course, was no mere exaggeration.
He was usually calm and mild-mannered, slow to anger and rage. Before Raevsvakt, the last time he was truly livid was at Redwall, leading the Otterguard to victory for the last time. Now, he has lapsed into that same self-destructive fury thrice within a fortnight.
The first was when he found out that his younger son was held hostage by the Crestworths, thus causing him to personally retrieve his charge, like any model father would do. He might not prefer Thordan as compared to his other two children, but Lorelei's child was still his responsibility. Hence the rampage he went on Raevsvakt.
The second was when the other Thordan died at the worst possible moment. King Thordan of Parma considered making him King of Otharn (thus designated heir to for quite some time, and he had plans for his election while the Parman king was still alive. Needless to say, Thordan's death burned the Parman scheme to the ground, and the electors would not consider letting his young son on the throne. Lorelei, for all her faults, was still very much loyal to him, and he had already obtained the Garlescan throne by his marriage, despite his love towards another beast.
Which brings him to the third time he was angry. As far has his rages go, the first two times he was irked, the second time he was vexed, and now he was well and truly furious.
No one short of the poisoner deserved to die in such a manner. Sigrid had been administered a rare substance that does not even attempt to hide its symptoms. The unfortunate victim first emitted blood from the nose, then from the mouth, and finally from the ears and even eyes until there was not a single drop remaining the body. Who could have done this?
For the first time in what seemed like ages, King Erlend of Garlesca felt helpless.
And so he wept like a child. Exactly like his son Thordan when his grandfather died - and in a lot of other circumstances.
Sigurd would surely be devastated. His son was always close to his mother, and restraining him will be as hard as holding back the tears steadily flowing from his green eyes. He may be a strong child, a better warrior than his other son, but all beasts have their weaknesses, and tragedy hits beasts hard right in them. And what of Sigrun? His only daughter may hide her emotions and insecurities behind a straight face, but she too will be devastated.
Great Seasons, what is to happen now?
Before he had finished the question, the answer was there in his mind. And he did not like it
"She's absolutely adorable!"
Lord Lorcan Stalwart felt like the luckiest beast in the Southern Realms. Married to a beast who loves him and was loved back was a rare fortune for a lord, but Jehanne of Graille fitted into both of those categories. No lady would fit Lorcan better than the Valnainer. She had all the necessary virtues of a proper lady, and some of the unnecessary ones as well. Lorcan only knew of one such lady who was more important to him.
In his wife's arms lay an infant, no more than a month old. After nine months of waiting, Lorcan Stalwart was finally able to celebrate the birth of his first child.
Lady Lenorra was certainly a blessing on the Stalwarts. From hundreds of seasons of observations, it is known that beasts of exceptional height were infertile, so Lorcan and Alfyn Stalwart were not expected to have a lot of, if any children. The Stalwart twins were always close, despite their differences. Their father named the firstborn after a legendary warrior, and the younger son after a no less famous healer. The names could not have been more ironic. Without his brother's prodding, Lorcan would simply not have went to his daily training sessions, preferring to spend his time in libraries, his snout buried deep into books and tomes. Alfyn has all the necessary skills to be a soldier, as shown by his muscular physique, contrasted to his brother's lanky build.
During his childhood in Arnet, Thordan Swalestrom said that beasts could ask for no better leader than Alfyn Stalwart, and no better friend than Lorcan. Thordan left Arnet after Lorcan's wedding, then spent the five seasons after wandering between Vargo, Floret, and a certain Redwall Abbey in Mossflower, with his final destination being his insular lordship. Lorcan always wondered why the boy chose to stay in Mossflower for the last two seasons, before his father summoned him back. Maybe he could not stand the Southern heat. But then he would have stayed in Floret with his uncle Lord Becker, which Lord (and now King) Erlend has no desire for this to happen. Or maybe the ever-curious child was awed by Mossflower and everything in it, which was most likely.
His daughter began to cry again. This may be Jehanne's first trial as a mother, but so far she was not failing in her ever present duties. After much comforting, the babe was lulled into her slumber once more.
"She's not as large as you are," teased the Valnainer. Her family has provided a number of brides for the other realms, most notably the mother of the younger Swalestrom brothers. Though this was their first pact with a Trielian lord, the tall, handsome Lorcan Stalwart soon proved to be a dedicated husband, neglecting his duties as Lord of the Trielian Otterguard for his wife and daughter's sake - to the chagrin of his ever hardworking brother.
"At least she's not going to bump her head into every single doorway like I do!" Lorcan joked.
They had played with their child for half an hour when their was a knock on their door.
"Who's there?" shouted the lord, clearly not happy at being disturbed from his leisure.
"King Garmund has called for a council meeting, and you are to attend immediately."
Duke Altayras Burelas stood as the seats were tamed by different lords. The squirrel may be barely twenty seasons of age, but his trip to Meraholmer had left him precious battle experience, which he will hold truly until the end of his life.
His brother insisted on staying in Burelas after his slaying of the traitorous Lord Crestworth, and Altair did not blame him. Slaying a lord was quite an offence, and Canute Crestworth was one of the seven Electoral Princes of Parma, making the consequences of Denebas' act of desperation multiplied by myriad times.
The squirrel lord recalled the events on the insular castle. How did I not see Crestworth's attack coming? I need to stop falling for the most basic of traps from now on. Caution is key.
A familiar presenceappeared in front of Altayras. Erlend Swalestrom was definitely in a bad mood, not as calm and confident as when they met in the Raevsvakt armoury, but a swirl of anger and rage. Something bad must have happened to him.
A few lords hurried to Erlend, no doubt inquiring about his recent Garlean accession, before hardened glares from the otter prematurely silenced them.
Altayras turned around only to bump into a tall otter. "Lord Alfyn?"
The otter chuckled. "No. I am just his less famous brother," he joked self-deprecatingly. "You must be Lord Burelas. You fought bravely at Raevsvakt. King Erlend told me all about you!" He turned to face the beast that he just mentioned. "Do you know what has gotten into him?" he asked.
"I have no idea what happened. I only know that he is not in any good mood, and it would be very unwise to approach him at this moment."
"Unwise indeed!"
Lord Lorcan leaped in surprise at the sudden appearance of his twin. "Alfyn! Could you just stop startling me for once? Lord Burelas and I were having a discussion on a quite serious matter."
"A serious matter? Last time I checked, you were not the sort of beast to make remarks of higher-ranking nobles behind their backs. Maybe you should try approaching him and see what would happen."
"To put it plainly, that would be plainly suicidal. I would not throw away my life in that manner." Lorcan remarked.
"Yeah, yeah. 'We only have one candle of life to burn', or something you found in your books." Alfyn quibbed.
Before Lorcan Stalwart was able to provide a lengthy an unwanted analysis of Oriel the Southard and his plays, the trio's brief conversation was put to an end by the herald's booming voice which signalled the arrival of King Garmund. All the present lords quickly returned to their assigned seats, and bowed their heads at the sight of the King of Triel.
King Garmund was not a beast of emotions and words, believing that actions speak louder than either. A pinched scowl was eternally sculpted on his face, and the heavy crown and robes seemed to suit him well, just like all kings of mighty realms.
"Your Majesty." All other beasts, whether they were high-ranking mouse lords or militant squirrels and otters, chorused in unison. But the king clearly had much more important matters to deal with.
"I have summoned all of you here for one sole purpose. Lord Becker Swalestrom has tidings to bear from our sister kingdom." He spat the last two words with the utmost contempt, like speaking to a rebellious child.
The doors creaked open, and with it entered a smug otterlord clad in white. The colours of an emissary, and under the protection of all laws, Southard or Trielian, Altayras remembered.
"Greetings, Lord Swalestrom. You must be exhausted, travelling from the northeast for such great a distance. Southsward is a kingdom most populous, and her diplomats are numerous and filled with talents. So tell me, what brings you, of all the beasts of our fellow realm, to Arnet?"
"I have come instead of Lord Harmon because of a reason common to all realms, large and small. The better, more trained diplomats are sent to the dignified and respectable states, and the tactless and incompetent are sent to states doomed to perish."
He pointed at the Garlean king and continued. "As my brother, the King of Garlesca might tell you, there is no single beast more bumbling and graceless than me. Even a vermin would be a better choice for a delegate. This is why King Gideon sends me here, of all the beasts of your fellow realm."
The council chamber erupted into a clamour. The mice lords turned to each other and discussed in shock, unable to comprehend that the weaker kingdom's envoy humiliated their kingdom in the most open of manners. The Stalwarts sat wide-eyed, and Altayras was simply confused by the entire thing. Only both kings remained impassive, their glares betraying not even a shred of emotion.
"Anyways, I am here to ask a simple question. Your Majesty, with your infinite wisdom, only need answer this inquiry."
The chamber died down rapidly, so much so that even snowfall could be heard.
"If the Kingdom of Southsward plans to reassert its full and independent rule over its own territories, with no need for further Trielian guidance, would you allow for the aforementioned events to ensue without starting a war?"
The King of Triel made a gesture in the air, and Erlend Swalestrom responded to the question not as a king, but as Duke of Thavnair, and thus a vassal of the Trielian King.
"As stated in the Peace of Uznair signed sixty seasons ago, the Realm of Southsward will remain as a subject to the Kingdom of Triel. For. All. Perpetuity. If the unthinkable event, which is what you have described previously, does happen, King Garmund will affirm to his duty as king and overlord, and defend his rights, which your king's ancestors have personally granted to him. And if he makes war upon those who unjustly rebel against him, then we are obligated follow his every command- and follow him we will!"
The tense silence between the Swalestrom brothers continued, only marred by the blurred whispers of puzzled lords.
Lord Becker opened his mouth to speak once again. "It shall appear that the unthinkable in which I have previously described is less unthinkable than Your Grace would perceive." His voice suddenly got even bolder, and, in the eyes of the Trielians, prouder. "As royal emissary of King Gideon of Southsward, I declare to Your Highness Garmund III, King of Triel and former overlord of Southsward, that Southsward is once again an independent nation, made so by the will of her king and subjects both."
King Garmund took a deep breath, then gave his answer. "As royal emissary of Southsward, it is your duty to inform your acting sovereign that it will be my duty to command him to submit to Triel, and obey the Peace of Uznair to prevent a war!"
Lord Becker gave a wry smile, as if he was prepared for that.
"And it would be mine to transmit my only and true king's refusal to stand by your unjust and incredible conditions."
"Then war it is." King Garmund stated the obvious, and the council room was plunged into chaos as Lord Becker exited the chamber with a flowing turn. Altayras would always remember Duke Erlend running out of the doorway as well, chasing after his wayward brother.
Less than a minute has passed before Erlend caught up to his brother, slamming his body against a castle wall.
"You were behind all of this! Sigrid's dead all thanks to you! My children will be left without a mother, and it's all your fault!" Erlend fumed.
"Sigrid's dead?" Becker looked surprised.
"Do not pretend that you know nothing! You had a paw in her death! I know full well!" If Erlend was furious earlier that day, he was absolutely incensed now. Tears dropped freely from his eyes as he raged incoherently as his brother.
"Erlend, calm down!" Becker implored. "I swear solemnly on the lives of my three sons that I am not responsible for the death of your lover." Nobles were nothing without their honour, and breaking an oath would not be something they would do. This applies to the elder Swalestrom brother as well, as his pride would not be able the indignity of breaking an oath.
Erlend took a moment to compose himself, only speaking a few seconds later. "Know full well that I will do everything and anything for my liege, as you will have done the same for yours."
For the first time in two seasons, Becker was called to agree with his brother. "No hard feelings. Got it. May the Fates guide you to the one you loved so much."
Erlend smiled after much difficulty. "Well, if I do indeed die in the war that you start, you won't have to share the world with me, won't you?"
As the two brothers met and laughed as true brothers for the last time in their lives, Erlend could have sworn that a single tear had flowed from Becker's hazel eye.
A/N: Longest non-prologue chapter yet! This is my first time writing (or trying to write) some heavy emotions. First rage and sorrow with Erlend, then joy with Lorcan, and followed by suspense with Altayras, and looping back to Erlend's sadness. Losing a beast that you has considered to be family, followed by having his relationship with your actual family completely destroyed; with reconciliation being so close, but yet so far? That is something that I would not want to wish on my worst enemy! Oh, and the Trielo-Southard War has begun for less than 200 seconds! What horrors could it bring to the Swalestroms?
I will upload chapter summaries starting from this week on the Redwall Forums!
Chapter 4 (Fealty) will be out on 8/9 May!
P.S. The rules of diplomacy have not been fully developed yet, so a declaration of independence is not tantamount to a declaration of war. For now, at least.
P.P.S. Anyone here has siblings?