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Storm Nattas
-The Baron’s return-
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“Baron!” Captain Tenuta boomed for a third time just as a strain-faced sweaty Storm finished depositing yesterday’s meal inside the stone lavatory’s flush toilet. He got up cursing colorfully, cleaned himself up with a wet towel and cracked the door open.
“Ah, there you are,” Tenuta noted and Storm grumbled under his teeth while fixing his tunic, looking to avoid soaking it in the dirty water spillage.
The whole plumbing of the villa needs a good rework.
Sanitation has taken a turn for the worse.
Too much material for the service.
He glanced outside the latrine afore exiting, it was situated at the back of villa via the east hall, but the captain was alone.
“I called three times,” Tenuta explained at the disheveled Nattas who used another cleaner cloth to wipe his sweaty face despite the morning chill.
“Did it occur to you that I may be busy and in need of privacy?”
“For ten minutes Baron?”
That sounded dirty and it was in a sense.
“It was a big turd,” Storm retorted with a vexed scowl. “Lots of effort went into dislodging it and I’m worn out Captain. So spare me the criticism.”
“Baron I’m ordered to escort you to Cediorum,” Tenuta bristled not in the mood for Storm’s riposte. “I’d like to get this assignment over and return to my family.”
Hmm. Why the fancy city relocation? This is either good or bad.
What the fuck is going on here?
“Dear Tenuta,” Storm said taking a deep breath. “You know I consider you family after all we’ve been through.”
“That’s lovely, but I don’t milord,” the Captain retorted stoically. “The carriage leaves in an hour. Better get ready.”
“Is this the end then?” Storm asked carefully, preparing for the worst.
Tenuta frowned. “Baron you are to be released to Regia,” he replied pursing his mouth. “The King requested your person included in the deal.”
Storm nodded a sense of relief washing over him.
Gratitude Abrakas, he thought and lord Lucius.
Good smart lad.
A day later,
Grand City Port of Cediorum,
Main Harbor facilities,
West Docks,
The moored Brig ‘Belvoir’
Captain Gareth Lennox, a tall austere young man with dark brown hair cut short and a trimmed goatee, eyed the Baron navigating the ramp with the help of a scowling Captain Tenuta. Ken Dorm, his adjutant rushed to shoulder the task of assisting Nattas taking his leather satchel and grabbing the limping man’s elbow.
“Good luck Captain Lennox,” Tenuta said jumping off of the ramp. “Give me best to your mother.”
“Appreciate it, Captain Tenuta,” the young Lennox replied. “How’s the lovely wife?”
“Brought her sister to help out with the baby,” Tenuta sighed. “Even though I paid for a maid.”
“Be diplomatic,” Lennox cautioned him and greeted Storm with a nod. “Baron. We see each other again. Wasn’t expecting it.”
“It’s not a social call,” Storm retorted. “Your optimism warms the heart Captain.”
“You’ll have company so perhaps some warmth will be forthcoming. The Belvoir has taken quite the fame for transporting valuable personnel.”
“We’re not electing your ship willingly dear Gareth,” Storm rejoined wryly. “So stay yer dreams of turning it into a pleasure cruise vessel.”
“Dorm is that the Baron’s satchel?” Gareth Lennox asked with a roll of his eyes. “Check it out.”
“I’ve nothing of import inside,” Nattas grunted lying with ease. “A book of recipes, toiletries and some jewelry. I’ve donated my clothes to the Navy.”
“Any good recipe?”
“Baked beans in tomato soup,” Storm said with a leer. “With garlic, vinegar and oregano. But I won’t recommend it to the ship’s chef given the tight quarters.”
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Captain Lennox offered to arrange a meeting with Duke Ursus and him, but Storm didn’t accept given their history and the fact he had the man’s family killed. Nattas sighed and grabbed the fast-travelling over the large waves’ ship’s rails. The Baron stood at the starboard side to keep an eye on the distant shores of the Lorian Gulf.
It was moving that Lucius had come through. Storm had tried to keep the Heir’s bid for the throne alive as best as he could since the start and it hadn’t been easy. Now Lucius was a different character than those he had to deal with until recently and Storm needed to remember that.
Plug the holes Nattas, the assassin had cautioned him years back.
Sirio is near him. They might even be friends by now. Motherfucking doe-eyed weasel hasn’t contacted me yet. Grin had been ordered to travel to Cartaport. Storm didn’t know how Sudi had arranged things. He assumed Sir Barnard Rottas was in the Turtle Isles with Miranda and Silvio. Maja was probably with them given her fear of staying in big cities.
People can sneak up on you, the other former assassin in his entourage frequently griped sadly.
In a crowd.
Grogan was loyal and shrewd enough not to fuck up simple tasks and he’d apparently figured out to contact Lucius via Sirio and not King Jeremy. That would have been a little awkward but also wouldn’t have given out anything of importance in the chance he failed. While Lucius seemed to be ahead at this point, Storm preferred to keep at least a modicum of good graces with the other king.
With the truce signed and Storm knew these treaties could last for years, decades even. They could also end tomorrow but no side wanted that. Anyways, Lucius was free to get rid of Ligur and march to Alden. Some tinkering was needed there to ensure a ‘smooth’ transition and then it was time to enjoy a time of peace.
Prosperity.
He thought of Miranda and little Silvio.
Plug yer holes.
The palace old Dottore has to go.
Ursus.
Lord Doris.
A couple of more loose ends.
Sir Barnard was loyal to Miranda.
This could turn uncomfortable under interrogation, the man’s loyalties to the former Queen might endear him to the act of throwing Nattas under the proverbial wagon’s wheels.
Decent men are the worst ruffians.
Yeah. He made a mental note to prepare for that if he couldn’t keep Miranda away from the new court. He could that is by a bit of force if needed.
Subtle. Nothing excessive.
Storm was very fond of the Queen.
The thought of her waking up his cock and it stirred something fierce under his tunic. Ah and they say distant hearts grow colder.
A bunch of bullshit.
Last month of 193 NC
Cartagen,
The Palace of a hundred windows
Storm Nattas got out of the closed carriage like an old woman laden with raw hides, his leg stiff and back hurting from the all night travel. The driver, a sergeant of the guard, clicked his tongue and had the carriage moving again away from the palace stairs. The two knights exchanged greetings with their Lesia counterparts then the latter also turned their horses around and followed after the departing carriage.
The rain was pouring over the palace grounds without stop. The prisoner exchange meeting had to be modified then canceled due to bad weather and other technicalities but Lesia had released their prisoners to Lucius’ people on good faith. This meant Storm had been loaded into the carriage immediately upon disembarking in Cartaport and then rushed to Cartagen.
“Baron Nattas,” one of the knights said while the compact figure of the Royal Guard’s commander came down the stairs briskly. “I’m Sir Loren Messor. Welcome back to the palace my lord.”
Storm glanced at the knight’s face half-covered by the polished red helm and clad in typical Alden palace plate armour. The shining and now soaked cuirass had the color of red wine, the head of a gold Blacktiger sculpted on his chest and the same pattern –though much larger- on the pauldrons that flared out at the shoulders, the steel shaped in intricate details and breastplate ending with a fauld of four interconnected lames that were in turn secured with the tasset. His arms were protected with a vambrace then a rerebrace the tubular piece of armor locked under the prominent sculpted pauldrons at the shoulders. The armour weighted at least twenty kilos but it could go up another ten if more armour pieces were added for the legs.
Ah.
“How’s your Mayor father Sir Messor? You’re his third son yes?” Storm asked politely despite his discomfort.
“Complains about taxes Baron. But hopeful your presence will bring normalcy to our city,” the young knight replied.
The Mayor had undeclared goods tacked away in some warehouse probably.
“That’s enough Sir Messor,” Sir Seleucid Merenda boomed despite standing not a meter from them. “I’ll take over now. Baron,” he continued now addressing Nattas “Your king has granted an audience.”
“I’m appreciative of the fact but can I take a moment to soak in the rain some more? It’s a rhetorical query commander,” Storm added before the old hale knight could reply. “I’ll… climb up the stairs as fast as I can. Bear with me now.”
“You need assistance?”
“Just time,” Storm retorted and eyed the dark palace grounds. But for the palace that is. The latter was lit up despite being early in the day, the whole second floor windows shedding light on the front of the building.
“An hour. The king is busy and stayed his departure to talk with you Baron,” Sir Seleucid informed him not pleased.
“We have Duke Ursus also in the other carriage. I assume they’ll bring him in from a side-entrance? Wrapped in a blanket? Goodness me, is the man still breathing? ”
Storm would have preferred that he wasn’t.
“The matter of the Duke isn’t yer concern,” Sir Seleucid cautioned him. “Are you gonna start climbing up good Baron?”
“I’m just gathering courage good knight,” Storm retorted. “That’s thirty fucking wide steps over there. Made for larger in girth people. For sure they didn’t spare a single thought for cripples.”
Merenda stared at him under thick brows for a moment then grabbed him by the shoulder and forced Storm up the palace entrance steps.
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Cyrus Falx paused with a frown seeing Storm wait outside the throne room. The old castellan and chamberlain apparently had come out of retirement. He approached slowly, old knee-length velvet frockcoat’s silver buttons nicely polished on his right side with military style braiding trim inserts to the left keeping it closed.
“Lord Nattas. I haven’t seen you in a long time,” Cyrus said in his dry voice. “You have appointment?”
“I was recently freed from captivity Cyrus,” Storm elucidated. “The King wants to see me.”
“I was informed you were fired from the Council,” the palace official noted.
“That happened before that,” Nattas retorted indignantly. “Try to keep up old man.”
“I’ve recently returned to service my Lord,” Cyrus replied calmly.
Pull my finger, see if a fart comes out, a blank-faced Storm thought. I don’t give a fuck.
“Who’s in the King’s Council?” He asked instead.
“The King goes about his business under a different model.”
Hmm.
“Sirio Veturius is in it?”
“I’ve seen the young Veturius around. He’s not,” Cyrus replied. “The King awaits.”
God darn idiot.
You had one job.
The guard had opened the door. Storm smacked his lips, grasped his cane and started walking towards the visible marble throne with the twin tigers at the armrests. The King of Regia sitting on it.
The correct one.
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Lucius had aged nicely. He was thirty two years old now but still had the energy and aura of a younger man. Must be all the riding about in the countryside and the double-duty required to keep two young fit wives happy. His medium length hair had no visible grey marring them and were black as coal. Some lines had formed near his piercing Alden-blue eyes and the armour he had on was a mixture of the legion cuirass with the sculpted tiger pauldrons and a knight’s breastplate in dark polished crimson. A red legion-type cloak was draped over his shoulders, the fabric folded around the left side of his chest and secured with a gold clasp. Lucius had Endariel strapped on his waist -Storm noticed- but wore no crown on his head.
A sculpted legion helm was placed on a small table next to the throne, the upper part intricately turned into a snarling Blacktiger, the design departing from Regia’s coat of arms but similar. Several of the banners inside the hall had it in fact, the other kings watching in silence the changes Lucius had brought.
Not that many if Storm wanted to be frank.
“Celebrated King Lucius. May Allgods bring favor unto you in abundance, strip your opponents bare of it and leave them a shivering sickly mess,” Storm said in a steady voice and bowed sharply using his cane for assistance, a lot of locked up bones from the cold journey crackling ominously.
Fuck.
Lucius got up from the throne. A tall fit man standing taller. Handsome and dignified. He walked towards Nattas that had stopped five meters away, a couple of knights watching him from the sides. Two legionnaires present at the doors behind him but no Merenda. The commander had been called away and didn’t wait with Storm outside.
“Thick on the praise as always,” Lucius commended in his familiar voice but with a rougher northern accent and smiled slowing down afore stopping in front of him. “I almost didn’t recognize you Storm but hearing you curse people without shame I did.”
“Random people deserve it unfortunately. Your Highness, you haven’t aged a day,” Storm replied dutifully although now that he could see Lucius from up close, he had a bit. “Rest of us mortals aren’t as blessed rightfully.”
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Lucius chuckled and then grabbed him by the shoulders which was alarming for Nattas and made him flinch, but then the king hugged him giving the stunned Baron a pat on the back.
“I’m glad you survived,” a moved Lucius told him and stepped back.
Storm didn’t know what to say. He was overwhelmed at Lucius’ openness and tried to keep from squeaking like a maiden having her tit groped as if she didn’t like it.
For he did.
“My King I’d like to offer the warmest cheers to your person for securing the throne,” he finally managed to say and bowed carefully. You don’t want to head-butt the King or break your forehead on the engraved plate.
People have been put to death for less.
Lucius nodded and pointed at a large conference table that had been moved from the adjoining room into this hall. The King had turned the throne room into an office. He’s probably not receiving any dignitaries yet, Storm thought.
“I don’t want to keep you standing,” Lucius commented and gave him a warm stare. “But you need to cut back on the fanfare Storm. Come tell me what I missed all those years.”
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Storm found a solid redwood chair with a high back and dark-red leather upholstery. He remembered it from his previous visits to the palace. Rolled up maps and neat plies of scrolls were set in front of the King. Lucius had them brushed aside casually to clear space. A forty year old legion officer with specs of grey hair on his head approached with a tray that had two cups of tea and a small bowl of auburn honey with a silver spoon.
“Green tea from Levacum,” Lucius explained. “A gift from Admiral Lennox.”
Nattas had enough tea during his stay at Rochstab to hate it but it was a cold day in Cartagen and very early in the morning still so he nodded.
“I appreciate it. Did the Admiral have no good wine in his cellars?” He asked unable to control himself.
“Flauegran has lost this season I’m afraid,” Lucius replied evenly pouring some honey straight from the bowl in his cup.
Don’t make jests so soon, Storm scolded himself and grimaced.
“I guess they did,” he said simply.
“I was led to believe they’ve taken good care of you,” Lucius noted eyeing his wrinkled doublet.
“Other than the navy rations I can’t complain your Grace,” Storm replied. “I just didn’t have the time to change after the journey.”
Lucius nodded once and sipped from his tea. He kept his eyes on him for a long moment and Nattas gulped down some of his without any sweetener. The bitter taste waking him up for good.
“Di Cresta gave me some solid advice which helped smoothen the deal,” the King said his tone unchanged. “But you had a hand in it as well. Clever Storm Nattas always steering things from the shadows.”
“I just offered some pointers,” Storm replied modestly. “The rest was an expensive gamble.”
“The man was arrested for smuggling silk six years back,” Lucius said. “Among other things. But was never charged.”
“I used him to keep an ear at the port’s happenings,” Storm changed position on his seat. “He promised to adjust his ways and find a decent job.”
“He runs a ring of prostitutes out of a warehouse and worked with Lesia on providing labor for their fleet.”
“Each new start is difficult my Lord,” Nattas replied. “Did he confess on anything?”
“He barely said a couple of words.”
“Grogan was always like that,” Storm cleared his throat. “Is he detained?”
“Until I have the Mayor’s explanation on the matter,” Lucius said. “But I’m not looking into it personally.”
Storm shrugged his shoulders. “It was mentioned you’ll be leaving the capital?” He asked changing the subject.
“Ligur is making moves,” Lucius replied. “Since I trust Lord Sula to hold the coast, I’m looking to return to Asturia.”
“Lord Brakis might be open to a deal if Sula stops attacking them,” Storm offered. “I’ve contacted his son.”
“Lord Brakis shouldn’t have attacked Sula in the first place,” Lucius countered evenly. “Why did you go to Lesia?” He asked changing the subject.
“I didn’t choose it. Ursus tried to have me killed and had an agreement with them. They landed in Moon’s Haven and I had no options left but to follow them.”
“What agreement?”
“They intended to use Novesium as a base.”
“Drusus Sula cleansed the city from Ursus’ people but didn’t report this,” Lucius argued with a slight frown.
“They didn’t go through with it. After Ursus fled to them, there was no point in opening yet another front.”
Lucius pushed back on his chair and placed a closed fist on the table.
“You always had a firm grasp on what was going on in the kingdom,” he told Storm who sipped some more of the bitter tea satisfied. “How did you not see the plot against my father Storm?”
Eh.
Abrakas this isn’t the time for any funny business, he warned the foul deity.
“I wasn’t with the king in Riverdor.”
“Why?”
Storm grimaced. “I offered it but the king wanted me in Alden after… all that had happened. It was a difficult period for him.”
Lucius’ face darkened. It was paler than Storm remembered it, while the neat beard on his face kept very short, gave the young king a more sober appearance.
“Who wanted Silvie murdered?” Lucius asked slowly, following the thread.
“A cultist priest arranged for the attempt. He was killed. It wasn’t targeted I believe,” Storm replied being careful with his words. “The initial disturbance was a separate plot by the priests of Uher and Kelholt with Lord Anker’s blessing in order to pressure King Antoon. It all went very wrong.”
“Which cult was it?”
“Some obscure deity. The Painted God,” Storm explained and a flicker of recognition flashed in Lucius eyes. “You’re familiar with them?”
“I’ve met people in the North that follow these gods. Some of them dead now. Allies and enemies.”
“A Northern god?”
“I have no idea,” Lucius admitted and pursed his mouth. “Nor do I consider them important. Was it a religious matter? They would attack children?”
“I never got to finish that investigation,” Nattas admitted.
A dead end. Literally.
“Why would Lord Ursus move against my father?” Lucius asked soberly returning to the previous topic.
“He wanted Novesium out of Cartagen’s principality. It’s a long debated matter. Some concessions were given to its port and officials but even with all the independence, Ursus wanted out from under the king’s direct supervision. Or the High Baron’s I suppose.”
Lucius rapped his fingers on the table.
“Novesium is your base of operations Storm. How did you miss his plotting? Who else was involved?” He asked somberly.
“I don’t believe it was a conspiracy. Ursus may have talked about it within his family circles and then the events at Riverdor created a window of opportunity for his cousin to act.”
“You can’t be serious!” Lucius admonished him raising his voice and Storm gulped down nervously. “The man would never have acted against the king without assurances. Later events indicate others were involved. Why wasn’t Ursus charged?”
“The King died,” Storm said raspingly. “People panicked. I don’t think there was a conspiracy against your father.”
“Why was the Queen Regent removed then?”
“Miranda didn’t have enough backing,” Storm blurted a mostly true though vague statement.
Don’t use her name freely you plaguing idiot!
But Lucius appeared too distracted to notice.
“Because they wanted Jeremy on the throne,” Lucius reminded him.
“Antoon wanted blood and you out of Regia. Lord Doris was not in a condition to think clearly and Brakis had problems with your father’s navy contracts being late. They opted for Jeremy—”
Lucius had banged his fist on the table stopping him.
“Explain to me why Lord Doris went against his sister and why did she agree to step down. Miranda was never that accommodating Storm,” he said keeping his voice remarkably calm.
She had no choice, Storm thought and licked his lips nervously.
“I don’t want to speculate,” he started and Lucius grimaced, a hand rubbing at his face. “Too much was happening,” Storm continued. “Some of it bitterness for your father, jealously and ambition. Ursus got a Duchy out of Jeremy. They didn’t think you’ll return.”
“You didn’t see any of it? She stayed in charge for months and you were her Shield.”
I was distracted, then blindsided like an idiot.
“Speculate Storm,” Lucius said wearily. “Where’s the Queen?”
“In the Turtle Isles,” Nattas replied guardedly. “She asked for a favor and I obliged. The Queen was not part of the group that wanted Jeremy on the throne.”
“Eh, she didn’t object to it at the very least,” Lucius admonished him sounding angry. “Nor did she respect her husband’s… the king’s wishes. Was she having an affair?”
“That’s… preposterous and a lie your grace. Apologies for the words.”
“Just speak your mind,” Lucius warned narrowing his eyes. “Where’s Sir Rottas?”
“With her. He’s an honorable man,” Nattas said keeping his voice steady.
“The rumors have reached Asturia Storm,” Lucius insisted. “Why did she step down?”
“If that was the reason, I wasn’t privy to it,” Nattas replied. “It sounds like vile gossip my Lord.”
“If it was a false tale dispersed to harm her then those circulating it were plotting against my father’s wishes,” Lucius retorted harshly. “They weren’t pressured into anything and are guilty of sedition. They had the opportunity to rally around the Queen and didn’t. Was Scaldingport part of the plot?”
Nattas sighed and stood back on his chair. “The Old Crow wouldn’t have risked it but wouldn’t object also.”
“Would he back Jeremy in the field?” Lucius asked his mind racing elsewhere.
“They are too busy and spread out. Is Gust still on Eplas?”
“I don’t have any news from that part of Kaltha,” Lucius replied and pushed himself up. “This is a mess. All easily avoided yet very few people had the character to stand firm,” he added tiredly.
“I did all I could to prevent them from going through with it,” Storm said with a grimace of worry. “Power was never in my hands your grace.”
“You were the Queen’s Shield. Although I understand you were never favored in court,” Lucius replied. “Or by her personally. Why did she pick you? Her brother was right there. Did they have a falling out? I just can’t figure out why Lord Doris would remove his support for her.”
“He’d just lost his son and the King in quick succession,” Storm expounded. He wasn’t defending Lord Doris but mostly himself. “No one was thinking clearly.”
“Ursus knew what he was doing for sure. Lord Holt and Lord Sula had everything sorted out in their heads as well,” Lucius retorted. “Grown men and Lords of the realm can’t use that excuse after all that happened Nattas. We always have a choice and discomfort shouldn’t play a part in it.”
Storm got up himself with difficulty. He’d sweated his tunic and it wasn’t because of the hot tea.
“What will you do with Ursus?” He asked a deep in thought king.
“I made a conscious effort to avoid him,” Lucius replied. “He’s being detained. Lesia is sensitive on the matter.”
“You’ll be lenient?” Storm asked carefully and Lucius furrowed his brows surprised at the query.
“The first kingdom’s law is crystal clear on the matter Storm so I won’t change it,” he replied steadily. Nattas felt a numbness spreading in his left arm. “He’ll be judged according to it and afforded the same mercy he showed my father.”
“What about Jeremy?”
“Jeremy should step down. He shall,” Lucius eyed him austerely. “I won’t kill my brother Storm. You shouldn’t worry about it.”
“Of course your grace,” Nattas replied dutifully with a bow of his sweaty head.
I wasn’t worrying for him but for the rest of us.
In Storm’s mind Jeremy was as dead as Lord Ursus already.
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Lord Nattas left the palace to return to his home in Cartagen after more than a year away. He took a carriage there and thanked the escorting knight. With Lucius just about to depart after the army, Storm wanted to see the king again but needed a change in clothes. He expected an empty house but found Grin and some of the remaining Reformed living in it.
His man looked mildly surprised seeing the Baron burst into his office.
“Milord Nattas?” Grin asked unsure ogling his eyes.
“Do I have a horn growing out of my forehead? Tits? Who else could it fucking be?” Storm grunted irate. “What are you doing here?”
Grin was eating two slices of bread with ham and cheese in between them. A couple of pieces of tomato dropping on the table as he moved it about.
“Ahm,” his man stalled.
“If you say that you’re eating or some nonsense,” Storm warned hefting his cane threateningly. “I’m breaking this on your head.”
“Sudi wanted me-self to recruit folk and keep an ear on the capital?” Grin replied with a question.
“Are you?”
“Eh, not easy during the siege milord,” Grin said and smiled. “I thought you was dead.”
“Why?”
“Don’t know. Seemed logical,” Grin admitted.
Fuck’s sake.
“Where’s is Sirio?” Storm asked and used his cane to remove Grin from his chair. The man moved after the first blow landed. “What the… there’s oil on the surface.”
Grin rubbed his shoulder and took another step back with a grimace.
“I poured some on the tomatoes for flavor chief.”
“Where did you find the oil?” Storm grunted. “There’s a shortage.”
“Yer cellar?” Grin retorted. “Ye have plenty of wine as well. I made quite the coin selling them. Didn’t spend any,” he added quickly, seeing Lord Nattas’ fury flashing all over his face.
“You’ve been selling my wine?” Storm growled, almost drowning himself in his own spit. “Blasted imbecilic buffoon! Arggh! Is there any left?”
Grin nodded and Storm sighed looking at his stained sleeves dripping with olive oil and pieces of vegetables that had fallen off of Grin’s huge sandwich. “Bring me a clean set of clothes from the bedroom. Locate the maid or hire a new one. Then get some of the idiots sleeping in my couches to work immediately!”
“Doing what milord?” Grin asked blinking at the tasks he’d hurled at him.
“I want to know what’s going on,” Storm grunted. “As soon as possible. Ah, and send a missive to Sudi. I want him on the first ship out of Turtle Isles—”
“He’s in Moon’s Haven milord.”
Storm licked at his lips silently. “Then he can use a horse,” he said after a moment of contemplation.
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Nattas’ thoroughly cleaned and washed from dirt carriage stopped next to a roaming the market Sirio later that day, the abruptly opened door almost hitting the startled historian on the head. Apparently Sirio was enlisted in the Third Legion now as a LID officer or some other crap.
“Get in,” Storm grunted warningly at his shocked son in law. Sirio climbed on the carriage and Storm used the cane to force the clumsy man to sit on the couch across from him.
“Lord Nattas you’re back!” Sirio blurted out tensely and went to hug him but Storm kept the cane between them, using the tip to push him back on the leather couch. “That’s a great surprise. It’s good to see you after all this time,” the younger Veturius added sounding relieved.
Wait until our meeting is fully over afore making decision, Nattas thought of cautioning him but didn’t.
“Years,” Storm grunted. “I heard you’re with the Legion now.”
“I was offered the position—”
Nattas cut him off. “Did I tell you to enlist?”
Sirio puffed out exasperated. “Eh, I didn’t have much of an option… how did you? Wow, you scared me pretty good back there. Aye, it’s a stressful job. Is Maja with you?”
“Lad,” Storm said eyeing him like a skittish bug trying to avoid a heavy boot coming down. “Why are you not in Lucius’ inner circle?”
“It’s not… the Praetor has his people around him.”
“Your uncle is a Tribune!” Storm barked stooping nearer. Sirio backed away.
“I couldn’t ask… you don’t understand,” Sirio tried to explain. “The Praetor’s inner circle is very difficult to breach without gaining his confidence. These are dangerous people my Lord. Nords, the army. A bloody giant. They don’t fool around.”
What? Is he on drugs?
“What about his wives?” Storm probed going another way.
Sirio stood back. “The Holt girl is isolated and Lady Faye even more difficult to approach.”
“Surely he has advisors.”
“Only the army is near him. Mostly those that came from the north.”
“He lives in the palace!” Storm barked.
“Only because of the children. That’s not the palace you remember,” Sirio explained. “There’s a Cohort camp inside the grounds and Logan’s people.”
“Who in Abrakas gullet is he?” Storm hissed.
“You don’t want to meet him my Lord,” Sirio elucidated. Nattas stood back with a gasp of exasperation. He scratched his freshly trimmed goatee with nervous fingers.
“Will Lucius rule without a Council?” Storm asked in a calmer manner.
“The matter hasn’t been breached at all,” Sirio replied. “I think he’ll do what he did in Kas.”
“What did he do in Kas?”
“Installed a military governor. Macrinus.”
“Who’s he? A noble?”
“He’s not. Just an officer of the Legion.”
Storm grimaced, a tick appearing on his left eye. “Surely this is done temporarily. We are not living in the days of the old lords.” What had Lucius said? The First Kingdom’s Law. A reference to King Lucius the First and the days afore him. “This isn’t a fiefdom to install his captains in charge Sirio. Did his wife put him up to it?”
“My lord,” Sirio said. “You don’t understand. The Praetor’s decisions are not up for debate before or after. They are issued and everyone follows through with them. It is what worked in the North and how it is done here.”
“This isn’t going to work,” Storm decided and Sirio frowned.
“Why not? Lucius knows right from wrong.”
Storm glared at him. “What about the Lords?”
“I don’t believe Lucius will bother himself with any Lord’s opinion other than Holt’s and Sula’s and he won’t consult them about the kingdom’s matters.”
“You can’t agree with that,” Storm argued and Sirio shrugged his shoulders.
“Look at what damage their in-fighting caused,” the historian explained. “I haven’t heard one wrong word uttered from the Praetor. You need to talk with him.”
Ah, you went over to the deep end lad.
“Sirio I did talk with him. I know the man better than any of you fools. Everyone makes mistakes and a king that rules without a council is a dictator,” Storm stooped forward and used his cane to hold his weight. “Even if Lucius is perfect this isn’t a sustainable model. What comes after him? What happens if your morals are at odds?”
Sirio crossed both arms before his chest.
“I trust Lord Lucius,” he said firmly and Storm chuckled at his convinced expression.
“Your wife is a contract killer,” he told him bleakly and Sirio blinked, face draining from blood. “She worked as an assassin for years. Led a group of her own. The Silent Servants. Yeah. Whoa there my lad. Breathe. One more time, but take a deeper breath,” he advised the fainting historian. “She was implicated in the murder of his sister and other shenanigans,” Nattas continued. “You are as well knowing what you know about the other thing and Silvio.”
Sirio was about to start puking all over his carriage. Storm reached in a small side cabinet and got a metal flask out. He offered it to the sick-looking historian. “Have some whiskey,” Storm offered. “Now, since you don’t want to be responsible for their demise you’ll keep quiet, am I right?”
Sirio nodded whilst gulping down the strong liquid. He started coughing after a while, his face now flushed and sweaty, eyes ogling and teary. Nattas allowed him the time to collect himself afore continuing. “You don’t want all the putrid nasty stuff coming out. Their lives are in your hands. Your silence the only lifeline they have. One slip of the tongue would have everyone killed and while some of us might deserve it, the kid is innocent.”
“Allgods,” Sirio gasped and started pulling at his hair. “We’re all going to die.”
Storm reached across and slapped him once stopping his groveling. Then backhanded him a second time and a third. He was going to keep going but Sirio groaned and slapped his arm away angrily.
“Good,” Storm said with a sigh pleased at his reaction and wiped his sweaty forehead. “Now go get ready. You’re leaving with the army soon as well.”
“I could stay in the city!” Sirio argued and Nattas took the flask away from him.
“You won’t,” he retorted somberly. “I want to know what’s going on. Use your position to inform me so I can act accordingly.”
“You’ll come with the army?” Sirio asked cracking his jaw right and left, both cheeks red from the blows.
“If it can be arranged,” Nattas grunted with a grimace.
The last think he wanted was going on campaign in the middle of winter but when life hands you a shovel… you dig.
Hopefully not your own grave.