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‘So I respectfully ask for your lady’s forgiveness’
King Lucius Alden
Circa winter of 193 NC
*Excerpt from a personal letter kept in the Ballard’s Castle archives in Lesia.
Addressed to the High Baroness Lila Lennox.
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Lucius Alden,
‘Bloody Tiger’
Lord Lucius Aldenus the third,
Praetor Maximus,
King Lucius III
The winter of the two Kings
Part II
-A lady's forgiveness-
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[https://i.postimg.cc/HL0PfV4b/2kings-arc.jpg]
Sirio started after Prefect Trupo and the others but paused to cast a look of desperation towards his commanding officer Ramirus. Lucius caught their exchange and a little annoyed with his tomfooleries stopped him.
“Mister Sirio is there something that makes it difficult for you to concentrate? Your presence is not really needed in these meetings and can be easily replaced!”
“Answer the King Sirio,” his uncle grunted.
Sirio blinked like a fish washed ashore, mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out.
“If I may shed some light,” Ramirus intervened. “Sirio has a theory about the affair.”
“Does it pertain to the matter of Lesia’s truce proposal?” Lucius asked the LID officer with a glare as he had enough with the younger Veturius’ inability to handle even small amounts of pressure.
“It’s not clear. I don’t believe so,” Ramirus replied scowling at his subordinate. “It is about the ring and mister Grogan.”
“We have important matters to discuss here!” Galio barked furious. “Get back to camp Sirio!”
“Stay where you are mister Sirio!”
With a booming voice Lucius had belayed that order.
The king of Cartagen rapped his fingers on the table looking at the two nervous LID officers. “Have you seen the ring?” He asked in a composed manner.
“I have it here Praetor Maximus,” Ramirus replied and showed them a sculpted silver ring.
“I don’t recognize it,” Lucius said when Gripa brought it to him. “Is the skin on her arms covered in scales?” The creature crafted looked like a mermaid or a siren.
“Sirio claims the ring was worn personally by Baron Nattas the last time he saw him,” Ramirus explained.
Nattas.
Lucius worked the ring in his fingers. “I remember his signet ring with the laced tentacles and I see some of that on her head. But I don’t recall this ring. It’s been many years,” he paused. “What is the theory?”
“Grogan works for him according to Sirio,” Ramirus said. “Sent to warn us about the truce.”
In what way?
“Mister Sirio please explain to us, how would Lord Nattas know?” Lucius asked. “The leak must have come from your department Ramirus.”
“I had the proposal on me since I was approached,” Ramirus defended the agency. “The leak comes from Lesia not us.”
“Where is the Baron Sirio?” Lucius asked again disregarding Ramirus.
“The Baron was lost during Lord Ursus’ attack on Moon’s Haven or even earlier than that,” Sirio blurted out. “After he failed to take control of the city.”
“No contact?”
“Nothing my king,” Sirio replied with a small voice. “We feared he perished.”
This could be spoils taken from a corpse. But why approach me and not his family?
“Where is his nephew?”
“The City of Alden,” Ramirus replied.
“Your wife mister Sirio?”
“I don’t know,” Sirio said miserably. Lucius just couldn’t take him to his word hard as he tried.
Hmm.
“What does this Grogan say?”
“He’ll only talk to you Praetor,” Ramirus replied.
“Even if Lesia isn’t totally honest here,” Lucius started still rolling the ring in his fingers. “We need to deal with the threat Ligur poses to our supply lines. We’ll remain on high alert during the truce and watch them closely. The Barons will continue to monitor the situation.”
“If Kas and Storm’s Rest release their prisoners then we are talking over three thousand men returning to bolster their numbers,” Galio noted stiffly.
“It’ll be six months at least for those men to return and a long time for Lesia to retreat from Cartaport,” Lucius argued. “We can act in this window of opportunity Tribune. How useful are surrendered troops? I don’t see them eager to enlist again. Lesia has the numbers to attack now but simply doesn’t want to risk another defeat. It will be too close to home for them to sweep under the rug. The returning prisoners and lords could be read as a successful resolution with enough dressing.”
“How much dressing?” Galio asked.
“We’ll talk with the Duke,” Lucius replied. “He’s in Cartaport, naught but a day away. Having said that why was the offer signed by Admiral Lennox?”
“Internal strife? Disagreement? Pride?” Ramirus offered some basic reasons.
“He’s the old Shield’s son,” Lucius added the probable reason and the officer frowned. “It would be humbling, difficult to stomach or explain away.”
He remembered Di Cresta’s words about the Lennox weird hierarchy.
Lucius sure wanted to get his hands on Lord Ursus even though he’d managed to keep his mind off of the feelings of rage he harbored for the treacherous nobleman. He needed to remain objective much as it was possible.
“I’ll contact the officers at the south gates to order the army outside Cartaport to initiate negotiations,” Galio said sensing Lucius had reached his decision. “Macrinus would sent the Baron down the road and all the other prisoners. Valens doesn’t want them in the city though Mayor Messor found the idea of free penal workers excellent so removing them outright might calm those two down.”
“We can’t hold prisoners of war as slaves Galio. It is practiced by the Legion due to absence of dungeons and necessity. The Mayor needs to fund the repairs. Tax the merchants and himself for starters, they made absurd amounts of profit during the siege,” Lucius breathed out and returned his eyes on Sirio. “I really can’t see why Nattas would attempt to contact us this way. Why not be clear about it? What’s the angle?”
“The man might know your grace,” Sirio insisted.
“The man is a lowlife as I understand.”
“He has a smuggling and whore ring in Cartaport,” Ramirus elucidated. “The fall of the city might have helped even worse crimes remain hidden.”
“Why is he not in jail?” Lucius asked. “Works for him Sirio?” He knew Storm wasn’t always above water but why risk sending such a character near Lucius? What is this?
It reeks of desperation.
And absence of better options? Why? Sirio is right here. Family no less.
“He is at the moment. In jail that is,” Ramirus had replied. “Lord Nattas’ ledger of contacts has not been found by Sula and he scoured Moon’s Haven and his estate for anything useful.”
Sirio had a nervous tick on his pale face.
“I’ll see him. Arrange it,” Lucius replied pursing his mouth.
“Do we delay the talks your grace?” Ramirus asked.
“We can’t do that,” Lucius argued. “Ligur is stirring the pond and something might come loose. People are not objects you place on a map and expect to root there forever. Situation in the field might change. We have to be able to move and at the very least protect the Tunnel Pass. I need a counter proposal and a fresh plan of action on the Ligur matter by o-six hundred hours. That’s in three hours gentlemen. Get to work.”
“A counter proposal milord?” Galio asked to clarify it.
“Aye,” Lucius replied. “What we talked about ten months back still stands Tribune. Ligur hasn’t moved yet and this… we don’t know if this is a feint.”
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Lucius had slept for an hour on the couch outside the two bedrooms not to disturb his wives and then came down to have a quick breakfast. He studied the maps and read a couple of late night reports at the conference table. Gripa found him there when he got up an hour later and ate some of the surplus cold fried eggs Lucius hadn’t touched.
“There’s talk apparently,” Lucius started glancing at his aide who was now pouring a hot beverage into a couple of silver low cups. “That the mayor of Caspo O’ Bor lost control of the port. The city is split in two and the Guard is unable to push the crews away.”
“Is the whole fleet in revolt?” Gripa asked bringing the cups with the black liquid and leaving one near a tired-looking Lucius. “That’s a lot crews to deal with and marines.”
“Most of the rest is probably at Ripel’s Island and Bayspell.”
“Is the latter a port?” Gripa asked and sipped at the bitter coffee.
“In Cliffson Cay on the Free Isles,” Lucius replied and reached for his cup. “Where did you get that?”
“Found it in the kitchen. Cyrus Falx is making an inventory and I pored over it. The Queen’s people had brought a lot of novel stuff in without considering the cost,” Gripa replied. “Apparently it is imported from Eplas via Sinya Goras along some excellent wine. Salonius sells it instead of Flauegran. Slightly more expensive as well.”
Lucius tasted the bitter beverage. “Sinya… Goras,” he said slowly, the name unfamiliar.
“A port in Wetull,” Gripa elucidated. “Run by Zilan.”
Lucius narrowed his eyes and pushed back on the chair. “This sounds like a tall tale.”
“I am being serious milord. Poorly kept secret in court and the rich families. Scaldingport has ships coming in regularly.”
“Ships… from Wetull,” Lucius murmured trying to wrap his mind around it. “What is Kaltha doing about that?”
“I don’t believe Kaltha can deal with this right now.”
“They should in order to keep the treaties alive,” Lucius said. “Unless that’s over. My father knew. Did he die for it?”
“Antoon is half-dead or fully dead also depending on which report your read. Elsanne just won’t bend the knee and with the crews paralyzing the fleet, the young heir had to… that would be Lord Anker Est Ravn. He pulled forces from Colle to secure the capital and help Van De Aesst. Van Oord of Castalor has sided with Elsanne and might take advantage of that. If the king kicks the bucket now and they are forced to put young Antoon on the throne even maintaining the regency, things might turn uglier as the ‘Old Crow’ is rumored to fund Elsanne’s escapades. Kaltha is a mess.”
Lucius turned to stare at a large atlas of the two realms with a frown. “Hadn’t the Khan taken back Ri Yue-Tu?”
“He did in the summer,” Gripa replied.
“Why not sent forces to reclaim Eikenport?” Lucius asked thinking it through. “He has more assets there. Cities and markets disrupted… what’s in the north corner of Eplas?”
Ah, this is interesting, he thought.
“Roaming Icebergs?” Gripa chanced.
“The Ice Route. Open in the summer,” Lucius murmured. “There’s no other way around Eplas,” he glanced at his cup of coffee. “Unless he wants to deal with the Zilan.”
“The fleet will intercept anything that comes down,” Gripa said.
“What fleet?” Lucius queried his mind on both the Khan and the resurgent Zilan. “How many could be there you think? Why resurface now? All reports said they were extinct. Didn’t Framtond write, nothing but ghosts live there?”
“Never read that tale or much believed it. Life is more interesting,” Gripa replied and Lucius nodded.
“The Khan might attempt a landing,” Lucius murmured returning to the previous topic but stopped as Ramirus with two knights entered followed by Sirio and another LID agent. The man dragged a thoroughly roughed up man along.
Both his eyes swollen, the underside black and the left leaking blood. The earlobe on his right ear missing and burned to stop the bleeding. Three fingers badly broken on his left hand, he held protectively with his right.
“My lord this is Grogan,” Ramirus saluted and the burly agent, a legionnaire attached to the LID unit, shoved the beaten up man down to his knees.
“Stand up,” Lucius said and got up. A knight got his sword out and used it to motivate Grogan to stand. The man obeyed groaning and tried to concentrate on the approaching Lucius through bloodshot half-closed eyes. A Lorian. Long black hair tied at the nape and soaked clothes. Dressed in a dirty tunic and hemp shirt. “Do you know who I am?”
Grogan cleared his throat and spat on the floor, the knight with the sword landing a blow on his head with the other hand rattling the prisoner hard. He would have gone down but the LID agent grabbed him at the last moment.
“Do I need to repeat myself?” Lucius asked with a grimace.
Grogan shook his head right and left.
“Is that a yes?”
“No,” Grogan said raspingly. “Lord Lucius.”
“King Lucius,” Ramirus corrected him. “Or Praetor Maximus. That’s it.”
Lucius opened his arms wide suggestively. “Talk mister Grogan.”
“A message came…” Grogan started groggily still rattled from the blow and his injuries. “…from Rochstab.”
“Go on,” Lucius urged him.
Grogan grimaced. “A folder with a ring and some words,” he touched his left ear. The blow had reopened the wound there. “No rest for the wicked, it read milord and the King of Cartagen.”
Lucius scratched the upper part of his brow near the temple with the mid finger on his right hand. “Anything else?”
“That was it. I assumed it was for you. Since there are two kings around these days.”
“What does it mean?” Ramirus asked.
“It’s an expression Nattas used. He loves a good turn of phrase,” Lucius replied.
“The ring is legitimate then,” Gripa said. “It’s from the Baron.”
Lucius nodded. “Not a warning though,” he glanced at Grogan. “What is the Baron doing in Rochstab?”
Grogan grimaced. “Have no idea. I thought he was killed in Novesium. Sudi is in control now.”
“Who’s that?” Lucius asked, the name vaguely familiar.
“Just some dude milord,” Grogan said guardedly. Ramirus eyed his agent.
“It’s alright Ramirus. You can take him away,” Lucius said.
“Am I free to go milord king?” Grogan asked hopefully.
“Take him to a judge Ramirus,” Lucius said disregarding his query. “See that he’s punished accordingly. He’s not the legion’s problem now. Let a local magistrate deal with his likes.”
Ramirus grimaced but signed for his agent to take a protesting Grogan away. Another blow from the knights following after them silenced the smuggler.
“I can’t believe he feared ratting out on that Sudi character,” Gripa commented.
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“Criminals are like that,” Lucius replied. “Isn’t it strange Lesia has both Ursus and Nattas, yet offers only one in exchange?”
“You think Nattas works for them?”
“That’s not likely,” Lucius replied. “Why give himself away then? No, I think he’s being held up in Rochstab. It’s a small city like Anorum where a lot of former army and navy men retire.”
“Why keep Baron Nattas?”
“It might sound strange to you, but the closest person to our Baron was my mother,” Lucius replied. “The King of Lesia’s sister. I think Lesia wants to keep him there.”
“Will you ask them about it? He’s not important milord,” Gripa argued.
“I can’t just refuse to help him,” Lucius retorted. “The man has risked all he had in life to help me. This sword is in my hands because of Nattas Gripa. Lost his place in the council. He’s done as much as few other lords.”
“Would you call him a friend milord?” Gripa asked curious. “He’s not exactly of stellar reputation.”
Lucius remembered the smart-eyed younger Storm desperately trying to keep his ground against old Roderick to prove he could serve as a knight. He’d taken quite the punishment that day.
“Yes he’s a bit shady but he’s an old friend also,” Lucius replied. Storm had been in court since before he was born. “With all his faults he’s loyal to our family and my father afore me.”
Gripa nodded and stared at their cups. “Another coffee milord?”
“You know what? I don’t really fancy the stuff. Miranda’s taste was always weird,” Lucius decided.
“The kitchen says it was served with honey,” Gripa elucidated.
Lucius furrowed his brows. “How was the taste?” He asked and his aide grimaced, a shiver running through him.
His answer loaded.
“I rather drink her wine milord.”
Cyrus had gotten rid of the bottles as fast as he could emptying the cellar. Most of his staff and Lucius didn’t like it, while Gripa openly hated it. The syrupy-sweet white wine the former Queen had brought from Aegium enjoyed only by the Northmen who could literally drink anything with alcohol in it especially if it was free.
“Take the cups away,” Lucius decided.
> In early winter of the New Calendar 193 NC, the final months of the year, Lesia’s council was divided but under pressure to commit on a plan after it became obvious that Lucius, now ruling in Cartagen, would necessitate the expenditure of a lot more recourses to be defeated than originally thought. Not everyone was certain that it was possible and supplying the troops holding Cartaport was starting to wear the navy down while Flauegran’s produce was left unused in warehouses with the Barons forced to use manpower to reinforce the force blocking Lepidus Cohort.
>
> They had to drop their plans for a raid on Wetull but even so everyone was losing coin at alarming rates.
>
> Legatus Pintor proposed again to march across the Flats, skirt the forest at Flower Heights and attempt to cross Mabindon to cut Lucius off thus and split his force. It was overruled as the great river was at its deepest by this point and thoroughly flooded more than a kilometer on each bank. The strong all year long current making Mabindon unnavigable anyway.
>
> Fiorin suggested they strengthen Sir Napoli’s and Paris Riveras’ force at Sava but the King wanted to keep the army back fearing a collapse of the front. While they argued endlessly about another way to attack from two directions, Baroness Lennox ordered a strong force from Ballard Castle to march towards Sava immediately, but the Bank of Trust suggested a truce and hers was the only meaningful action.
>
> The bank was now in a deep financial hole having failed to deliver the war loan to Kaltha and in a heavy legal dispute with Lord Anker on whether he shared part of the blame since the navy was supposed to patrol the route but didn’t. The latter due to Castalor turning a blind eye to the pirates and Scaldingport all but outright endorsing them without openly saying it.
>
> While no party wanted to admit being in the wrong the Bank was short on coin since it needed to reimburse Lord Anker and honor the loan while funding the war effort for Lesia. Something had to give and it was easier proposing to King Davenport a cease in hostilities which would have allowed them to halve the pay for the men in the field and cut back on the navy’s considerable expenses.
>
> The King ordered Duke Lennox to negotiate with Lucius based on Lord Mortimer’s intelligence reports, but the Baroness of Ballard travelled to Cediorum, found the young Duke in his palace –he’d returned briefly as the situation inside Cartaport was bad- and berated him for a whole hour for completely dishonoring his father’s memory and the family name. The chastised Duke –Roman the 2nd- had no leg to stand on and returned to Cartaport refusing to comply with the King’s order.
>
> To avoid a nasty development Admiral Patrick Lennox –Lesia’s Lord of Sea- stepped in to sign the document with the Baroness cursing him to never step foot on land again. The Admiral could stomach the curse as he was living on his luxurious ship Talia anyway. The offer of a truce reached Lucius. It was built around an exchange of prisoners, mainly Baron Palma –now living in captivity for three years- and Baron Feld Frye captured at the Navel along around three thousand five hundred prisoners, mercenaries, cavalry and soldiers from Lesia’s side for Duke Ursus. The latter had asked for asylum from King Davenport and the King had agreed verbally but since the official paperwork wasn’t finished it got lost on the way from Armium and an adjutant announced to a stunned Duke Ursus his request had been denied for ‘security reasons’.
>
> The second item of the deal was Lesia’s departure from Cartaport and a return to former borders. It was a solid deal but Lucius rocked the boat when the two delegations first met at the farm village of Greenville –the village had been chosen for the negotiations and would eventually give its name to the agreement- when on the first day he asked for the release of Baron Storm Nattas. The former Regia’s Master of Silence had been held in loose captivity by Lesia in Rochstab after escaping Duke Ursus’ men under undisclosed circumstances but had managed to communicate with King Lucius via his contacts in the criminal underworld.
Admiral Patrick Lennox cut an arresting figure, his dark blue uniform with the white lapels nicely pressed and the cuirass’ front with the head of a stag engraved in silver on the dark-metal. His mostly black hair were cut short and he’d a thick but nicely trimmed beard with plenty of grey hairs peppering it. It gave him a rather dignified appearance the man maintained with refined if not a little pretentious demeanor.
He wasn’t Lord Miles Lennox by any stretch of the imagination but much of the old general, his more famed kin, was present.
“King Lucius,” Lesia’s Lord of Sea started, everyone present at the meeting more relaxed the second time around. Four days after the first, the hostilities had stopped and even the inn picked -the ‘Furry Ferret’- nicely cleaned out and repaired for the occasion. The abandoned village’s few streets bristling with soldiers and banners from both delegations. “Lesia would like to have a clear timetable on the return of the prisoners.”
Mayor Messor was present from Regia’s side, Barons Vendor and Valens, Tribune Veturius and several officers of the Third Legion. Sir Darius Davenport IV, Legatus Ettore Pintor of 2nd Legio and Lord Cornelius Mortimer of Stingray representing Lesia.
“You should send the fleet to Kadrek the moment the weather clears,” Lucius replied evenly sitting across the other edge of the rectangular table. Placed at the center of the room, it dominated the inn’s hall as it was the only table along the two smaller ones the scribes used. “Duke Redmond agreed to fully open the port again for Lesia. Trade shall resume in the summer as well.”
“This is agreeable,” the admiral said, his right hand resting on the leather gloves he’d placed on the table in front of him.
“Since one Duke was mentioned,” Lucius continued in a steady voice. “I’d like the Duke of Cediorum to sign the treaty as well.”
“You’ll have the King’s seal on it,” the Lord of Sea argued calmly. “Lord Mortimer has a letter sanctioning the action and has the seal with him.”
Lucius signed for Gripa to approach and his aide did, giving him a rolled up scroll, tied with a leather strip and sealed with a waxed seal as well. Lucius offered the scroll to one of the admiral’s aides. The navy man took it and brought it to his superior walking briskly.
“This is addressed to the High Baroness of Ballard,” the admiral said after reading the inscription scribbled on the outside.
“It is. I’d like the Duke of Cediorum to be present for the signing in a week’s time. I know he’s in Cartaport. Provided we agree on the point I’ve raised the previous time, it would help if he was present as well.”
“I’ll sent it immediately. Lady Lila is in Cediorum as it happens,” Lord Patrick said. “Why insisting on the matter?”
“I appreciate the King’s seal of approval but I’d like the Duke’s word as well. He’s the one attacking my city,” Lucius replied.
“It wasn’t your city my Lord when the campaign started,” the admiral argued.
“It was always my city good admiral,” Lucius countered without raising his tone. “The king’s palace is some kilometers to the south of here.”
“There are two Kings in Regia this winter,” Lord Patrick insisted. “This can be confusing, even weaken any agreement.”
“You’re here because Lesia wants to talk with the true king,” Lucius said. “And because I can reach Flauegran before your men climb the walls of Cartagen. Which they won’t. That ship has sailed admiral,” he continued and eyed the grimacing Legatus of the Second Legion. “But I can break through the force you have in Sava. I’ve beaten them once and I shall do it again. If I take the city, I may not even bother with Cartaport. Keep it. I control the roads and can start using it tomorrow, another port…” Lucius finished with an emphatic pause. “…I can find. Novesium has excellent facilities I can readily use while tightening the noose here and keep all your fleet busy doing supply runs.”
Lord Patrick worked at that goatee with his left hand fingers. A moment of silent contemplation. Lord Mortimer gave him a scroll and he read it.
“The matter of Storm Nattas, or Lord Nattas as you know him is sensitive in nature to the King. A personal matter. The throne would like your assurance this isn’t a prelude to an act of vengeance on your part. He had an agreement with your father. The late Queen, your mother King Lucius, saw him as close family. He worked as a stable boy on her horse and they were very close.”
“I’m aware of Lord Nattas’ relation with my late mother,” Lucius replied steadily. “I’ve known him for thirty years. I have no reason or intention to harm the man admiral.”
“Would you say the same for Duke Ursus?” Lord Mortimer asked, adding with fake humility. “Your grace?”
“Lord Ursus will be judged fairly,” Lucius replied. “He’s implicated in the plot to assassinate my father. They were successful as you well know Lord Mortimer.”
“I didn’t argue that your grace,” Mortimer said. “Merely pointing out the fact that the Duke—”
Lucius’ raised voice cut him off.
“I don’t recognize his title. It was given by an illegitimate administration,” he told the grimacing Master of Silence in a harsher tone. “Out of courtesy for the occasion I’ll allow your mistake to slide Lord Mortimer. But I won’t allow it a second time.”
“Apologies. I wasn’t aware of your feelings on the matter,” Mortimer said gulping down nervously. “Still, I’d like to have the point raised cleared. Will your grace spare the Lord of Novesium? He’s a nobleman.”
“The matter of Lord Ursus’ fate shall be decided outside of this room,” Lucius said stooping forward over the table. “Nattas isn’t in any danger for he wasn’t implicated in the plot. I want the man released because he’s a friend I’d like to see again. I could have kept that out but since you’ve brought personal matters at play Admiral, I believe I’m allowed the same courtesy. You’ve no prisoners to offer me, but I’ll have one of my mother’s friends returned as you’ve mentioned already.”
“I wasn’t trying to offend your grace,” Lord Patrick said with a glare at the sullen Lord Mortimer. “We agree on having Baron Nattas released into your care. The king trusts you’ll show the restraint befitting your family name.”
Lucius stared at the face of Lord Mortimer thoughtfully after nodding to the admiral’s words. What do you know Master of Silence? His eyes asked the Lesia official but the man pushed back on his chair and his expression turned blank.
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Lucius kept his eyes on the Lesia delegation departing Greenville taking the road to Cartaport through the lines of Lord Sula’s men. The energetic square-jawed man, clad in a chainmail shirt under a studded armor approached with large strides the king’s entourage. Drusus Sula was a sturdy character, now well in his fourth decade, but with the characteristic thick neck and stiff demeanor that run in the Demames family. It reminded him of Nonus but for the balding blond hair on his tanned uncovered head and a larger nose.
“King Lucius,” Drusus started brusquely, baritone voice carrying the accent of Regia’s south coast. “I hear there is agreement?”
“You heard correctly Lord Sula,” Lucius replied and nodded at the general’s salute.
“Mm, would the King consider the Duke’s proposal?”
That was it.
Drusus had gone straight to business.
“I haven’t had the time yet Lord Drusus but you’re free to reinforce your cousin,” Lucius replied evenly.
“Will the King travel with the army down the coast?” Drusus asked not satisfied fully with the answer.
“The king will travel with the army but not to Demames. The Duke will need to hold the fort down for a little while yet,” Lucius answered.
“The Duke is in Aegium,” Drusus said.
“We are well aware. Now, I take it the Duke is being cautious with my family’s property Lord Drusus, right?” Lucius noted.
Drusus scrunched his face. “Some damage has occurred your grace.”
“Are my cousins in good health?”
“They are in Demames,” Drusus replied vaguely.
“You understand that I expect no one touches any of the women?” Lucius queried sternly.
Drusus furrowed his thick blond brows. “Your grace, some of them need a touch of sanity delivered.”
Gripa gave him a scroll and Lucius checked on it briefly.
“Lady Riveras wrote me that Sir Opiter forced himself on Lady Sandra. Good grief Drusus!” Lucius said pursing his mouth.
“Shoved her your grace,” Drusus elucidated inflexibly. “Lady Riveras has her daughter’s tendency to exaggerate heavily.”
That was true but still…
“Why would a grown knight shove a young girl Lord Drusus?” Lucius grunted not liking playing with words.
“She slapped him.”
Eh.
“Did she have a reason for it?”
“He attempted to get her inside a carriage. She took offense. Sir Opiter took offense as well King Lucius.”
Lucius rubbed his neck with a hand. “Is she alright?”
“I don’t believe she is but aye she’s unharmed.” Lucius frowned at the wordplay. Drusus continued impervious. “Sir Opiter would like to send her along her mother and siblings here. He’ll keep hold of Baron Priam Alden of Saltville as leverage.” The petty baron was Sandra’s father, third cousin to Lucius.
Lucius didn’t want Lady Magdalena Riveras and her kids in Cartagen. He had a large enough and volatile household to increase it any further.
“Keep my cousins in Demames Lord Drusus.”
“The knight insisted in the strongest words your grace.”
Gods darnit Sandra, Lucius cursed.
“Uhm,” he murmured thinking it through.
“If the King could also give opinion given the chance on the matter of Novesium,” Drusus continued trying to get as much out of the meeting as he could. Lucius had been dodging him for months.
“The King would welcome his cousins in Cartagen but refrain from answering on the matter of Novesium,” Lucius replied stiffly. “The city belongs to Regia. A decision on who will assume control will come after the matter of Lord Ursus’ fate is resolved in a definitive manner.”
“That’s enough Drusus,” Baron Valens told the flushed Lord Sula. “The King needs to return to the city.”
Lucius breathed out and stared at Tribune Veturius.
“The Legion is preparing to depart?” He asked casually.
“Milord could stay and catch up with the army later,” Galio offered. “Marching and sleeping in camp can be tiresome. Surely more difficult than living in the palace.”
Lucius thought exactly the opposite. Staying with the legion was therapeutic almost.
“Well, we have a job to do still Tribune,” he replied clearing his throat and signed for an aide to bring Nightsilver to him. “Then we can rest and perhaps decide which is easier. I bet you it won’t even be close and I’m not a betting man.”
>
> A day later,
>
> Grand City Port of Cediorum
>
> Kingdom of Lesia
>
>
>
> The salty smell of the sea coming from the harbor couldn’t disguise the reek emanating from the large city. Heavy rain had doused the large streets of Cediorum. Washed some of the filth gathered at its corners or markets and unearthed even more.
>
> While the Duke’s palace was protected from its gardens and tall walls, she could smell the rotten smell of sin that plagued Lesia’s largest port. While cosmopolitan due to the heavy traffic and the many visitors that flooded it each season, the Baroness had come to dislike it. She preferred the quietness of her lands and the slower more rustic way of life back home. That mixture of freshness of the lush Stag’s Forest and the spicy bouquet of lemon trees near her family estate. All blending with the dry breeze blowing from the desert beyond the river.
>
> The direct, unpretentious people and the decency so absent near the coast here but also at the capital. Armium wasn’t much different, it just pretended better. Sir Trent the forty year old knight knocked on the side of her door once to get her attention. She turned her head to glance at him.
>
> “I’m at the balcony Sir Trent,” the Baroness told Emerson’s old squire. “Enjoying the view.”
>
> “Sir Melcher is here milady,” the knight of Ballard announced. He moved aside and the aged Shield walked vigorously past him. Melcher was over sixty now but hadn’t slowed down at all. He had served under her father for years and then her brother before continuing to help the Baroness run her domain.
>
> She couldn’t have done it without him.
>
> The grey-haired veteran walked outside to reach her and came to stand next to the expecting Baroness. He was well over a head taller than her, sturdy arms protruding from a strong plate-encased torso, but Lila had stopped fearing tall knights. The Black Elk of Ballard was engraved on the quality cuirass the knight had on and the powerful animal graced his familiar sword handle.
>
> “How is the view then?” Melcher asked her, the voice deep and powerful it reminded Lila of her father and missing brother.
>
> “Stone, mortar and bricks. Badly maintained roofs. What man builds pales in comparison to what nature creates,” she replied. “You’ve been at the Admiralty?”
>
> “They want an agreement,” Melcher said and searched inside his coat. He produced a crumpled scroll for her. The seal broken and badly replaced with fresh wax. “This is for you.”
>
> “They opened it?” Lila asked frostily.
>
> “Aye. They didn’t even appear shamed when I pointed it out. It’s a precaution allegedly.”
>
> “For whom?”
>
> “They fear you’ll push the Duke against the King,” Melcher cautioned her and she cracked a forced smile.
>
> “His wife begged me to intervene.”
>
> “They won’t remember that. Easier to blame you.”
>
> “The King can’t force the Lords of Andalus to comply, he’ll question the loyalty of his staunchest allies?”
>
> “The court is divided. Better not to ruffle their feathers lass.”
>
> “I’m not going to be cowered old hand,” she warned him.
>
> “I know it but they don’t. Let me bring the men back first.”
>
> Lila shook her austerely made head. She took a small breath, the tight corset restricting and painful and let it out slowly. She then returned the scroll to her Shield.
>
> “Read it for me,” Lila told him. The aged knight unfurled the scroll and started reading with a clear voice.
>
>
> To the esteemed ruler of Ballard Castle,
>
> Keeper of Stag’s Forest and Guardian of the Sands,
>
> High Baroness,
>
> Lady Lila Lennox.
>
> The time is late for these words for life deprived me of the opportunity to speak them sooner. To use it as an excuse to skirt away from my responsibility though is inexcusable and I won’t do it. I owe your respected family an apology Lady Lila because my actions done without malice and in the attempt to reclaim what had been taken from my person unjustly, cost the life of Duke Miles Lennox. Your uncle fell in the line of duty and despite my sincere efforts to prevent it, I couldn’t.
>
> I never started with the intention to wage war on your family Lady Lila nor cross swords with the family of my late mother. Circumstances brought strife and casualties disproportional to what I had initially planned. The fault lies with my person for I should had foreseen it. Unfortunately, even if I had though there was no other road left open for me to reclaim my father’s throne. I couldn’t shy away from a firstborn’s duty and your uncle couldn’t shy away from his.
>
> It pains me it came down to this for I never wanted this conflict but as I said even so the fault lies with my person. So I respectfully ask for your lady’s forgiveness. I can have a treaty signed without your grace’s blessing or that of your family but it would feel wrong. Enough wrongs have plagued the realm these past years, let us start again doing this small bit the right way.
>
> May the Five ever bless your honorable family with no more misfortune and may they bless mine for I sorely need it. Again you have my sincerest apologies and pass them to his valued daughter, Queen Saskia. It is a letter written for her grace as well but I understand the spirit of your family resides in the lands of Ballard.
>
> Your late uncle was one of my early heroes as a young man. I won’t attempt to pretend I feel the loss as keenly as his family for I appreciate your grace too much for that.
>
> I’ll accept and respect your decision either way.
>
> It is what it is.
>
>
>
>
>
> Cartagen,
>
> 2nd month of Winter, 193 NC
>
> The King of Regia,
>
> Lucius Aldenus III
> Lila stared at the mist slowly lifting over the city, the chill penetrating her thick dress as the breeze turned into a northern wind. She pursed her lips and wrapped both arms around her chest protectively to pacify a small shiver.
>
> “He still sounds the same heh?” She asked the silent Melcher with a smile getting out of character. “All those tales of a bloodthirsty warlord coming from the north not holding much weight under scrutiny.”
>
> Lila remembered young Lucius from her only visit to Cartagen well after the ‘warband rebellion’ had ended. Seeing the look on the old knight’s face she pushed the thought away. Lila was a different girl then and Lucius was a grown man now. Everything was different.
>
> Melcher had avoided an answer. He never commented about the past.
>
> Lila’s single mistake had ruined her life forever and had send her noble brother to a self-imposed exile.
>
> “Order our men back from Sava,” she told her Shield and the aged knight stared at her surprised.
>
> “Baroness,” Melcher rustled. “We don’t know… this could be a ruse.”
>
> No it isn’t.
>
> “I trust a man who apologizes openly and assumes responsibility for his actions to keep his word Melcher. Even if he’s a king. More even,” she told him austerely, wearing her shell again after the brief slippage. “I wish I could say the same for our own people.”
>
> Melcher grimaced, deeps lines on his face turning more prominent and then bowed his grey head respectfully.
>
> “As you wish, your grace.”
>
> If only it was that simple, Lila pondered turning her back to the departing knight and let out a breath she was holding out.
>
> Here’s your truce Lucius, she thought. You’re forgiven.
>
> See you make something out of it worthy of the losses we both suffered.
>
>
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