Weight of His Will
RAEVSVAKT, LORDSHIP OF MERAHOLMER, DRAVANIA
In contrast to Becker's children being so certain about their triumph, the other Swalestroms of the next generation were wavering.
"So Mother's dead, Triel and Southsward are at war, and Parma is without a king." Sigrun Swalestrom gave the briefest of analyses on the current situation. Being also a quiet, pensive otter, Sigrun resembles her father the most out of his three children.
"Father's in Obring as of three days before. He's going to be made Garlean King alongside your mother, and hurry back to Triel to meet Southard forces." Sigurd was not a 'quiet, pensive otter' like his sister and father, having seen fit to be loud and boisterous. Out of the seven Swalestrom cousins, he was the first to be born. Erlend and Sigrid more a set of twins, and he clearly favoured them over his youngest son. Not that he minded.
Though his parents never married, Sigurd was recognised as his father's successor in full disregard with Southard law, but in complete accordance with Dravain custom, which only requires recognition compared to legitimacy. Thavnair, however will pass to his younger, legitimate son, having been given to her husband by Queen Lorelei. Garlesca was gained by marriage, so Lorelei's son by Corrado Truetide, another Corrado, will inherit the title.
"Everything just seems so complicated right now." Thordan complained. "It just seems like the world is trying to mess Father's plans up." Despite first meeting only when they were at the ages of thirteen and ten seasons respectively, Thordan had a good relationship with his paternal half-siblings, and thought of them just as well as Lorcan and Alfyn Stalwart, the two otters he was raised with for most of his childhood. The fact that Sigurd was wed to their sister Avelyn, who remained in Arnet, bound these two families further - an alliance that was clearly expected to last.
"As I recall, Sigurd and I will try to take Hildrinn from Becker, establishing a base of operations. The locals will surely welcome him. Thordan, what task has father left for you?" Sigrun said as her brothers paced around the room. Can they just keep calm for a moment? The situation cannot get any worse, and panicking would only exacerbate it!
"Father never gave me any orders," Thordan answered, "and I know not of his plans." Sigrun's half-brother was never the most confident or competent of beasts, but for their father to not give any orders was odd, given the unstable situation. "Though Moth- Queen Lorelei told me to hold Meraholmer until the end of the war."
"She wrote that she wanted Father to be the King of Parma! If he does get elected, the war would be easy!" Sigurd said emphatically.
"This will not be likely, brother." Thordan sighed. "No sane Elector would ever vote for a Southard or Trielian."
"And he is a chief belligerent in the war!" Sigrun reminded her brother. "The Parmans are too rich to risk fighting on any side, ours or theirs, and they simply don't like Father!"
"Hmm, makes sense." Sigurd simply said. "We should get going, sister. We cannot delay for too long, as Lord Becker's forces will get to Hildrinn before we do. Thordan, do your duty."
His brother simply nodded as if he was not listening at all. Then his ears simply sprung up. "Sigurd, Sigrun, this may be the last time we meet. Becker knows that I'm here, and Hildrinn can be taken, but we won't know how long it will hold. I'm worried for the both of you, so..." He rushed forward and held his father's other children in his paws tightly, as though he was utterly terrified of letting go of the duo.
Sigrun interrupted. "You need not worry. We'll come back to you. I swear."
Sigurd was more emotional, as usual. "Always know that you can always call on me when you're in a bind, and I'll be always free to help you out!"
Thordan let go of his elder siblings, clearly overwhelmed by emotion. After struggling verbally, he spoke softly and gently. "I … I will miss both of you. May your hearts and minds guide the both of you forth."
Sigrun smiled. The traditional Trielian blessing. "May them guide you on your way too!"
Thordan looked at the leaving ship from his place at the docks. With his brother and sister leaving on their way to Kaldos, he would have to simply play his part to the best of his abilities.
"They're gone?" A voice behind him caused him to leap up into the air, then fall back down in an unbefitting manner. Turning his head backwards, his eyes met those of a weasel.
"Egil, you need to stop sneaking on me!"
"Couldn't help it. You're always rushing out unguarded, and somebeast has to keep watch on you!" Thordan may have learned from his mistakes made on his last time setting foot on Meraholmer and stopped trusting everybeast he saw, but he still failed to keep guards nearby.
"Besides, your reaction was an extreme inducer of laughter!" Egil pealed. After killing a few guards in the process of saving his friend, he did not take long to act as any friend would - not that Thordan liked it.
The otter sighed. "Please do not do it again."
Egil smiled. "No guarantees, Lord Thordan." He May be beast prone to reflection and thought, but Thordan managed to coax a playful demeanour from the weasel. "Well it's back to business with you, isn't it?" The weasel continued.
The streets of the island were bustling once more, as if the shadow Crestworth cast on it never even existed. Beasts were bartering and calculating here and there, selling Southard legumes and vegetables at higher prices than ever before, and customers vented out their frustration in the most vulgar words and phrases Thordan has ever heard. The otterlord has placed a tariff on Southard goods to damage Southsward's potential for economic warfare, and now he was going to be hated for it.
Truth be told, Thordan never enjoyed his lordship. It's just a task too important for me. Why? Why would Father choose me, and not Sigurd or Gustav Strandsor or his son, or anyone else? Does he know something I don't? He always does! Or is it another of my grandfather's ploys? Not that can ask him now, obviously. It seems that the beasts I know always have a tendency to die at the most inopportune moments.
Egil's voice snapped him out of his world of thought. "Hey, I'm talking to you!"
Thordan hastily responded as the two beasts, woodlander and vermin, walked back to the castle. "Yeah, yeah. Back to the extremely tedious duties of lordship for me, I suppose. What will you be doing in the meantime?"
"Me? I'll be staying with you, your lordship. My father has been quite insistent about yours paying his debts in full, and he sent me to check on you. Don't you remember?"
"My father is an honest beast. He will pay up, but there is always the war going on." Either Father would have to borrow even more from Parman merchants to give him a fighting chance, or would have to ask his wife for Garlean gold. Either way, his father would have to wait. "He'll simply ask for an extension."
"It's not that simple!" Egil exclaimed. "Anything could happen in war! He could be unable to pay back if he's captured or killed!"
Expect the worst in war. Thordan heard that a lot from his grandfather when he was still alive. Had he not died, he would be one of the few beasts able to prevent the exacerbation of the conflict. He might be one of the most annoying beasts some beasts have ever encountered, but he was nothing but a doting grandparent to Thordan during their two years spent together.
The younger Thordan was one of the first beasts who heard of the death of his grandfather. He wept for days, too much for even a grandson of a king, and drawing the attention of his mother, who immediately commanded him to 'cease his moping' and return to Meraholmer, which was the best place to defend Dravania from the newly ascendant Lord Valdemar Crestworth. How could she be so precise yet again?
"I'm sure that it will not be likely to come to that," Thordan said. "We can win, and even if we lose, we are sure get to gain something from it."
The two beasts finally arrived at the castle gates, only to see a beast outside them. The fox with black fur was clearly impatient, and his frustration was matched by the urgency of the situation.
Isangrim remembered the lord and the vermin beside him. The dagger-wielding weasel saved his life just in the castle he was standing before, and clearly he was recognised by the fox.
"I bring tidings from your mother." Isangrim tersely said as the gates were finally opened, the guards not trusting some fox from entering, as the last time he danced in, three woodlanders fell by his paw. Even though all three were Crestworth guards, their more loyal replacements were not exactly taking chances.
"Sorry for you to wait so long, Isangrim." Thordan was receptive to the fox though the guards were not. He was one of the nine beasts able to gain the elder Thordan's trust, and he was one of nine thousand in the case of the younger.
For the last thirty years Isangrim has helped the late king of Parma with matters great and small, clandestine as his methods might me, only known to the old king's associates and kin. Some more superstitious beasts even said that he was some sort of sorcerer, influencing the king in some method invisible from all beasts. All of them were, to put it simply, wrong.
"Your mother commands you to stay away from Parma when she fails to get an acceptable candidate on the throne. She's got Borwin Vorrad on her side, by the Crestworths too have two votes in the persons of Lord Valdemar and his brother."
"So she's just telling you to stay here, and don't go on that side of the Sound." Egil summarised as briefly as he can. "Got it, Your Lordship?"
"Exactly as he says. You will return when sombeast receptive to us does ascend though. It is etched that this will happen."
Isangrim seemed to know something more than he was letting on, and the other vermin caught on. "Etched? Where?"
"Never mind that," the fox said gruffly. "Anyways, remember that you will get to see your mother by the end of this spring." Twelve months was not a long time to wait, especially in wartime, though it would be convenient if a season lasted four times briefer.
"Don't go to Parma. I got that." Thordan simply said as he walked into his audience chamber. It was a rare occurrence when somebeast was actually there, as few foreigners would send envoys to some random islands in the middle of the Sound.
But all cases have an exception, as the trio walked closer, a hedgehog's body came into view - a very familiar hedgehog, in fact.
Whatever his original purpose, Bertil the former guards beast seemed unsettled by the presence of the weasel.
"Sorry I tried to kill you about a month before." Egil quickly apologised. "I was quite desperate back then."
Before the weasel could receive an answer, Isangrim quickly shifted Bertil's attention away from the past. "Why are you here, hedgehog?"
"Lord Valdemar brings a message. He shuddered for a bit, and then continued.
"He will honour his pact with King Gideon and Lord Becker, and he swears not to rest until Raevsvakt and all Meraholmer lies in his paws. You can either submit quietly and leave with all your forces intact, or try to defend what is not rightfully yours. In that case, we would simply lay waste to every single thing
Seeing the shocked and enraged expressions of the trio in front of him, the hedgehog quickly added a sentence, which was followed by more and more words..
"Sorry about last time. After Raevsvakt, Lord Valdemar discharged me from guard duty, and simply sent me here as an envoy without any kind of training. I am just here to deliver a message, and leave intact as befitting an emissary. What was said here reflects not my opinion, so I hope you'll understand."
Thordan swiftly changed his shocked expression for a look of certainty."We will understand, of course. Tell Lord Valdemar that he should not have sworn as such. If he desire's peace, then he should allow his head to calm down as he scrambles to find a solution. If he has no cause for peace, then he should get as much rest as possible. Us Islanders will put up a fight, and it is not possible to resist us half-awake. Go home and bear my message to your lord, and tell him that Lord Thordan Swalestrom, grandson of High King Thordan the Second of Parma, sincerely wishes for him to reconsider his unjustified and blatant invasion."
"Now you can depart with every right of an emissary. May your skills as a diplomat grow. May you fare better than your master. And may your heart and mind guide you forth."
As Bertil walked briskly out after more apologies, Thordan was startled by a clap on the back by the black fox. "You really deserve your grandfather's name."
Thordan muttered his thanks, still confused and perplexed by everything that transpired. The nascent lord would have a lot to do, and he would have to do even more if he had known that Lord Valdemar Crestworth of Doma would soon be the least of his worries.
A/N: A war is seldom fought on one front. Now, the East has to be pincered by Lord Becker and Lord Valdemar against Erlend's sons, while the West is held by Bedric and Garrion Swalestrom against the advancing Trielian king. He and what army? You'll get to see it a week later.
To quote Jade TeaLeaf, 'Southsward has changed since the days of the Bellmaker.' Approximately five hundred seasons have passed, and the technological level is closer to The Rogue Crew as compared to The Bellmaker. Parma was the only kingdom older than Southsward, and used this as an excuse to invade Triel and Southsward several times in the past, until her attention shifted elsewhere. If any of you have questions about the lore, be welcome to review or send a Private Message to me! After all, my story needs much improvement, whether it is good or bad.
Chapter 6 (Pennons Aloft) will be out on 15/16 May!