Damn! updated faster than I thought
Chapter Three: Wind and Sail
Günter set the Senator's clothes on his bed. Life as Ulrich's personal assistant was easier than working for his Mother. The Senator showered in his en suite, the steam escaping into the room.
A knock at the door startled the boy, he rushed over to open it; "Sir 'as some documents delivered from the Senate," the older woman handed Günter a large envelope and jostled away. He tossed it down on the bed next to the clothing.
"Is that important?" Ulrich asks, entering the room in only a towel. The droplets of water in his hair fall to his well-toned torso. His eyes found the envelope: Urgent printed in red across the front. "That will be all Günter; you may have the rest of the day off."
"Thank you Sir!" he cried, excited to be able to explore the city by himself. He ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him in his haste.
Ulrich smiled, the boy had really come out of his shell the few days they spent exploring the Capital together. He sighed, sitting on the bed, opening the envelope. His eyes scanned the content of the letter:
To the esteemed Senator Ulrich Fon Ronsenburg,
I know you are aware that the Archadian Senate has made a request that induced the Landis Senate to reconvene one week early; what you may not be aware of, is the impending summit the Archadians are holding for all non-Rozzarian nations, next week.
The newly elected Emperor Gramis has requested that you be the Landian representative, as he is a fan of your heroics during the war and wishes to meet you personally. You will be required to trim your beard, as the Archadians find the length of the average Landian man's beard barbaric, and we don't want to be upsetting the natives do we?
You are to leave immediately; your travel papers are enclosed. Safe journey my friend,
Regards, Chancellor Wolfram Adlersflügel of Landis.
"Why couldn't you just tell me that before I came to the Capital?" he yelled at the letter. "And cutting off my beard? Do you delight in insulting me Chancellor?" He threw the letter down by his side, his hand stroking his proud beard. It almost reached his chest, how could he cut it off now? After so many months of caring for it, getting it as smooth as the golden mane that is his hair, it would not be right.
After dressing, he checked his travel papers; his flight is departing from the aerodrome in two hours.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he stroked his beard again, and with a heavy sigh, he cut it off. He felt the sudden cold the absent hair left behind. Trimming it neatly, he shaped it to a more acceptable Archadian style; well that is what he hoped.
With several changes of appropriate clothing, he left for his rendezvous with the aircraft, leaving a note for Günter.
The Imperial Senate was a grand red structure, the arrow shape pointing towards the rising sun, like a menacing otherworldly destroyer, daring Archadia's enemies to attack just so it may strike them down. Those who walked the halls of this impressive construction were the ones to fear. The Senate were the ones who gave the final say, whether the convicted were to live or die, whether the elected Emperor Gramis Gana of house Solidor would receive more power and whether they would strike with bloody sword all those who opposed the mighty Archadian Empire.
There was one man who desired to change that, to bring that power to one man, to himself, the Emperor, beloved of all gentries and commoners alike. The thirty-two year old man sat at his desk, Judge Ek forever at his side.
"Tell me Ek," the Emperor asked, "to control those who control, is this too ambitious?"
The equine helm turned to face him, a sultry voice flowed like a brook in early spring, "I believe the Senate possesses too much power my lord, they seek to use you as their puppet, rather than the head of state in which you are. You do still have the authority they do not, the choice of veto to anything you believe is unethical or outright wrong."
This calmed Gramis's frustration, "still, I must find a way to tighten the Senates' leash, or they are likely to run riot. I do not wish to be entering another war with Rozzaria any time soon, but those pig headed Senators make it so damn hard!"
Ek laid her gauntlet on his arm, "Fear not my lord, the Judges will support you, whatever you decide is best for Archadia," her tone neutral. He could feel her eyes burning into him.
He shuddered under her touch, her imposing figure looming over him. An Emperor should not be intimidated by anything ... anyone; but Ek had this way about her, "I ... I hope we can rally a peaceful united league. I do not trust Rozzaria, and I trust the Senate even less. But I wish to extend the hand of friendship to those, west of the Jagt Yensa; I do not wish my boys to grow up in conflict."
"Uniting the Allies in that war may be seen as an aggressive move by the Rozzarians."
"That is why I have also invited representatives from Bhujerba and Bur-Omisace; both were neutral during the conflict."
"And yet, no Rozzarians?"
"One step at a time Ek, the war only finished a few years ago, it is still fresh in everyone's minds. The Rozzarian Emperor lost his heir, Keln, in the conflict."
"I am aware of that, my concern was the fact you neglected to send an invite, I know they will refuse, but the courtesy of the attention is just as important."
"And what if they accepted? What then?"
"Then you are a step closer to a resolution." Judge Ek resumed her post, "I also believe that inviting the Hero of Landis to be a grave error." her words hit the Emperor; he could not resist inviting the man he admired. With a final sigh of disapproval, Ek stood to attention in respectful silence, leaving the Emperor to contemplate what she had to say.
Ingra carried a bowl of steaming stew with some crusty buttered bread; her mother had declined in health over the last few days and she did not know if she would make it to winter.
"Mama," the young woman called as she entered her mother's bedroom, "I have your lunch."
The older woman coughed as she sat up, "My sweet child," she coughed harder, small drops of blood spraying onto her handkerchief, "It smells delicious."
"Why won't you let the doctor see you?" Ingra asked; the pain in her voice evident.
"There's nothing the doctor can do, I'm dying, there's no denying that," she smiled sadly, holding her daughter's hand, "don't worry, I'm sure I have a few weeks left in me."
"It better be more than that," she chided, wiping a tear from her eye, "you have so much to live for." Prudence began to eat her stew as Ingra poured her a cup of juice. "Wouldn't you like to be a grandmother one day?"
"I would be happy for you to marry and have children when you are ready," she mumbled between mouthfuls. "Your happiness is all that matters to me; I don't care if you do not wish to marry or if you want to join the Valkyrie Guard or wish to run away to Archades, just as long as you are happy, cupcake."
Ingra blushed, "Maybe I am, and I've found someone to be happy with," she announced.
"I do hope so, you and your brother …" Prudence slapped her hand over her mouth, "You didn't hear that."
"I have a brother? Who is he?" Ingra's shock causing her voice to rise higher than normal.
With no energy to fight, "I promised Old Basch I wouldn't, but I think I can trust you not to say anything to your dad."
"Old Basch? Ulrich? No you can't!" she stood up ready to fly out the door.
"Ingra wait," she grabbed her daughter's hand, "you must understand."
"What's there to understand?" she huffed angrily, "You cheated on dad and I'm expected to keep quiet!" she pulled her hand from her mother, "well mother?"
"I wanted a baby … you," the elderly woman explained, "your dad was … unable to do that for me."
"I don't understand …"
"Twenty years we were married for and no children to show for it," she cried, "it hurt your dad as much as it hurt me."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Ingra asked, also crying.
"I didn't know how," she confessed, "how does anyone tell their child that their father is not who they thought they were."
"But why him?" the young woman pleaded, "Why did it have to be Ulrich's father?"
"He saw the anguish I suffered, her ladyship doted on Ulrich, boasting of his achievements and his attentions he gave his mother," she sobbed, "I wanted the same thing! A child to love and care for. Old Basch came to me and offered help, which I accepted. I wanted you that much. When you were born, everyone rejoiced."
"You should have told me earlier," Ingra wept, "Before I did something stupid."
"Oh pet," she hugged her daughter, "I'm so sorry, if I had known the two of you were growing close I would have said something earlier."
"I was just a kiss," Ingra sighed, "Nothing really, I don't know if he feels anything."
"Ingra, you must not show any interest," Prudence commanded, "At all, its imperative."
Günter returned to the townhouse that night, late. The surly housekeeper waited like his Mother, alone in the dark and grumpy.
"So" she growled, "where 'ave you been?"
The boy visibly shrank, "Out," he replied quietly, "The Senator gave me the day off."
"'e gave all of us the day off, but I 'ad to give yah this," she thrust the note into his hands, "Before I could go; it is no longer day, but night and I 'ave wasted an 'ole day!"
He apologised, "Have this, as an apology," he handed her a gold locket he bought, with the intention of giving it to his Mother next time he was in town, but this was an emergency.
The woman's surly face softened, "Oh my boy, don't be silly, I should be sorry, I'm tired." She closed his hands over it, "Keep it; just make me a tea like a good lad. Anyway's, it's not that I 'ad anythin' to do."
Günter sighed with relief and rushed into the kitchen, putting the kettle on. Whilst waiting for it to boil, he opened the note:
Günter,
I have had to go to Archades, behave yourself and stay in the Capital, I will return when I can,
Regards,
Ulrich.
P.S. I would suggest not staying out late my dear housekeeper is not likely to take it very well.
"Now he tells me," he mumbled.
"'ow's that tea coming along?" the woman asked.
Günter quickly finished his task, taking it to the dining room table, where the woman sat.
"You remind me of my Ansgar, gods rest 'is soul," she sighed, her hand clasping a silver locket, much like the one Günter tried to give her, "'e gave me this, the morning 'e left with Ulrich to go off to war. What a brave boy my Ansgar was, like 'is Da', died an 'ero too 'e did." She opened the locket, showing him the two pictures in it, one of her son, the other her husband, "Guess I'll never be that Gran 'e promised I'd be by now." She picked up a biscuit and nibbled it. "She was a lovely girl, Brynja, married now with little ones, but she's nice to visit sometimes."
Günter felt sad for her, she was not as bad as Ulrich made out. He wondered how the Senator was faring on the airship; they scared Günter, something not right about them, floating exactly like gigantic bricks do not.
"I wonder 'ow 'is Lordships fair'n on them airships," the woman commented, clearly changing the subject, "'e 'ates flyin' yah know!" she chuckled, "scares the willies out of 'im!"
Günter felt better, knowing his boss and hero was just as fearful of those unnatural contraptions as he, was comforting. "They scare the willies out of me too!" he chuckled, "me mum use to say that if we were meant to fly, we'd be born with wings."
"I say that!" the woman giggled.
Ulrich downed another shot of … whatever that was, convincing himself that the spinning of the room was only him in the inebriated state rather than any turbulence the aircraft experienced.
"Senator, I believe you are drunk," the stewardess informed Ulrich, "I must inform you I can no longer provide you with beverages, perhaps some complimentary nuts?"
"Only when we land, will I try to sober up," he retorted, reaching for the amber coloured bottle in the woman's hands.
"I'm sorry sir, but it is against the policy of the East Ivalice Company to serve inebriated customers, we can serve you a non-alcoholic beverage and food but no alcohol," she crossed her arms as though challenging him to disagree.
"Perhaps I should retire," he stood up, swaying wildly on the spot, "you should get better pilots for these things, flying all over the place." He spun around several times before feeling his way out of the bar, disappearing down the hall.
The senator stumbled through the hall, trying each door lock with his room's key until he found it. He fell into his room, landing on his hands and knees. He swallowed to prevent emptying the contents of his stomach on the floor, instead, belching a foul, sour smelling gas. He rolled onto his back, easing the nausea down again. "I hate flying," he grumbled to himself, reaching for his bed, which seemed a mile away.
Exasperated, he heaved himself back to his feet … or near enough to, and made his way to bed.
Bhujerba was truly a beautiful city at dusk, the golden hue intensifying the sandstone buildings of the city. Malger loved this city, so laid back, as though it were a holiday everyday, everyone doing what they like; no other place in Ivalice could work like this.
General Azelas made his way over one of the many bridges of the city towards the residence of the Marquis. To see his friend again would be nice, also to confirm the rumour that Halim Ondore III had in fact become the proud Father of a baby girl, the first-born to the family in over five generations.
"Sir?" one of the Sainikah, guarding the entrance of the grand estate asked, "are you expected?"
"No," he confessed, "I am here for a personal visit. Please tell the Marquis that General Azelas of the Order of Dalmasca is here."
The soldier stood to attention before scurrying up the lengthy path, leaving his comrade behind to guard the entrance, alone.
After what felt like hours later, the Sainikah returned, panting from the exertion, "The Marquis ... is pleased of your visit ...and ... wonders why you took so long to come," the guard huffed.
The General smiled; the guards parted, allowing him access to the compound. He marched quickly up the long path towards the manor, atop of the only hill in the city.
Inside the Marquis sits with his wife reclined on a rather large and luxurious lounge, reading poetry in the local dialect to her. Halim's arms wrapped around his wife, holding the book before them as he whispered the romantic words into her loving ear.
"Halim," she cut in between paragraphs, "I apologize, but I tire. The baby hasn't let me sleep too well."
The Marquis smiled lovingly at his wife, "Alright Madhu," giving her a tender kiss, "I will tell Malger you were unable to see him."
She returned her husband's kiss prior to leaving. He listened to her footsteps grow faint down the hall, his daughter begin to cry and his wife scream out a string of obscene expletives whilst kicking the nearest object to her.
"I'll tend to her Madhu,you get your rest," the proud Father called out. He hurried down the hall to the nursery to tend to his crying child.
After changing her nappy, he carried her out to the room he sat in before, meeting with Malger.
"So the rumours are true," the General commented.
"Indeed they are," the proud Father beamed. "Her name is Amalia."
"I see she has been blessed with her Mother's beauty," Malger grinned, "fortunately for her."
The Marquis chuckled.
"My wife gave birth to our fifth child the morning I left, a boy, Vossler," the General informed the Marquis.
"And you were ordered to be the envoy for Dalmasca? Has the king lost his heart?"
"No," Azelas sighed, "Prince Raminas is, once again, nowhere to be found, so I have to take his place."
"The Prince is missing?"
"He disappears with young ladies for days at a time in lowtown."
"Just like his Father," the Marquis laughed, "Dayaram was the same, but he ventured further a field, rumour has it that back in the day, he fathered the child of Ramona Margrace."
"So," Malger started, "Who will be representing you in Archades?"
"I will represent myself; I leave in the morning in my private yacht," Halim informed the General, "Care to join me? The flight is long and dull."
The General agreed and they continued to catch for the rest of the evening over a bottle of madhu.
Ulrich sat in his room on the floating barge, the clouds drifted past the window, slowly. His fingers dug into the arms of the chair, his eyes shut tight and a trickle of sweat on his brow. Why did the Chancellor book him on the slow flight? Nevertheless, Ulrich knew that was a rhetorical question, the Chancellor had a bout of jealousy every time Ulrich was mentioned. Before the battle of Galtea, Wolfram Adlersflügel was considered a hero, saving the former Chancellor from an assassination attempt by an unknown assailant. He had taken a bolt to the chest and almost died from the effort.
It was not unusual for a man (or woman) of Landis to do something heroic, their history was littered with famous names from great battles reaching back to the time before the Dynast King. Back to a time when Landis was a part of a great realm that encompassed the entire continent, ruled by the great Queen Elfreda, the province of Landis was a gift to an illegitimate son, who created the first democratic country in all of Ivalice.
Ulrich was descendent of Queen Elfreda, like most of Landis, the Senator would say.
The barge shook unexpectedly and Ulrich tore the padding off the chair's arms. "I'm going to kill Wolfram when I get back!" he uttered to himself.
The cabin's speaker system came to life, "This is your captain speaking, we have hit some unexpected thermal activity; we apologize for the inconvenience."
"Great," he exhaled, "more thermal activity, more turbulence and more anxiety! It's like this flight has been specially designed to shit me!"
A quiet knock at the door alerted him that his breakfast had arrived, not that he could stomach it.
"Sir?" a young voice asked from the other side of the door, "Your breakfast is here."
"Enter."
The young man came in with a silver platter of exotic fruit with some brightly coloured juice in a crystal goblet. It looked too good to eat, but Ulrich decided he would commit the sight to memory then devour it.
"I hope it is to your liking Sir," the steward stated as he left.
The Senator sat at the table by the window and tucked into the sweet array of succulent flesh. He contemplated wandering the ship's deck, but the thought of being so high up did not appeal to him, so after an agonizing time deciding what to do to pass the time until that evening when they arrive in Archades, he decided to pass the time at the bar, again.
Upon finishing the platter and grooming himself to greet the day, he exited the room. Clad in casual clothes, he still caught the eyes of many young women as he walked the corridors towards the only place on the ship that did not have a view of the sky, the bar. The Old Bangaa did not need to ask what he would want; he had entertained the Senator the previous day.
"One Landis ale for the Senator," he said, placing a large stein on the counter. Ulrich accepted it with gratitude and began to sedate his anxiety.
I don't mean to make Ulrich look like an alcoholic, he's under a lot of pressure