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Lord Storm Nattas
Way easier going down
Part II
-Plug the holes, Lord Nattas-
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> Where she goes, I’ll follow
>
> -
>
> Lord Storm Nattas,
>
> Regia’s Master of Silence,
>
> Queen Regent’s Shield,
>
> Baron of Moon’s Haven
>
> & Keeper of the Golden Forest
>
> Last week of Spring 190 NC
>
>
Part IIA
The Queen Regent was clad in a long blue dress. Whilst of typical light Lorian material –in this case sheer linen- it had a modest v-shaped neckline and wore three platinum and gold chains on her neck that intertwined to create a single necklace, named after the two prominent rubies attached to it.
The Tigress Eyes and her silver tiara were sparkling in the well-lit hall of Lord Doris palace. Eight large windows were fully open and the strong sun poured inside. Primus Molders bowed once deeply, after he scanned the large room and the people present. Lord Doris Alden, Lord Brakis of Illirium, Sir Turner of Novesium, Sir Cato of Demames, Sir Rik De Weer of Scaldingport, Sir Barnard and Sir Tatum of the Queen’s Guard and Lord Nattas being the more notable.
“Primus Molders, we shall hear what you have to say,” The Queen said and the man with the thinning hair stepped forward.
“Queen Regent Miranda,” He started, holding a couple of scrolls in his left hand. “Let me start by relaying the High King’s sincere condolences for your loss and remind those present that the two Kings had been close friends for a very long time. King Alistair shall be missed greatly, it is unfortunate and the latest in a series of tragedies that have befallen both great houses.”
“We thank him for his words in our hour of grief,” Miranda said, rapping at the armrest with her long nails nervously. “He has another message for us, is this true?”
Primus Molders grimaced and eyed the frowning lords and knights present.
“May I read from the scroll your grace?” He asked respectfully, a man well-versed in being the envoi of perilous missives, for the man conveying them first and foremost.
“Thou can, but please do hurry it though Primus Molders,” Miranda taunted him with a strained smile. “It’ll be ungodly hot in here come noon.”
It must be the water, Storm thought seeing her tired face under the façade. Or too much fucking stress. You got to hang in there dear.
“I shall strive not to waste the Queen’s time,” Molders replied, wasting said time. Storm couldn’t fault him here, even a tired Miranda was a treat to gawk at so early in the day.
A couple of Lords chuckled at that.
“Kaltha had no ill will towards Regia this is a well-known fact,” Molders started again. “A marriage to the late Prince Kasper was arranged and even after that tragically didn’t come to be,” Storm saw Miranda move on her throne disturbed at the envoi’s words and grimaced worrying she would lash out. “Kaltha still had no designs, nor any interest in Regia’s affairs. It was Sir Lucius actions that have brought the two Kings to this point and what led to the battle of the Turncoats—”
“What’s the meaning of this?” Sir Cato blasted him.
“It’s the name of the battle—” Molders tried to say, but Sir Cato interrupted him again.
“Two battles sir! One in the Small Plains and the other at the Coastal Road, no turncoats were involved.”
“Those that turned against the High King earned that moniker dear Sir Knight,” Molders replied keeping his composure over the murmuring of those present.
“There are no treaties giving your King the leverage sir!” Sir Cato argued. “King Alistair argued that same fact.”
“He argued by assaulting King Antoon’s guards inside Riverdor,” Molders replied tensely. “Hardly in the right, when his son had just murdered his way to the bloody seat of Krakenhall!”
“Primus Molders!” Miranda barked, all flushed.
“Apologies for the hoarse language your grace,” Molders said quickly.
Ah, you piece of rotten shite, Storm thought glaring at him.
“Sir Lucius doesn’t hold Krakenhall,” Lord Brakis said, his baritone voice easily covering all other whispers. “Zofia of Ludr has declared an independent Duchy there. If I’m not mistaken, she’s broken with the Jarl as well.”
The news coming from the North, reaching them easier now since birds had started arriving from Krakenhall and Asturia much more frequently, were a bizarre concoction of political toxicity and intrigue, one had better sip and not gulp down, if he valued his sanity.
“Installed by Sir Lucius,” Molders argued. “Why the whole realm believes he’s gotten her pregnant!”
That is a problem, Storm thought.
If true.
“You have no proof of that Primus Molders,” Miranda said warningly. “Sprouting lies could lose you your tongue in my court.”
Molders grimaced and licked his dry lips. “Sir Lucius is waging war on King Antoon’s subjects, killing noble men and civilians alike your grace. These are King Antoon’s words, but despite all these atrocities, he’s still willing to put aside war for the sake of our people.”
“What’s the alternative?” Storm asked loud enough to be heard and stepped forward, putting an end to the ruckus that had started at the envoi’s words.
Molders stared at him surprised.
“King Antoon is justified to ask for compensation,” He finally said.
“So is Regia,” Storm replied. “King Antoon tried to assassinate King Alistair in Riverdor, kept trying, killing many of his soldiers in two battles and stopped when the man was dead. You blame Lucius sir, but Lucius isn’t here nor is he in charge. We blame Antoon and he’s guilty as sin the way I see it.”
“Lord Nattas!” Lord Doris barked, just as Molders scrunched his face this way and that trying to keep his tempers from flaring. “You don’t speak for Regia!”
“He does,” Miranda replied and signed for Sir Barnard to approach. “Baron Nattas speaks for me Lord Treasurer.”
Sir Turner rolled his eyes and stepped forward. “Nattas isn’t a Baron your grace. The man bought a parcel of land in Novesium from Lord Ursus, not a god-darn Barony!”
Lord Doris frowned, his eyes on the approaching knight.
“Your grace, Lord Nattas words can’t represent your will, he doesn’t have the authority. Let us recess and talk this—”
Miranda got up from her throne stopping him. Sir Barnard had reached Nattas in the meantime, eyed him for a moment and then secured the large gold shield-shaped badge on the left side of his chest, before walking away.
“Baron Nattas shall serve as my Shield brother,” Miranda said and Lord Doris blinked, face split in a half-shock half-disgusted grimace, as if he’d swallowed something foul that had in turn lodged to his throat. “Sir Turner that parcel of land I have decreed to be a Barony as of yesterday. I will forgive your ignorance this time, but ask that you remove thyself from my sight. I found your tone insulting to our person.”
“Your grace,” The chastised knight retorted with a deep bow, quite difficult for the amount of armour he had on. “I shall obey your command!”
Fuck off, Storm eyes told him, lips forming a small satisfied smirk.
“Lord Nattas, please continue,” The Queen Regent said with a sigh and returned to her throne.
“I believe it’s Primus Molders answer we are waiting for, your Grace,” Storm said.
Everyone turned their head to stare at the sweating Envoi.
“Queen Miranda, I must ask your forgiveness…” He mumbled visibly distressed. “I can’t recall the Shield’s query.”
“I asked for an alternative to the current situation your Grace,” Storm said readily.
“Ahm, you wish for war to continue Lord Nattas?” Molders asked him puffing out.
“I never had,” Storm replied. “But this was your offer Primus Molders. Here’s our answer. Your demand we reject, should Regia bring its armies to Riverdor?” A loud murmur was raised from the hall. Storm continued silencing them. “Or should we leave things be, let time heal the wounds? A war would be bad for us, no one wants it, but it will be ruinous for your King, I believe.”
“That’s a bold claim Lord Nattas,” Molders warned him.
“People will rally behind King Alistair’s widow,” Storm retorted confidently. “Antoon might find it more difficult to justify opening yet another front Primus Molders. I advise ye to make it clear to him.”
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“Give us the room,” Lord Doris said the moment most of the foreign dignitaries and Primus Molders had departed. The scribes gathered their scrolls, quills and inkpots and exited while the Lord Treasurer paced up and down in front of his sister. “Why did you do that?” He asked her after the last of them was out of the throne room.
“I had to remove Lord Holt brother,” Miranda replied. Lord Doris was her half-brother as a matter of fact. There was an older one, but he’d died after catching a fever during the Yepehir campaign, excessive drinking according to some tongues, or a combination of both. Her young mother Veronica had drown on a cruise to the Turtle Isles whilst pregnant to her baby brother, or sister. It must be noted here that she was the third wife of the late Lord Hein Alden and Lord Doris had raised her since she was three, after he’d taken over from their ailing father.
Lord Doris stared at Storm for a long moment, as if he was seeing him for the first time, or under a new light.
Don’t take a boat to the Turtle Isles, Storm advised his future self.
“Lord Nattas is an experienced man,” The Queen Regent added, trying to patch things up. “We want him on our side.”
“You are pushing us to war with Antoon Lord Nattas,” Lord Doris said, after nodding to her words.
“I don’t,” Storm replied. “Antoon will not fight now, he can’t.”
“What about six months from now?”
“The future is difficult to predict,” Storm said. “But we can prepare for it.”
“People want Jeremy on the throne Lord Nattas.”
“Some Lords want him, others prefer Lucius and the people will be fine with her grace holding the reins, Lord Treasurer.”
“I must say this is surprising,” Lord Doris admitted. “I didn’t expect this alliance.”
Likewise, Storm nodded with a fake smile on his face.
I need to find another assassin fast.
Fuck the gods.
“Jeremy isn’t ready for the throne brother,” Miranda said. “And we need to take him away from Lord Ruud and Sir Rik.”
“Well, the Prince loves his young wife and the De Weers have given him a lot these past months on top of her. Lands, excursions, hunting trips and the promise of titles. How are we going to do that dear?” Lord Doris replied. “We’ve given Lord Nattas a Barony instead. Ah, I fear your letters and cuddling have lost their appeal and might not be enough for the young Prince.”
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“This went well,” Miranda said the moment Lord Doris left them.
Storm glanced at Sir Tatum ever present near the Queen Regent.
“Your grace, I believe you should leave Aegium,” Storm replied.
“Leave? Whatever you mean… Lord Nattas?”
“Return to Cartagen.”
“I’m safe here,” Miranda argued. “I know the city better than the capital.”
“And they know you, your grace,” Storm said. But I don’t know the city. “Which may be a problem.”
“Didn’t we agree that this went well?” She insisted a little frustrated.
“No your grace we didn’t. As a matter of fact, I fear we just stunned them and they are going to lash out. With your leave I shall try to remedy the situation.”
“What does this mean Lord Nattas?” Miranda asked him narrowing her eyes.
Ah, he thought. It’s better you don’t know.
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Storm eyed the large double door floor to ceiling windows of his rented villa at the outskirts of the city.
“You couldn’t find something nearer Sirio?” He asked the bookish man buried in his notes.
“It is rather quiet with a view of the forest, hillside and the sea beyond them,” Sirio replied.
Perfect for writing in peace was his meaning.
“Are we going to climb down to the beach?”
“Ah, there’s a road Lord Nattas. This neighborhood is called ‘Highlands’, but it is fully connected, the other leg of the junction you passed on your way here leads down to the seaside. Aegium is a safe city,” Sirio said stopping his work.
“Lord Brakis has naval units at Illirium,” Storm replied. “Lord Sula has an army ready at Demames and Lord Ursus I don’t trust at all, after we swindled a Barony out from under him. These are our neighboring cities.”
“What do you fear?”
“If Jeremy presses for the throne, we may have to make a decision,” Storm replied. “We agree and Lord Sula might pay us a visit. Why he can just come straight down the road. We don’t and Lord Brakis can bring the Fleet here, another beauty.”
“Lord Sula will pick our side then,” Sirio noted with a smile. Storm glared at him.
“Sula will need to deal with Ursus first right next to him and we are not in Cartagen to have some troops on our side.”
“Will the Queen leave then?”
Storm sighed.
“I can’t… it’s rather delicate talking to her,” He said, then wished he’d kept his mouth shut.
“It appears it is working my Lord,” Sirio replied, understanding his silence.
Storm smacked his lips and stared out of the windows. Good grief, all these white rooftops hurt my eyes, he thought.
“You are to move in with Maja upon her return,” He said and the Historian frowned.
“I haven’t had the time to speak to your daughter Lord Nattas—”
Maja was still on her mission.
The months ticking away grating to Nattas nerves.
“It doesn’t matter,” Storm stopped him. “She agrees. You are part of the family now Sirio, so you have as much to lose as myself. Rumors are killers, remember that. They can kill you in the present, but sometimes they’ll kill you in the future as well.”
Don’t write everything down was his meaning.
Sirio stood back alarmed and then nodded. “I understand my Lord.”
> Lord Storm Nattas wrote extensively to Prefect Faustus Ligur, now in charge of rebuilding the First Legion in Alden and asked him to redouble his efforts. He spend the first month navigating the rising hostility between the Kingdom’s Lords trying to build bridges and mend their grievances.
>
> Lord Holt remained skulking in Asturia, stubbornly refusing to relinquish the Fourth Cohort and its recruits citing a danger to his Northern borders and rising tensions with the Lakelords.
>
> Lord Sula and Lord Ursus had men stationed at each other’s borders, which made traveling between the neighboring cities and down the coastal road troublesome. Prince Jeremy asked to return to Alden, but his request was refused which angered in turn Sir Rik, the knight was following the young Prince everywhere with his detachment from Scaldingport.
>
> The Queen Regent moved to Lord Doris palace, after her old quarters were repurposed, as she couldn’t handle climbing up and down the White Tower to attend her daily obligations.
>
> Aegium was flushed with visitors those days, as people still came to pay their respects to King Alistair’s widow and carve themselves a position into the new administration, or a Barony. Elevating Lord Nattas was seen as a welcomed opening at first for those having the coin and ambition to climb the social ladder even more, but soon rumors started to spread.
>
> For good, or bad, Lord Nattas had a certain reputation. Whilst late Queen Vacia favoring the young orphaned teenager could be glossed over, the young Alden widow showing even more favor to the more mature version of him wasn’t as easily palatable. Was it justified? Difficult to say.
>
> Perhaps the worst was the Queen Regent’s unconvincing mourning of her late husband. Common people can understand simple emotions much faster than the nobility and the Queen for unknown reasons, though those would soon be apparent, wasn’t grieving at all.
>
> Quite the contrary and despite her desperate efforts to hide it, she was beaming.
Part IIB
The strong breeze made the waves rush on the sandy beach and assault the slopes of the plateau turning to white froth. The warm wind smelling of distant lands and tasting of salt.
Storm placed the scroll on his desk and rubbed his tired eyes, the sheer curtains covering his first floor windows stirring, the night bringing the sounds of young men and women daring the waves to this late hour. Aegium, much like Novesium and Demames were cities that loved the warm nights with a passion.
Despite Uher’s efforts to stomp out these practices, the influence of the Old Gods had turned to a love for Naossis for Aegium and Novesium, Tyeus for Demames, leaving the Godsfather basically ignored from the people living at the Lorian coast.
Storm had singlehandedly almost a year back rooted out Uher’s encroachment in the city of Alden and the priesthood hadn’t recovered yet. Nattas reached for a goblet of lukewarm wine with a groan of pain. His back was hurting him lately and the leg whilst working, was still a swollen mess every night.
He pushed back on his armchair and closed his hurting eyes, the light coming from the oil-lambs bothering him. Storm thought of Miranda that was getting worn out to the bone by the vultures circling the throne of Regia and Lucius that was fuming in the North surrounded from all sides. The High King giving another go at invading Eplas and young Jeremy unwittingly waiting to be thrown to the wolves. Regia can’t fight broken apart like this, he decided and opened his eyes, the tall thin man with the dusty boots standing in his office nodding once, when Storm gawked at him.
Abrakas cock rots in a fuckin’ jar.
The hooded man’s narrow face vaguely familiar.
Ah.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Storm gasped and dropped his empty goblet on the table trying to get up from his armchair. “How did you get in?”
Larn pushed the hood off of his face, revealing horrifically maimed ears and a completely shaved off head and eyebrows. He looked like a handsome ghoul, which was twice as upsetting to Nattas eyes.
For fuck’s sake.
“You remember me,” Larn noted instead of answering his questions. Storm puffed his cheeks out and collapsed on his chair again. Was Secundus awake? Would the guards at the door reach him in time if he called on them? “There’s no need for that,” The man reassured him, reading the thoughts on his face.
Storm stared at the bottle of Flauegran he’d half-finished earlier. “Mind if I have a cup? You almost gave me a heart attack. There’s a chair next to the door.”
“I’ll stand,” Larn replied. Yeah, Storm remembered him. Maja’s ‘friend’ from Alden, or something. Well he ain’t no bard that much is blatantly obvious, he thought eyeing the vast array of weaponry visible on the assassin’s double harnesses.
“You want a goblet?” He offered.
“I don’t much like it,” Larn replied. “Of the three season’s wines it’s my least favorite.”
“Three seasons in the old calendar,” Storm said slowly pouring some into his own goblet after setting it upright. “As in the two lost Imperial recipes? Where in all gods were you served those?”
“The place has closed down,” Larn replied. “It’s not some grand secret Lord Nattas.”
“People would start a war for it, where I’m from,” Storm said tasting the bitter-sweet wine.
“People would start a war for many stupid things,” Larn replied and scratched his forehead with a long finger. “Where’s is… Maja?”
Ah, there it is.
“On a mission,” Storm replied. “I’m uncertain on her exact whereabouts.”
“Who do you want killed?” Larn asked him without hesitation.
“I’m not sure she would agree revealing it,” Storm replied. “Or why I should agree, other than the obvious reason of me avoiding getting assassinated in my house.”
“It’s not your house,” Larn corrected him.
“That’s true.”
“Someone high up the ladder,” Larn translated his earlier answer without hurrying. “Dangerous for her, so she’ll take her usual ungodly long time to hatch an elaborate plan,” Yeah, that’s our Maja alright, Storm agreed a little amazed at the man’s perception. “Dangerous for you, but it appears you’re a man that likes to stick his head out, with no fear of the downing blade.”
Storm stood back on his chair, all his limbs buzzing and gulped down slowly.
“Sometimes you have to act,” He managed to say.
“That’s true. You told her something, she didn’t reveal to me. What was it?” Larn asked him.
“Are you her partner? Her boss?”
“Plug the leaks Lord Nattas,” Larn told him, his face a blank mask. “Secure the doors you’ve opened afore your ship goes under. Speaking of a ship… what did Barlow want?”
Hmm.
“He bought a ship through me,” He told Larn. Storm wasn’t going to get killed for such a small thing. “But it left Caspo O’ Bor empty a couple of months back, or more. I have the report.”
“Where to Lord Nattas?”
“Castalor, but nothing was loaded but for meager supplies,” Storm replied reaching for the locked drawer where he kept the sensitive reports. He checked all the missives briefly. “It sailed West from there,” Storm said. “Nothing more, the ship was difficult to approach and no one came down but his Captain. A man named ahm…”
“Holmes,” Larn said. “And the ship had its load on already.”
Right. What the fuck is going on here?
“What was it?” Storm asked him, but the strange man stood back and shook his head. Something moved near Storm’s window and when Nattas looked a bit closer he saw a hideously scarred small boy hidden behind the curtain, looking at him with a greedy eye, the other hidden behind a small leather patch.
Foul Ticu diving to Abrakas fuckin’ gullet
Bring out arms ‘n skulls dressed in silver ‘n gold
“What in the name…?” Storm gasped horrified, almost dropping his wine on his lap.
“That’s Toutatis,” Larn explained. “He’s relatively harmless, but the load on that ship isn’t.”
“Can we stop it from reaching…?” Storm stared at a map of the Scalding Sea showing both continents. “I don’t know. Eikenport?”
Larn grimaced, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You have birds reaching there directly?”
“I have a man on Eplas and I can squeeze an arm or two, but nothing in Eikenport,” Storm replied. “The Merchant Guild obviously has a bigger reach.”
“How soon can you send a missive through them?”
“In a few hours, I’ll have a man request it,” Storm replied. “What is the message?”
“I’ll deliver it in person,” Larn retorted. “It is better to rule from the sidelines Lord Nattas,” He added, before turning towards the watching creepy boy. “Toutatis, we are leaving. Put that knife down.”
Ugh.
“I’ll notify the guards,” Storm said getting up, relieved the night visit was over. “Just to avoid any misunderstandings. How can I reach you mister Larn, if work comes up in the future?”
“You have enough of the Guild working for you Lord Nattas,” Larn replied, pausing at the door. “Don’t be sentimental. Plug your leaks.”
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This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
The morning found a restless Storm sweating in his expensive black doublet, Secundus’ scowling face staring back at him. The weathered hired blade’s visage disturbing.
“Sir Tatum?” His man repeated with a grunt.
“The man knows too much,” Storm explained patiently. “He must go.”
“Isn’t he the Queen’s guard?”
“He visits his late sister’s children every afternoon,” Storm repeated again to get back on track.
“What happened to the father?”
“He was killed. The man served with the First Cohort,” Storm replied. “Now the boy is young, but the girl is eleven so I don’t know, she might remember your man.”
Secundus grimaced. “Kill the children?”
“Other than selling them to slavers, I can’t unfortunately find another way. Your man has a problem with it?”
Sudi rarely voiced such objections.
“Isn’t there another way?” Secundus insisted.
No I went straight for murder.
Is he fuckin’ serious?
“You think I enjoy this?” He admonished him. “Everyone that knows something may open his fucking mouth even as we speak,” Storm hissed and rubbed his face hard to fight off his drowsiness.
The bad taste in his mouth remained though.
“Sudi knows,” Secundus pointed. “Myself.”
Sudi is loyal ye cretin!
He was also up to his neck involved already.
“Sudi is in Moon’s Haven. I’ve sent for him and you… well, I can’t see you talking. Am I mistaken? You better tell me now, you owe me that fuckin’ much!”
“People will be suspicious. The dead squire, the King’s sword missing,” Secundus counted. “Now a dead knight of the Queen’s guard. A couple of children.”
“What’s the alternative my good man?” Storm asked him. “Spare them? What if they talk? Can you make it happen on the streets? In the middle of the day? Because we can’t exactly murder the man standing next to the Queen. She might question it.”
“Does she agree?”
“Are you an idiot?” Storm countered.
“The city guard are loyal to Lord Doris. This could go wrong,” Secundus argued.
“When is Sudi arriving?”
“Within the week.”
Plug the leaks.
“How many of your men do you trust completely?” He asked him.
“Three,” Secundus replied. “Pay them enough, they’ll keep their mouth shut.”
Well, there’s a cheaper way to do that.
“What about the others?”
“They are not soldiers, milord,” Secundus replied. “You’ll need to utilize your subjects for that.”
I haven’t exactly won them over yet.
“Let’s just let the few villagers I rule over guard my lands for the time being Secundus.”
“Were he to leave the palace later in the day, or night,” The man started. “Then it might be easier to ambush him in a side alley.”
“What will he be doing in a side alley?” Storm asked, while working a plan in his mind.
He wasn’t a villain out to murder children, if there was an alternative.
“He won’t enter it voluntarily milord,” Secundus replied. “Nor will he leave it.”
Right.
“Next,” Lord Nattas said and stooped over his papers, several names on the list.
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Miranda blinked once surprised. “A trip Lord Nattas?” She asked, glancing at the royal scribes dutifully writing down his suggestion. She sat back on her throne and gathered her hands on her lap. “Of the coast you say?”
“Exactly your grace,” Storm replied and stared at Lord Doris frowning. “Strengthen your image, galvanize your subjects and perhaps quiet down some of the Lords that are restless now.”
“It’s not a terrible idea,” Lord Doris agreed. “A serious preparation must take place before that though, which could strain our balance for the year.”
“We can make it cheaper, Lord Treasurer?” Storm asked him.
“I’m not sure it befits the Queen Regent,” He replied. “Hauling her down the coast without the proper honors Lord Shield.”
“Of course, it was perhaps too ambitious of me,” Storm readily retracted.
“It will also be tiresome,” Miranda said, looking at him.
Storm hadn’t the time for a personal visit these past weeks, nor did he want to risk it. At least she looks healthy, he thought keeping his face blank.
“How about a visit to the Salt Fields, your grace?” Mayor Lucas suggested. “Your presence will boost the morale.”
“It’s dreadfully hot and too busy to have her standing there for hours, climb up the salt mount and return Mayor Lucas,” Lord Doris intervened again. “Work must be suspended, carts rerouted to the city, merchant convoys send back, or paused. Ah, you’re putting a knife in my neck now.”
“How about have her visit the city?” Storm suggested. Miranda hadn’t stepped a foot out of the palace for a month. “Have her grace cross the main road, to the gates and perhaps to the White Sands beach. She can stay at your estate there Lord Doris and return the next day.”
Sir Barnard stepped forward and cleared his throat.
“A heavy escort must be arranged, milords,” The leader of the Queen’s guards said. “If her grace stays outside the city proper, we must secure the approaches.”
“Our city is very secure, Sir Barnard,” Lord Doris repeated the much loved mantra of the locals.
“The road isn’t milord,” Sir Barnard replied standing firm. “And staying outside the palace grounds—”
“My estate is equally safe, Sir Barnard!” Lord Doris grunted. “I have protected my sister for years without problem!”
“Undoubtedly milord, but her grace wasn’t Queen Regent then,” The hale knight insisted.
“Sir Barnard is concerned her staying the night might alert certain cutthroats,” Storm said.
“What cutthroats?” Lord Doris snapped glaring at him.
“Out of town elements,” Storm continued given the chance. “Ruffians sneaking inside your city milord during the night, ambush the Queen Regent on the return trip. However small that trip may be.”
Lord Doris frowned so much his eyebrows turned into a continuous thing on his forehead, but kept his mouth shut for a moment.
“There’s a simple solution to that of course,” Storm said.
“Yes?” Lord Doris asked.
“Well, we could make sure we post trusted men on the route.”
“There are several approaches to the city, but for the main road,” Mayor Lucas murmured thoughtfully.
“Ten, twelve?” Storm chanced although he knew. “A large group won’t sneak in up the slopes, but they might come from the major road arteries east and west. We can post men and patrols for a night, make sure no one tries to sneak in after the news spread. As you’ve said Lord Doris those already in the city are of known character.”
“The City guard can secure those approaches,” Lord Doris agreed.
“I would place my own men on the East road,” Storm said and turned to Sir Barnard. “You should take it upon yourself to guard the West road up to the gates.”
“Of course Lord Nattas,” Sir Barnard agreed, relieved some measures were taken. He didn’t want to lose another King, or Queen under his watch.
A good man.
“It’ll be better to use every knight you have at your disposal Sir Barnard. Don’t play favorites here,” He advised him. “Rotate them through the night to keep them rested. It will be good to get them out of the palace and onto the night air for once. I doubt any daring thugs would be a problem for them.”
> On a curious note that tumultuous second month of Spring, the year 190 of the New Calendar, Sir Arthur Tatum got up on his horse to patrol the road coming from the Salt Fields a couple of nights later and vanished without a trace.
>
> The Queen Regent was hit hard by the disappearance of the loyal man, the knight being with her since she was a little girl, but a series of events happened right after and the knight’s curious disappearance was forgotten.
Part IIC
Almost four weeks later Storm knew something wasn’t right, when Miranda failed to appear for a third straight day citing illness. Pressed by a furious Sir Turner, who protested Lord Sula’s encroachment on his borders with a sizeable force, Lord Doris asked him to call for the Queen Regent to come to the throne room and placate Novesium’s envoi.
“I won’t bother her grace whilst she’s unwell, Lord Doris,” Storm hissed after the man had left empty-handed to return that afternoon. “Nor can I just barge into her quarters and drag her here!”
“I’ll do it,” Lord Doris snapped.
“The Queen is not to be disturbed,” Sir Barnard repeated with a scowl addressed to both of them.
“I’ll go up there,” Storm sighed and got up from the throne. “Talk to her maids, see if she can make a brief appearance, just to get him out of the way.”
“We could order Lord Sula to bring his forces behind the border,” Lord Doris said.
“Who is going to determine where that border is?” Storm asked him. “They are fighting for control of the Salty River and its bridge Lord Doris. We can’t exactly split the river in half.”
“Lord Sula can’t have men posted there,” Lord Doris insisted.
“The moment he takes his men away, Lord Ursus will have guards posted there in his stead.”
Lord Doris rubbed his aged face with both hands frustrated.
“See if you can have my sister come down,” He said tiredly. “Tell her this isn’t the time to have one of her tantrums.”
Storm had no idea Miranda had those in her youth.
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“STAY BACK!” Miranda shrieked hysterically the moment he made to come inside.
Storm frowned in bewilderment, planted his feet and glanced at Marcela, the handmaiden staring at her sandals.
“She sounds healthy,” He commented lacing his hands behind his back.
“She was sick just now,” The servant elucidated.
Hmm.
“A stomach bug? Something she ate?” He tried to guess aloud, as the Queen had been rumored to gulping down her food lately.
Nothing beats the homegrown foodstuff of your youth.
“I wouldn’t know milord.”
“Is the Dottore here?” Storm asked.
“Last night milord.”
Too busy to come during the day? Are you fuckin’ kidding me?
“What did he say?”
“Eh, he wouldn’t talk to me milord.”
Of course. A consummate professional.
Probably jerking off after each visit.
“I have my own Dottore. I can have him examine her,” Storm said. “It’s all them flowers and this heat. I have a headache half the time.”
“Marcela send him in!” Miranda yelled from her bedroom.
“She’s fine milord,” The servant said and stared at him knowingly.
Storm didn’t like that look at all.
This little bitch knows!
Fuck.
He pressed a strained smile on his face and walked inside.
Miranda was sitting on her desk, looking flushed and healthy. Even her cheeks had filled up nicely and if she was curvaceous before, now her thin nightgown was stretched to its limit at the top.
That’s a lot of woman!
I haven’t seen her naked in a while, Storm thought trying to keep his mind on the servant that needed to go as well.
“I’m sick,” Miranda said, looking at her hands. “I tried to tell you. You know, with looks?”
Lord Nattas had no idea what she was talking about, his mind drawn to a thousand directions.
“Is it serious?” Storm asked her snapping to the present.
“What? No… it isn’t,” She smiled, creating dimples on her rosy cheeks that could turn a monk into a satyr.
Storm having already reached the satyr stage felt his cock hardening in his pants.
Abrakas there’s important work to be done here!
“Well then,” He said quickly. “You need to come down and listen to that fool from Novesium, afore sending him packing right back. Maybe sign a letter of reaffirming the bridge’s ownership to both of them.”
“Can it wait?” She asked him.
Ugh.
“No. The man is like a bad flea, he just won’t shut up about it.”
Miranda sighed. “It’s too hot today.”
Storm almost rolled his eyes. “Are you feverish?”
She shook her head right and left, blond curls dancing in the well-ventilated room.
“I will come down,” Miranda finally said. “But you’ll have to promise you’ll come in my quarters tonight.”
“Miranda… I can’t,” Storm sighed. “I want to, but this is dangerous.”
“It doesn’t matter,” She murmured.
What?
“Of course it does,” Storm said very alarmed at the implications. “Your servant knows something. She must be removed.”
Miranda frowned and raised her head to look at him.
“What do you mean?”
Abrakas you piece of stinking shite!
Roll it back.
“She might talk Miranda.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
She’s a rat-faced cunt.
“So what… have her… what did you mean earlier?”
“Send her to Moon’s Haven what else?” Storm said quickly, a life of lying under pressure coming handy. “So we are certain.”
“Oh Storm, it doesn’t matter, eventually they’ll know,” Miranda said and wiped her face and eyes.
Is she crying? Are ye bloody kiddin’ me?
“Pull yourself together,” Storm told her. “Get down in the throne room and then we can think of a proper way to fix this.”
“Fix?” Miranda asked him worried.
Argh.
“I meant drawing up a plan dear,” He told her and clutched her hand back when she reached for it over the table. Miranda was burning up.
“I’ll have a Dottore sent here immediately,” Storm decided.
“No,” Miranda stopped him. “I will be right down. I’ll need to dress a bit.”
It’s a furnace down there!
But Storm just grunted and left her to prepare.
“Is everything alright milord?” Marcela asked him and Storm paused to look at her.
“Marcela is it?” He queried.
“Yes milord.”
“I may need something brought to the Queen Regent later,” Storm told her smiling thinly. “Would you be so kind as to bring it yourself?”
Your thread is loose Lord Nattas, the late King had said.
So many holes.
Plug the leaks, the assassin had advised him.
What comes after her? Who are you going to kill next? King Alistair asked again, his voice reverberating in the halls of his brain.
“Ahm, where from milord?” She asked a little apprehensive.
“The kitchens,” Storm said grinding his teeth, seeing the building’s layout in his head. “The door facing the sea.”
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Miranda covered in a loose thin cloak as if she was cold barely managed to talk with Sir Turner for a couple of minutes, before abruptly getting up and rushing to her quarters citing another bout of her sickness.
“The Queen Regent is unwell,” Storm announced to the protesting and murmuring crowd gathered to watch her rare appearance. Mostly merchants wanting to petition for an expansion to the local markets and an early start to the coming summer festivities, now back on the menu after King Alistair had canceled them, since with her being present in Aegium the city was bristling with visitors.
“What’s the matter with her?” Someone asked from the back.
“She looked pretty well to me,” Another commented and Storm glared at him.
“What’s this?” He barked furious. “Are we savages? It’s not a laughing matter gentlemen! We must give her the time to recuperate.”
“What about our petitions?” A merchant asked, dealing in liquor. “I’ll have to decide on the orders afore the festivals begin Lord Shield.”
“I’ll have them looked at immediately,” Storm replied with a sigh. “Before the end of the week. I’m optimistic we’ll have no problems. This will be a summer of profit gentlemen!”
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Sudi looked like he’d been run over by a wagon laden with salt ore, but somehow still stood on his two feet, with the help of a cane.
“I hail the true Shield of the Realm,” Sudi greeted him with a rare toothless smile. It was a couple of hours after Storm had finished the rest of Miranda’s schedule for the day, himself running on fumes.
“The Queen panicked a bit back there,” Storm admitted. “Or overcompensated to keep me around. I would have been fine with the Barony.”
“What’s the problem chief?” Sudi asked him always perceptive.
“Rats abound,” Storm explained and stared at the empty throne room. “The talking kind. Where’s Secundus?”
“He had that thing,” Sudi replied vaguely, well-versed in backroom talk.
“Right. Well, are you up to date with our situation?”
“Sure. What do you want me to do about it?”
“Lay low, until I figure out who else might be involved,” Storm said and stretched his hurting back. “What happens in Moon’s Haven?”
“Lord Ursus sent some men at the bridge, but they haven’t crossed it.”
“Do we have men stationed there?”
“I have a couple of good hands.”
Cutthroats, Storm translated.
“The bridge?”
“Still ruined, I left it until we secure quarters for our men,” Sudi replied.
“How soon can the materials arrive?”
“I have three builder firms coming from Cartagen, two caravans of material, mainly timber and iron. Forty six wagons in all. The cost might have risen a bit.”
“How much?” Storm snapped.
“Nothing we can’t make back from using the stone quarry,” Sudi explained.
“We have a stone quarry?” Storm asked surprised.
“You have a mountain. People will dig in it,” Sudi replied with a shrug. “Plus a lot of wood at the near and game.”
“How many live in the village?”
“Originally not over a hundred, but several families are arriving. War orphans, injured veterans looking for work.”
“What work?” Storm asked.
“Well a one-armed man can knife you plenty, if he knows how to use a blade.”
True.
“We’ll repair the original settlers’ houses per the agreement,” Storm decided. “Make something more inexpensive for the rest of them, until we figure out what would be the best use of our resources. Have you an assessment on what the mountain has in its bowels?”
“I haven’t looked that deep chief, but the first thing people brought back was marble,” Sudi replied, just as two knights marched inside the hall, faces hidden under their helms.
Storm frowned and stared at the two knights quickly reach a side door that led to the upper floors.
“What?” Sudi asked him, seeing Storm scrunch his face creating even more wrinkles on it.
“Something is going on,” Lord Nattas hissed, every hair on his body raised.
His instincts screaming.
“I have our men at the door,” Sudi said.
“You think they got to Secundus?”
Was that it?
Abrakas you piece of vindictive shite!
Chopped down by a stupid cunt?
“I don’t know. Don’t think so, but since when do you care enough to stick around?” Sudi asked him. “This is an unfriendly city Chief. We are blind is the long and short of it. Let’s get out of here whilst they are still preoccupied. Regroup and think it through.”
“I can’t leave,” Storm said glaring at him irate, even angrier with himself for just realizing it.
“This is Lord Doris palace,” Sudi warned him, as if Storm was feeling all secure and cuddly being under the same roof with that snake.
“I can’t leave her,” He gasped seeing more knights coming in and Sudi stood back all stunned, before he nodded in understanding.
“What do you want?”
“Find a way out of the city and this palace,” Storm told him tensely and the first two knights returned coming out of that same door and started looking around energetically.
“A boat? How much force—”
“Any way Sudi. Like last time. Get to Sirio and send a bird to our people,” Nattas urged him, taking a breath when the two knights stopped and looked at him. “Go now you fool!”
“Lord Nattas,” The first knight said, an unknown square face squeezed inside that helm. “You are wanted in the Queen’s quarters.”
Huh?
“The Queen Regent asks for—”
“It’s the Lord Treasurer’s call milord.”
What the fuck? What is he doing in there?
“Lead the way,” Storm retorted without batting an eyelash.
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The narrow corridor couldn’t handle the amount of knights present. A tensed and sweating Storm recognized Sir Barnard the moment he entered inside Miranda’s quarters. Lord Doris was there looking bewildered, Miranda in a white silk dress, Sir Cato, Sir Turner, Sir Rik and an old man wearing glasses. Marcus Epolonious the late king’s Dottore.
Of all the people Storm didn’t expect to see there, the elderly physician being the most surprising. When had Marcus come to the city? Why? Storm expected Marcela to pop out of a secret door any moment now and point an accusing finger on him.
There he is, the still breathing servant would cry out. The man who fucks the Queen of Regia!
Storm felt the room dancing around him, as if he was on a boat already, black spots gathering in his field of vision, but he managed to remain upright through sheer will and dogged determination.
“Lord Nattas,” Sir Cato said. “Did you know about this?”
Storm almost bit his tongue off, but Miranda’s eyes swollen as if she was crying, stilled his spine.
“You have to be a little more specific than that,” He retorted in form.
“Lord Doris?” Sir Cato asked, obviously the angriest man in the room. Sir Turner and Sir Rik were smugly satisfied in contrast.
“The Queen is with child,” Lord Doris said with difficulty, his voice barely coming out.
Storm blinked once, then a couple of more times in quick succession. Lord Doris words not registering in his head. When they did partially, as he was still in shock, Storm replied on instinct.
“Is this not good news?”
“Lord Shield, the king is dead almost four months!” Sir Cato blasted him. “Was at the conference of Lords three months afore that!”
So a bit more than half a year, Storm counted still in shock. Seven months and change.
He cleared his throat that ulcer in his stomach returning, Miranda looking at him, which made it all the more difficult to come up with something plausible.
Alas there was nothing.
Storm stared at the old Dottore and the old man returned his stare with outright hostility.
Fuck.
“I can’t believe this,” Lord Doris said.
“Everyone out of the room now!” Sir Barnard barked and several knights started exiting, lots of metal and weapons clanging whilst they did.
“Who was it?” Lord Doris blasted his sister, changing character once most of the witnesses were out of the room. “Was it Sir Tatum? Is that why he up and disappeared?”
Miranda retreated towards her bed and sat on it, her hands over her belly.
“Any of your other knights Barnard?” Sir Cato asked.
“I resent the accusation Sir Cato!” The hale man growled. “Take it back at once!”
“Speak gods curse you!” Lord Doris shouted out of his mind, getting angrier by the moment.
No.
Oh, my gods, Storm thought, as his brain started working and Miranda seeing that he had figured it out at last started sobbing her eyes out. Storm saw a small boy running on the sands, trip and fall on his face. The dream as real as that first time.
You vindictive son of a bitch!
“Cut it out,” Lord Doris decided and Miranda let out a scream and rolled on the other side of her bed to get away. “Sir Barnard, seize my sister! Sir Cato help him out!” Lord Doris ordered. Sir Barnard grimaced, but Sir Cato moved decisively towards the screaming Queen Regent.
“Stop this!” Storm cried out, drenched in sweat, his eyes ogling more desperate than scared, although he was plenty scared as well. “Sir Cato stay away!”
“Lord Nattas, we can’t have her bring it to term!” Sir Cato argued, as if anyone cared what he thought.
“It must be done, Nattas,” Her brother agreed. “The scandal will ruin us. It’s indefensible.”
“You’ll kill your sister Lord Doris!” Storm snapped at him. “That’s a death sentence.”
Lord Doris stood back and clenched his jaw.
“She’s done it onto herself,” He justified it.
You sick fuck.
Sir Cato started moving again and Sir Rik turned to stare at Sir Barnard with a daring eye, a hand on the pommel of his sword, the Queen’s Guard visibly torn between duty and orders.
“I can’t let you do this,” Sir Barnard gasped and unsheathed his longsword. Sir Rik De Weer doing the same and Sir Cato pausing after he’d cornered a still screaming and wild Miranda on the other side of her bed. The Queen had grabbed a large candleholder and was brandishing it in front of her.
“Get those blades sheathed for fuck’s sake!” Storm yelled at them both. “Have you lost your fucking heads? There is a way!”
“What way Lord Nattas?” Lord Doris mocked him. “Do you hope she’ll lose it? I wager ye she’ll deliver it, just like her mother. That and bedding men are her specialty.”
“Fuck you!” Miranda snapped at him furious. “Peddled me alike a prize horse in my cradle you piece of shit!”
“See there it is, her true character unveiled,” Lord Doris said shaking his head vindicated in front of the others. Had Storm had his sword on him, he would have run him through. All things considered, it was a good thing he didn’t, as explaining that on top of everything else would have been nigh impossible.
“She’ll step down,” Nattas managed to say, but no one listened to him, so he cleared his throat and repeated the words. Miranda stared at him hurt.
Whether it was for not supporting her more, or his suggestion, Storm didn’t know.
He was preoccupied with saving them both.
“What?” Lord Doris said surprised, whilst Sir Rik smacked his lips intrigued.
“You heard me.”
“Lord Nattas, if she delivers a bastard, people will get up in uproar,” Lord Doris said, as if he was talking to an idiot.
“Yeah and it’ll put even more pressure on Jeremy,” Sir Rik agreed.
“There was no agreement that Prince Jeremy would assume the throne!” Sir Cato blasted him, turning around and focusing his attention on Sir Rik. “Lord Sula won’t bend the knee!”
“Then Lord Sula would lose his head,” A silent until now Sir Turner said.
“She can deliver it away from preying eyes,” A desperate Storm tried again, loud enough to be heard.
“That’s not a solution!” Sir Rik growled and Sir Turner agreed with him.
“She could fail her pregnancy,” Storm argued and Miranda gasped horrified at his words. “But she may still survive.”
“Why do you care?” Lord Doris asked him and stood back narrowing his eyes.
It’s my mess and my son in there.
“I’m the Queen’s Shield by her grace,” Storm said simply, staring at the old Dottore, who gave him a small nod of approval. “Where she goes, I’ll follow.”
“You’ll resign?” Lord Doris said, adding with a smirk figuring it out. “Both your positions?”
Storm smacked his lips and grimaced.
“Aye. I’ll get her to her estate,” He lied and Lord Doris eyes told him he’ll never make it out of the city.
“Lord Sula will learn of this atrocity,” Sir Cato said gravely and walked out fuming.
“Sir Barnard can you take the Queen Regent for a walk in the gardens? She needs the air,” Storm said and the knight nodded with his head, his sword still drawn.
“Your grace?” He asked and Storm looked at Miranda to let her know there wasn’t time to take anything, or even argue. It was now or never.
Assuming Sudi has come through.
“Lord Nattas, I’ve waited a long time to say this,” Lord Doris told him and there was plenty of hate on his face now and a perverted delight. Sir Barnard led a worried Miranda out of her bedroom. “Hand over your symbols of office. You are done.”
Someone was heard running up the stairs, then bursting inside the anteroom, whilst Storm handed Lord Doris the badges he had on him blankly.
“Can I go now?” Storm asked him when he’d finished.
“Haha,” Lord Doris sniggered. “No you can’t. You’re going straight to the dungeon, but fear not you won’t—”
Someone banged on the door hard. “What?” The Lord Treasurer barked irate. “What is it?”
Storm felt renewed hope for a touch of divine intervention.
Even non-believers have to believe in something.
“A missive from Scaldingport,” The sweaty squire said breathing heavily. “For Sir Rik De Weer.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Give it here,” Sir Rik said and sheathed his sword to read the missive. He clasped his head and stumbled a couple of steps shocked after he did.
“What happened?” Lord Doris asked nigh perturbed, seeing the man reeling.
“There was an attempt on the King’s life,” Sir Rik murmured still in shock. “Antoon stands gravely injured.”
Hahaha!
Thank Abrakas the all merciful.
“Get Lord Nattas downstairs immediately,” Lord Doris ordered Sir Turner.
“Milord?” Sir Turner protested, not likening being ordered around by another lord.
“Hand him over to one of the guards at the base of the stairs good grief! The man’s a known cripple!” Lord Doris blasted him and snatched the message out of Sir Rik’s shaking hands. “Give me that,” He growled and started reading it, disbelief written all over his face.
> It was said that two days before the Queen Regent of Regia stepped down for scandalous reasons, if we are to believe the gossip of the time, King Antoon raced up the stairs of mighty Gold Tower in Issir’s Eagle responding to a call for help by the heavily pregnant Queen Nienke.
>
> The Queen was fine, the call either bogus, or an unfortunate mistake and the High King probably a little vexed for going up four floors for no reason, hurried back down the stairs again to return to his interrupted war council. He either tripped doing it, or he was shoved and made the return trip in no time, although not all the way down. Antoon finally stopped on the third floor, managing to break both his arms and legs, crack his head open and impale himself with a wooden shaft right through the guts, despite wearing armor. The inoffensive tool just happened to be left there from the previous night by a forgetful cleaning crew.
>
> Allegedly.
>
> Baron of Moon’s Haven Storm Nattas, had resigned his position as well at the time, a little known fact due to the timing of the events that followed King Jeremy’s ascension to the throne of Regia.
>
> King Jeremy Alden ‘the Lacking’, second of his name, was in his seventeenth named year at the time.
>
>
>
> Lord Sirio Veturius
>
> Circa 206 NC
>
> The Fall of Heroes
>
> Chapter XXV
>
> (Three years)
>
> King Jeremy Alden
>
> Last month of Spring 190 NC