Machinations
KURBURG, KINGDOM OF OTHARN, KINGDOM OF PARMA
Of all the emissary training Bertil received, no piece of advice was more valuable than the Three Rules of Diplomacy.
Contrary to what may seem obvious to outsiders, the 'rules' were more like guidelines as opposed to actual rules. The first of those was to show no ill will towards anybeast, and to be polite to all beast who stand against you. Lord Sverker excelled in this aspect, though his father somehow always favoured his other son. Harald Crestworth was a born warrior who talks of nothing else but talk of looping heads off. It would only take but three guesses to why Bertil favoured Sverker, and the first two do not count.
The second is to never hate. This sounded hard, so Bertil settled with not expressing hatred. Again, Sverker was a master in this aspect compared to his brother - even Thordan Swalestrom would make a better diplomat than Harald - diplomats preferred shyness to impulsiveness, of course.
This is all because of the third rule - the only way not to break your word is not to give it. The world changes all too fast for trust to be given for long. So why bother? Silence speaks louder than words anyway.
He of course had not mastered the skills a diplomat should have, but enough had been done that his dispatches to Thordan and Erlend Swalestrom were received successfully. The son and the father were both quiet, unassuming, and maybe cowardly beasts, though Bertil did not need to guess why this was the case.
He had returned to Kurburg with Lord Erlend's message. Lord Valdemar was initially dismissive, but would meet with every single member of House Crestworth except for Lady Bengjerd, who is pregnant, and Lord Sverker, who remained in Doma in the time being.
Sverker was the more dutiful of the two, though he lacked his father's favour. After all, while his brother would very much like to rule the world by fire and sword, Sverker would like the same thing while remaining seated the whole time. Slothfulness may not be a virtue seen in a lord, but Bertil had faith in Sverker. After all, he was the one to recommend the hedgehog as an emissary, thus allowing him to bid a final farewell to the job he had learned to hate.
He never got on well with the rest of the guards, which is probably why he was left with the most boring jobs (just like his liege). Of course, this fact had saved his life back at Raevsvakt in the whole Thordan Swalestrom business. He was all too lucky not to have lost his head in the most literal of manners.
He walked into the room behind the Crestworths. The four of them were all of age, though Harald was barely so, being but ten and eight seasons old. He had always carried a look of determination that his brother and great-uncle had lacked.
The same can be said for his father, though in a different way. Harald may be fire, but Valdemar was stone, cold, unmoving and unyielding. He was stubborn, of course, and a natural enemy of Queen Lorelei. Bertil managed to hold a shudder at the thought of him claiming Meraholmer, and starting another great war, though he was always vague about his intentions. Sverker could be a good Lord of Meraholmer, better than his father, or Thordan Swalestrom for that matter. It was a pity that Harald was poised to take over that office as well.
Better that than two Lords of Doma. Doma was at the northernmost point of Otharn, though its inhabitants were more closer to Meraholmer and Dravania in blood and language. The whole Northern Coast of Parma used to be Dravanian, though most of the territories West of Doma, Vargo included, were assimilated into the Otharnese sphere of things; while the Eastern parts developed an identity closer to Laagmeer than Doma, with their disdain for kings and lords evident on their scowls and jeers, while living under the rule of chieftains.
Grandmaster Otto began the conversation, as always. Being the younger brother of Valdemar, he would much rather join the Shieldbrothers than be entitled to his portion of the Doman Lordship. He was a bright and affable otter, though a fearsome warrior nonetheless - he had not got the title for nothing. Pledged to serve Parma, Otto feared politics more than anything, so he never bothered to appear in the last of the three Electoral Councils - the one with but three otters participating. Obviously, that did not sit well with Valdemar, and so here he was.
"So what should be done now?"
"Aldabreschi would never let anyone among us be king after allying with him. We could use him, though not for long. And we cannot afford to make any more enemies. Lorelei is tacky enough, but with her son holding Meraholmer anything bad can happen. At least King Erlend is not interested in the Parma throne."
"We have to give credit to him." Niels spoke next. The lord was always calm, and helped mediate between his brother and King Thordan in previous disputes, and had always enjoyed a "He knows the cost of the crown."
"Well we need a king anyways!" Harald was ever brash, but this time the Crestworths needed such impulse - impulse Sverker did not seem to possess. "Father can fit the role very well!"
'Being king is not that easy, Harald." Lord Valdemar said with a flick of his paw. "We need support. The king, whoever he is, must be hated by none, and must be able to pass judgement and show mercy at the same time."
"These beasts are few in number." Otto laughed, as if he knew something the others did not.
"Indeed." Niels affirmed. A silence ensued when Niels finally realised why his nephew laughed. "Um… why are all of you looking at me like that?"
"You will be a great king, uncle." Otto said as he knelt.
"I am sure the Electors will agree with you, Otto. Queen Lorelei especially." Valdemar smiled - a rare occurrence.
Bertil found himself kneeling as Harald did, with the bodyguards following suit. Niels groaned.
KALDOS, LORDSHIP OF KALDOS, KINGDOM OF DRAVANIA
The courtyard of Castle Kaldos was not particularly silent for the recent months, but with the return of a lord to take charge of the long-neglected city, tranquility seeped in bit by bit. The grass was trimmed to a reasonable length, and the old oak tree were starting to grow leaves again, where under the shades friends sat and talked.
However, the adjective 'tranquil' was not (in normal circumstances) used to describe any single location where Lord Alfyn Stalwart was located in.
"Why in the world would you reject the crown?" the otterlord screamed. Egil may have taken a liking to the tall otter compared to when they first met in Raevsvakt, but the weasel was just as scared of him as he was
Thordan was never known for his best decisions, but Egil would have never guessed that he would throw away the Dravain crown just like that. Sitting under the oak tree of Kaldos Castle was no king, but a nervous little teenager. The Wolf Banner had been resting just by the tree trunk, with no breeze to make it move.
And Thordan knew it too. "I did not reject it! I just asked for a delay!" In Egil's opinion Thordan should had put the crown on his own head as fast as possible, and jammed it so tight that it cannot be taken off his head. But Thordan was Thordan, and not Egil the weasel.
At least Lord Strandsor had the good sense and good will to make him Regent of the Kingdom - an office with its little description being this too was not a desired outcome by Thordan, but he would do everything that keeps him away from the crown - not that this would matter in the long run, as the crown would descend on his head sooner or later, willingly or not.
"Well, you need to get yourself into something important soon." Lady Sigrun sighed as he sat down next to her half-brother. Her other brother's death affected her much, though she had refused to show it. Instead, she was carrying the whole 'Swalestrom against Swalestrom' business on her own. "Lord Strandsor wants you as a mere puppet - this I am certain!"
"Well, everyone does seem to have manipulating me as a hobby sometimes." Thordan erupted into a mirthless laugh, that seemed weird, terrifying even. "From the greatest of kings to the lowliest of vermin." He winked in Egil's direction without a smile on his muzzle, making sure that the weasel saw.
He knows! The contents of that little conversation the younger weasel shared with his father during his first meeting of Thordan have not been disclosed, but Thordan had a knack at guessing what was going on. Not a lot of vermin would go all out in befriending their betters, and Egil did seem excessively attached to the otterlord at first. Seasons, he knows!
Thordan then reverted into the long-expected smile. Egil sighed with relief as Alfyn sighed, for a different reason.
"While I do not approve of your rejection of the crown, I am bound to obey your every command. As I am but a landless otter of noble blood, I have no obligation to any lord for now. I wish to swear my fealty to you."
"You are a brave warrior and a true leader of beasts, Alfyn Stalwart. I shall be pleased to accept your sword and shield into my service." Thordan was visible trembling while his sister stood up and sat away from him.
"I pledge homage to you, Regent Thordan Swalestrom, rightful ruler of Dravania." Alfyn clearly memorised these words - these words that had brought weight and duty with them, and though sparingly used, came from the mouths of every single noble parent. "I will remain your devoted beast as long as my breath belongs to my body, and I will be at your side to fight your enemies as long as you are in need of my sword. I will uphold the claims and rights of you and your rightful heirs. This I swear!"
The otterlord took a deep breath before his mouth started moving again. "Thus is our treaty etched, thus is agreement made."
Thordan never even blinked. "What is asked is given, and the price is paid." The traditional rhyme of fealty. "May you uphold your oath always, with proper courage and determination."
The Regent continued, every syllable louder and clearer than the last. "Let it be known that from this day forward, you are my sworn beast and vassal. I give you my protection and grant you the right to bear your arms in my name, and I pledge that shall not deprive you of your life, liberty and properties expect by the lawful judgement of your peers and the law and custom of the land. I shall also grant you the Lordship of Meraholmer, with all its rents, revenues and beasts at your command under my authority."
Egil's eyes grew as large as ripe oranges. Meraholmer to Alfyn? A Trielian? Half the island's population are vermin! Would they accept him? Or would they be put down? Alfyn is an efficient soldier, and - The weasel shuddered at the thought of Islander killing Islander.
Something must be done.
GYSTRA, DRAVANIA, KINGDOM OF SOUTHSWARD
"So Dravania has raised its banner against Southsward?" Lord Lorents Rueford was not known as the calmest beast of the realm, but even he was able to annoy Becker to such a degree that his ears will simply not stop buzzing as soon as the other lord entered the room.
"So it shall seem." Becker was most irritated by the news that the Wolf Banner was in Dravain paws once more, but so far he was able to show nothing of his wrath. Despite it being obvious that Thordan is nothing other than a puppet and a weakling, it would be a good idea to get him out of the picture as soon as possible.
The question is how.
"We need to march on Kaldos as soon as possible. Surprise the enemy." The Ruefords were not pleased when Thordan was declared Regent of the Realm, but was incensed when Gustav Strandsor got the position of Realmwarden. The two otterlords despised each other so, that whenever they met, words turn into spears, and tongues into swords. Lord Strandsor whispering into Thordan's ear did not help manners.
"I assure you that your vendetta of sorts will be settled, though you would have to wait." Becker shook his head. "Somerled of Deilart marches towards Hildrinn, and we can't be outclassed by Garrion, can we?"
"Well, I can deal with your wayward nephew. Just give me three thousand beasts and I will - "
"There is no need for division of the army. You are the best aide de camp I can ask for. Rest assured that I can deal with Thordan myself, though I think I need your son here. I have some mission for him soon."
Lord Rueford turned his head, ready to retire for the night in his positions across the river. The Udso was the border between Southsward and Dravania until King Riddian III crossed it, and Gystra built on both sides of the river and by the sea - a little melting pot for Southard and Dravain influences alike. When Thordan Swalestrom declared the Kingdom of Dravania revived, the Gystran Dravanians stayed loyal to Southsward. Their loyalty will be rewarded, of course.
Pawsteps from behind made Becker shiver, though he had grown accustomed to them.
"I heard that you have a little family problem," the hedgehog said as he smiled. Phronesis was a healer of the highest caliber, able to use herbs to their fullest potential, and a genuinely calm and friendly beast.
The hedgehog almost made Becker think of his brother. Last time Becker heard of him, he was slowly wasting away with grief while heading to Bleswyn. The seasons have been acted well on him, it seems.
"Care you care for me to take it off your shoulders?" Phronesis' smile turned suddenly lighter in magnitude and intensity.
"That depends on the circumstances."
VARGO, LORDSHIP OF VARGO, KINGDOM OF OTHARN, HIGH KINGDOM OF PARMA
"So you don't want a loan? Skuli sat up, intrigued by the suggestion of the young otterlord.
Corrado Truetide (not to be confused with his father or son of the same name) was a tall beast of twenty-two seasons, and he had his mother's Trielian fur. Of all the noblebeasts he had catered to, Corrado was the strangest, yet somehow most relatable.
He was kind enough to bring a court bard with him to Vargo. Eduard Muirsch, he was called, and was one of the few vermin able to worm his way into the heart of a lord - a strategy Skuli used himself with the youngest of his three sons. Unlike Egil, though, the rat was no childhood acquaintance, instead having been sought out by the otterlord himself, and now follows wherever the lord goes by his own will.
The reformation of the Kingdom of Dravania drew worries from everyone of note, and that included Skuli. Thordan Swalestrom, a king to be? What used to be a joke has soon become the harshest of realities. The fledgling nation would need a strong paw to guide it. Thordan would be a better king in a time of peace, but not now.
The same cannot be said for Corrado. Being a warrior by nature and having an eye for the boldest of enterprises, both his friends and enemies trembled before him, and for good reason. Being a beast of boundless ambition and drive, he resembled King Thordan a bit too much - not the one that died that season, but the one before that.
Thordan the First married the Lady of Hither Garlseca (whose title Corrado now holds), and started a tradition of marrying heiresses. His son married the Queen of Garlesca, and his grandson married the Duchess of Thavnair. Scholars now say that the Skyward holdings cannot be held together by long, and a long series of early deaths in the family minimised their hopes for dividing the family lands. With Corrado, who produced a son (with a crowned head, even) at age seventeen and continuing to pop out otterpups with his very attractive wife, there is some hope for stability.
Such dreams would have to wait until the war is over though. With Garmund's Trielites and Garrion's Otterguard dancing in the Greatrange, two Swalestroms, one of them Thordan (of all beasts!), closing on crowns, and Parma still being in interregnum, stability is a far-off fantasy.
"Yes. I come here to buy a full-on merchant fleet." Corrado smiled as he poured more wine into his goblet before a servant could reach for the cup. "Actually, part of it would suffice."
"Oh, I guess the prices would not be particularly affordable." Skuli chuckled.
"I would pay any price to safeguard the rights of my son." Corrado drank heartily from his goblet. "Speaking of which, my wife is with child again."
"Oh?" Not unexpected.
"I think I will deal with Godred Swalestrom and that slimy Aldabreschi before long." Corrado smiled. "My grandfather tried, of course, but I have faith that I can do better. Mother is trying to disentangle the Aldernese and Valnanier links of the chain, but she left Ilsadia to me."
The otterlord turned to his minnesanger. "Eduard? Play The Wanderer. Every performance does need a grand finale."
FLORET, CROWNLANDS, KINGDOM OF SOUTHSWARD
Birger Waycaster did not expect his brother's return.
As far as he was concerned, Bodvar was rotting in Bleswyn, a prisoner of the Trielian rampage into his homeland. Yet here he was, standing right in front of him, with his signature Waycaster grin on his face - a smile Birger returned in kind.
Birger was no stranger to battle himself - he was a foot soldier under the command of General Ralos, though he did not do anything much at Macolt. Bodvar participated in Vernoll, and escaped Trielian captivity using nothing but his wits and Pickner - a family friend.
Of course, the brothers still had their journeys to complete - Lord Becker needed every single bit of beastpower to firmly crush the rebelling Dravanians. Birger's ancestors may had came from Dravania themselves, but the brothers were Southards through and through. There was no questioning their loyalty.
The two brothers hugged each other for the first time in months. "Gates, I missed you." Birger spoke first, as he smiled warmly for the first time in months.
"How's things with Wayla?" Bodvar seemed downright giddy with joy while Birger blushed. After all, the two brothers may have been close, but Bodvar doesn't know how to stop prodding his nose into the love lives of other beasts.
"She accepted my proposal! We're t' be wed after the war's over!"
'That's good t' hear!" Bodvar war clearly infected by his brother's mirthful spirit. The two were always alike from birth, though they were born two seasons from each other.
The brothers laughed their way into the night.
A/N: Another chapter done, another feat complete. Review responses coming up!
One-Eye: Well, cliffhangers serve many a purpose. You may know it or not, but I am sure that you waited a whole week to see if Thordan accepted the request. Cliffhangers from serial novels actually have quite a long history - blame Dickens for that. Anyways, I have but a single thing to say about cliffhangers. If it worked for Scheherazade, it works for me.
Grey: You get a kingdom! You get a kingdom! Everyone gets a kingdom! Seriously, Thordan and Godred both offered crowns was not planned during the two years that I speak of so often - only Godred's case was considered. As for Thordan, I just had to add that. Can't let our little 'protagonist' get a little too safe, can we? I'm rather proud of every scene where more than one seer talks, so I am quite glad that the Southard Four talking was able to to impress you. Oh, and healer? Magical? When was the last time we heard those two words getting lunked together?
Sebias: Ah, yes. The cliffhanger. The cliffhanger for Sebbie, the cliffhanger chosen especially to entertain Sebbie, Sebbie's cliffhanger. That cliffhanger? Yes. Now you get to see what happened after 'the world changed'. You think he'll make a great king, hmm? I have my doubts... For now, the stoat will play the role of a side character. I promise you that will be important in some other tale. ;)
It has indeed been a while since I wrote a chapter completely full of mundane stuff. I believe the last time I did this was in June, was it? Don't worry. Seers will be back soon, and calamity with them.
Chapter 23 (Discordance) will be up on 11/12 September!