The Lion Tribe had a lot of holidays, Spahen found himself musing. He was walking to the south courtyard where he would be meeting Trebax and his friends for a morning hunt in celebration of the Lion Primordial Festival. After that, Trebax had promised to guide him through Astu Centralis for the evening festivities. While accepting the invitation had been primarily motivated by the investigation, Spahen would be lying to say he wasn’t curious or excited to study and experience the customs and traditions surrounding this holiday. The Lion Tribe was a proud people that prioritized superior, artistic presentation in everything that they did. Certainly a holiday celebrating their origins and very essence would be spectacular.

“Ah! Councilman Spahen, I’m glad you could make it,” Trebax greeted him as he entered the beautifully cobbled courtyard with a repeating radial mosaic and different colors of stone to depict a sun at the center of each circle with rays that merged with the rays of other suns. Even the artisanship and details of the external floors were impressive!

“Thank you for the invitation,” Spahen said with a gracious bow.

“You know Councilmen Ungius, Laniger, Gemma, Placo, and Rallus. We’re just waiting on Asper. I think I’ve yet to introduce you to him.”

“I know his name and would probably recognize his face from council meetings, but no, I have not met him yet,” Spahen agreed, pleased to be spending this hunt with the entire Trebax et al. group.

“Speak of the devil,” Trebax acknowledged someone around Spahen’s shoulder, and Spahen turned to see Asper strolling up to the party. “Shall we?”

As the group collectively turned toward the stables, Spahen extended a friendly hand to Asper. “Good morning. I’m–”

“Councilman Spahen,” Asper said, taking his hand. “Asper.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Spahen offered, attempting to casually read the councilman’s face… which was oddly blank. A moment spent too long staring garnered an awkward side-eye from his target.

“Was there something else?”

Spahen smiled and quickly offered a self-deprecating apology. “I’ve done it again. It’s a habit of the Bear Tribe Elders to commit new faces to memory, but I have found that it makes people uncomfortable in the Lion Tribe. I haven’t managed to unlearn the practice yet.”

“I see.” That was all he got. Cold, blank, aloof… calculated. Asper was the least vocal amongst the Trebax group, but he was likely one of the most intelligent.

Tuning back into the rest of the group in front of him, Spahen took advantage of the opportunity to observe the greater group dynamics and the laughter being shared by Rallus, Unguis and Laniger.

“She actually said that?!” Laniger was saying.

“I warned her that I wasn’t looking for anything serious,” Rallus nodded, smirking.

“Women are stupid. They see what they want to see and then accuse us of being players when we do exactly what we say we’ll do,” Unguis said, shaking his head.

“Because you have so much experience with such things,” Trebax teased, and Unguis’s face soured but bowed in submission.

“And that’s why I won’t let the lot of you anywhere near my daughter,” Gemma scolded softly.

“Don’t lump me in with them, Gemma.” Trebax seemed to pout. “How is Flava these days? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Why do you ask?” Gemma raised an appraising eyebrow, and Trebax subtly backed off.

“I enjoyed speaking with her at the Dapsilis Banquet — easily my favorite dance partner of the night. I thought we got along quite well.”

“Hm,” Gemma hummed and ignored the original question.

“Condeceo asked about Flava the other day,” Placo stated conversationally. “‘Second time this fortnight.”

“Send him by sometime.” Gemma smiled almost smugly. “I think Flava enjoyed their first date.” Spahen schooled a smirk for the displeasure unintentionally commanding Trebax’s features, and the group moved on to other topics.

The clique was an interesting one that spanned a wide age gap and at least two generations. Trebax was the “leader” which seemed obvious, but he wasn’t the leader because he was the most respected or most intelligent. He was the leader simply because he had the assertiveness and charisma to take charge. And he was observant, flattering, well-spoken, and capable of bridging the generational divide — again, charisma.

Unguis was a hothead, likely the youngest member of the group — loud, relatively impulsive, persistent, and seemed the most likely to have a temper— but he was the low man in the pecking order and somehow also a suck-up despite his obvious pride.

The real power belonged to Councilman Gemma. One of the two older councilmen in the group, Gemma held the most natural confidence, and even Trebax didn’t attempt to jockey with Gemma for social dominance. It was subtle, as most things were with lions, but the vaguest suggestions by Gemma were immediately met with compliance and submission. And apparently Gemma had a pretty daughter, so even Trebax found himself in the position of a reluctant bootlicker.

Placo was kind of clueless, likely an old friend of Gemma’s from a previous clique that had mostly retired and moved on. His long-term association and respectful standing with Gemma gave him a high, middle position on this remade totem pole, but his natural talents for working up the social ladder were lacking.

Laniger and Rallus were… young. It seemed fair from the recent conversation to call them playboys, and Spahen had witnessed their competitive ambition on a regular basis in council meetings. Intelligent (but not smart), impatient, self-serving — they were middle-low players — followers carving out a corner of belonging in a winner-takes-all world and riding the coattails of well-established players until they came into their own.

And then there was Asper. Silent. Observant. Wheels constantly turning behind guarded, always slightly narrowed eyes. Even in council meetings, his position in this clique was ambiguous, but that made him easy to overlook. What was his game?

The stables came into view and disrupted Spahen’s internal analysis. They were, frankly, stunning, especially for a set of stables. Constructed of a cement made from a crushed version of the same sandstone from which the palace was built, they were immaculately kept and practical in a rustic-chic sort of way.

“Marshal Freno,” Trebax greeted a short, broad man with salt mixed in his flaxen mane, “are the horses prepared?”

“Councilman Trebax,” the marshal greeted him with a bow. “Yes, your horses are prepared, and Steward Pax has your weapons ready and the bag limit and conservation instructions.”

“Excellent,” Trebax approved and led the way to a small building where they were greeted by a gnarled middle-aged man with leathery, tanned skin and platinum, bleached-blonde hair. “Steward Pax, what are we hunting today?”

“Rabbits are fair game up to five a person, and two bucks for the group. Beware the does. They’re either pregnant or have a suckling fawn,” came a grizzled reply for an equally grizzled man. “I’ve got four hunt servants ready to go with you. If you have any questions, you can ask them. Collect your tools from the weaponry and I’ll see you when you get back.”

Gathering bows, quivers, and hunting knives, the group returned to the stables where Marshal Freno had twelve gorgeous horses, distributed across four servants, waiting. “Good fortune on your hunt, Councilmen,” the marshal said by way of bowing out, and everyone selected a horse and climbed into their saddles.

It really should have been obvious, especially considering that they’d discussed the stables and grounds crews as potential places to find a cover, but Spahen did a double take when, once on his horse, he scanned the group and made eye contact with Erkunden. That’s convenient. Spahen smirked.

***

The hunt was… well, it was obvious that the councilmen weren’t really there to hunt. Erkunden shared a judgemental look more than once with the other hunt servants. The way they all chattered, laughing loudly and speaking over the top of each other while they rode aimlessly through the trees, it would be pure dumb luck if they found literally any animal deaf enough to not scamper away before they caught a glimpse of it.

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He couldn’t really complain though. He’d gotten lucky just to be assigned to this hunt. This wasn’t exactly a part of his regular job description as a stable hand, but with “professional hunter” on his resume, and the originally assigned hunt servant showing up for duty with a fever, Steward Pax had raided the nearest available replacements and found him among Marshal Freno’s staff.

From the way that Professor was engaging the targets, it was apparent that he was still infiltrating the group. He was remaining unobtrusive, passively observing from the sidelines while mirroring mannerisms and mimicking reactions. There wasn’t much to eavesdrop on without Spahen probing more intentionally, but Erkunden remained vigilant, knowing he’d try eventually.

“So, Councilman Spahen, you seem like a clever young man,” one of the older councilmen (Erkunden didn’t know any of their names) addressed Professor directly, his bombastic confidence somehow understated. Erkunden tuned in. “Your observations about the Lion General were… blunt.”

Professor laughed, a social laugh that Erkunden had heard a thousand times on these sorts of operations — relaxed and disarming. He was going to attempt a play. “What makes you say that?”

“Come now, you need not hold back with us. I’m sure we’d all be quite interested to hear more of your court observations. Your perspective is unique and refreshing.”

“Specifically about General Yudha?” Spahen asked casually.

“Not necessarily. But I don’t think any of us have tried to hide our… personal persuasions in that regard.”

“She’s a know-it-all,” Professor said with a certain clipped-ness that at once conveyed distaste to the councilmen and hidden regret. While the councilmen chuckled approvingly, Erkunden acknowledged Spahen’s struggle by bowing his head. “But I think we all have to admit that she’s uncommonly intelligent, and obviously her charms are effective.”

“Much to our chagrin,” a younger councilman chimed in. “Did you know that the Lion General isn’t even a lion?”

“I did not,” Professor feigned surprise.

“She’s a wolf. Not only that, but she grew up in the Wolf Tribe as a soldier — a commoner,” the councilman continued, his nose wrinkling with snobbery.

“I was aware that she is a commoner.”

“Well,” another councilman rolled his eyes, “technically, she’s not. In the Lion Tribe, at least, she descends from a noble line, but she was not raised nor educated as a noble.”

“She was educated as a soldier,” Spahen prompted, stating the obvious.

“And a seductress,” someone else snorted. “You’ve seen how she controls the king — has him wrapped around her baby finger.”

“I’ve picked up that there’s some sort of history there. She was his bodyguard?”

“Yes. It was covered up by the late king, but the then crown prince was about as obvious as a man can be that he was lusting after her. She nearly broke up his wedding, and since then….”

“I’ve done some digging since your statement in court, Spahen,” another younger councilman dropped the volume of the gossip to a low whisper, “no one has seen ‘Mr. Yudha’ in weeks. In fact, it would seem that he disappeared about the same time that the general sent Her Majesty on vacation.”

“No!” someone gasped.

“Oh, yes,” the bearer of this gossip smirked in satisfaction.

“That’s just too perfect.”

“What are the odds that they both disappear at the same time?”

“There’s more,” another councilman added cryptically. “She’s been spending an hour or two in His Majesty’s private study every evening for the past week.”

“Primordials, that’s juicy! Is it confirmed, then?”

“What exactly? The secret meetings or the sex?”

“Both,” two of them chimed at once.

“The meetings are confirmed, but without peeking through the keyhole, the affair remains speculative. I am curious about their pillow talk, though,” he snickered. “Can you just imagine all the conspiracies they dream up together?! The Lion King and the Lion General — it sounds like a dramatic fable in the making.”

“Well, an affair would certainly explain the king’s affinity for General Yudha’s council. It would be interesting to witness what would happen if the Lion General were successful where Her Majesty has not been — as an outside observer, of course,” Spahen said with another light chuckle and dismounted. Everyone pulled up on the reins of their gently meandering horses. “Would you excuse me a minute? I need to relieve myself.”

Erkunden had to work really hard to keep the surprise out of his face. That was the angle Professor had come up with? Dangling Beta in front of their targets as bait? Primordials! Does she know?! As Professor disappeared into the surrounding trees, Erkunden made it a point to appear thoroughly distracted by the saddlebags on his mount, shifting them around as though trying to adjust something that was bothering him.

“He has a point,” someone muttered.

“Have you reported the rumors to her? You know she’ll want to know.”

“Not yet. Anything without substantial evidence isn’t worth her time, but if the general really is spending her evenings in the king’s study….”

“She is.”

“You’re confident in your sources?” There wasn’t an audible reply, and someone sighed. “I’ll pass it along. You’re right. She’ll want to know.”

“Do you have any idea what she’s doing with this information?”

“I’m not certain, but I have a guess, and her interest is obvious. If the king fails to father an heir….”

“You think she is lining up a candidate?”

“Don’t you?”

“Who do you think it is?”

“Probably one of the princess’s husbands — whichever one she thinks she can control.”

“A logical choice, but the court battle alone will be… messy.”

“It’s all messy.”

“We only have to keep the pressure on him through the next couple of years.”

“How do you figure?”

“The queen comes back in no more than ten months. Assuming her next pregnancy fails, the king swore to take a mistress. Let’s give that a generous eight month timeline. Then the mistress gets to try and bear him a child. If, at that point, the mistress’s pregnancy ends in failure, maybe give that process a year, the council will be forced to consider a vote of no confidence in the king’s ability to produce an heir. That’s two and a half years.”

“That’s assuming a lot,” someone murmured.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a lot of moving parts. One can’t control everything.”

“That’s not something you have to worry about, Laniger.”

“Well, I know that,” someone, presumably ‘Laniger’, snapped irritably. “It’s not like she tells us much anyway.”

“True…”

“Where is Councilman Spahen? Do you think he got lost?”

Crunching through the underbrush in the direction Professor had left announced his near arrival, and Erkunden suspected he’d been hovering for a while, letting the targets talk until they got suspicious. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Spahen said as he emerged, presenting a rabbit carcass to the group. “I found a friend.”

“Ah! Well spotted,” one of the older councilmen cheered his success, and Spahen shoved the rabbit into his kill bag with a grin. Erkunden stopped fussing with his saddle bags as Spahen mounted his horse, the pair sharing the briefest moment of eye contact during which Erkunden barely nodded and Spahen’s lips twitched upwards.

***

Back at the stables, Spahen traded his hunting weapons for Rallus’s horse, returning both equines to their stalls and unnecessarily helping to unbridle and unsaddle them. Stag seized the intentionally made opportunity to exchange a brief conversation.

“Did they talk?” Spahen asked in a barely-there whisper, his lips hardly moving as he mindlessly petted the horse in front of him.

“Yes. Suspicions confirmed. They’re connected, but I’m not sure how much they know. ‘She’ seems to be calling the shots,” Erkunden returned in kind.

“She?”

“No name.”

Spahen’s next exhale was a carefully muted sigh of relief. At least they had a concrete starting point. “I’ll keep working on them. You’ll tell the team?”

“Mn.”

Another puffed exhale. “While you’re at it, would you please forward Beta my apologies?”

“For what exactly?”

“She’ll know,” Spahen sighed again. “Tell her I didn’t think it all the way through, and I’m sorry.”

“Mn.”

“Thank you.” With a side-eyed glance and vague nod at Stag, Spahen left the stables to continue his schmoozing, finding the rest of the councilmen returning from the weaponry and animatedly discussing options for lunch.

“Let’s hit a few street vendors,” Unguis suggested. “It’s the Lion Primordial festival! The street vendors always have the best stuff.”

“I’ve gotten food poisoning a few too many times from the street vendors over the years,” Gemma rejected the idea.

“How about….”

Spahen tuned their conversation out, contemplating Stag’s report. Suspicions confirmed, but I’m not sure how much they know. ‘She’ seems to be calling the shots. So the councilmen were not necessarily the masterminds of this conspiracy, though that hadn’t been entirely ruled out. And who was ‘she’? A simple debate warred in his head between the pros and cons of pressing his luck and guiding the conversation to what he wanted to discuss at the risk of raising suspicions versus waiting for the subject to come up organically, which would take time but would limit the risks of blowing the entire investigation. Patience, he reminded himself. Play the long game.

“Does anything sound good to you, Spahen?”

He returned to the conversation with a small chuckle. “I’m afraid I am not qualified to have an opinion yet. I’ve had very little cause to go into town before today and don’t know what’s good.”

“I see,” Trebax frowned in thought. “I vote we get a big lunch somewhere nice and then top off with whatever pleases us as the evening progresses. Councilman Spahen, do you like steak?”

“I’ve never been known to turn away a good steak.”