“Get my house in order? You have a lot of nerve coming here and speaking to me that way! How dare you address a monarch in such a fashion?” King Athelstan Merciex’s voice rose, filling the meeting room.
On either side of him, High Priest Tobias Jay and court wizard Errol glared at counsellor Kartika.
The six armed woman—her three pairs of hands clasped before her on the table—glared right back. Outside, late fall had given way to early winter, and the windows were coated in a thick layer of wet snow and ice. It had taken time for this meeting to be arranged—too much time—and the usually patient councillor had obviously not taken the wait well. The situation was too important.
“When a king’s house is out of order, then that king must be told to get his house in order,” she said, her voice flat, sharp and cold, cutting like a knife. “Especially when that disorder affects other rulers.”
“If you are speaking of the incident at Rockmoot, then know that disciplinary measures were already taken. As we informed you in our correspondence.” Tobias leaned forward. “I find this attitude of yours vexing.”
Her eyes flicked to the high priest. “And I find your lack of respect vexing, young man.”
The priest’s eyebrows rose. “I have not been young for many winters.”
“Compared to me, you're still a child,” the wizard said. “And I'm not talking about Rockmoot, so you can stop with all of that ‘as per my previous letter,’ nonsense. If it were only Rockmoot, then we would not be having this conversation; I have better things to do than hold grudges over dead issues.”
“What do you mean?” the king demanded. “Have we been nothing but accommodating? Our Heroes, priests, and knights are working with your forces, including the Fool! I was even told that the Fool teleported to our forces during the battle of Llanesam just last month, to receive healing and aid. No one of Thameish blood harassed him or tried to do anything untoward. I can assure you of that.”
The councillor’s face had become a mask of calm.
Yet, the king knew better; he could see the tightness around her jaw and eyes. She was seething.
“I am not speaking of that battle. However, I will address that event. I know, and trust that you are honouring our diplomatic relations by not attacking a citizen of our fair city.” She leaned forward, the wooden table creaking under the increasing force of her three arms. “How do you think he received those injuries?”
“Are you accusing us of treachery?” Errol blustered.
“Of course not. If you had betrayed us, I would be accusing you directly of treachery, not beating around the bush. I did not do that and that is not what I said; I said for you to get your house in order. Are you aware that you have renegades within your ranks, King Athelstan?”
The king frowned. “Thameish discipline has been honed through thousands of years of conflict and our faith in Uldar. We suffer from banditry as any other nation does.”
Councillor Kartika shook her head. “I am a busy woman, and you are a busy man, I would not waste our time complaining to you about bandits. You have rot within your church and your army. Organised rot. I have been informed that the Fool of Thameland has been attacked by a shadow organisation hiding within your ranks. I trust that you would not have ordered this attack?”
“What are you saying, what shadow organisation? What fantasy is this?” the king scoffed. “The Thameish army is controlled by my vassals, who have sworn oaths of loyalty to me, and I have been vested with the authority of the divine right of rulership by Uldar himself. I command here, and am unaware of any ‘shadow organisation’.”
“I can only tell you what has been reported to me. And what has been reported to me is that a citizen of Generasi has been attacked by an organised, militaristic force that wears the symbol of your god, operating under his divine purpose. This is by their own admission.”
She glared at High Priest Tobias. “Is this your doing, priest? Or is your church so unruly that you have open rebellion right beneath your own nose?”
“How dare you,” the holy man bristled. “The priests of Thameland serve both our ruler’s throne in the material world, and our god’s throne in his divine realm. They have utter loyalty. Our king has ordered no such attack, and if Uldar sent a sign that such a battle must be fought, then I would know of it. I am the highest holy authority in all the land, aside from the Saint. Clearly, this must be the work of brigands, looking to discredit us, if such an attack even took place.”
“The unfortunate event at Rockmoot was caused by heightened tensions and a single nervous commander,” Errol sniffed. “These issues have already been corrected. I do not know how things are in Generasi, but there is no secret, conspiratorial organisation here in Thameland that works to subvert the king’s oaths and commands.”
“That you know about,” Kartika finished for him, her tone flat.
“Where is the evidence of this so-called secret organisation? You wizards of Generasi claim to believe in hard evidence, so where is it?” the court wizard asked. “Produce it here.”
“Investigate and you'll find it,” the councillor said.
“So you have no proof?” Errol asked.
“Let's just say—that if we did have proof—I am doing you the courtesy of not sharing evidence with…those who are suspect.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“You're accusing someone in this very room of treachery, then?” the king asked.
“As I said, in the beginning, if I were accusing you of treachery, then I would have done it openly. However, when one is to engage in diplomacy with another—whose house is not in order—then one must be careful with what one shares. If you find this treatment rude or unfair, then I have only one suggestion. Get. Your. House. In. Order.”
“...I do believe we are quite done here,” the king said, his voice frosty. “Let us retire before tensions rise further and someone says something they might regret.”
“Very good, I have said my piece.” Kartika rose from the table. “My teleporter is waiting to take me back to Generasi, and I have a lot to do.”
She looked at King Athelstan directly, holding his eyes. “And so do you, young king, so do you.”
###
“The nerve of her!” the Court Wizard sniffed, taking a long sip from a goblet of wine. “I tell you, Tobias, these foreign wizards are becoming much too arrogant on our shores.”
“The insult was grave,” Tobias said, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked through the window. “However, I can only partly blame her for her rudeness. Our army’s showing at Rockmoot was not their finest hour. One could conclude that we have a discipline issue after a scene like that.”
“A minor discipline issue that has been dealt with.” Errol took another sip from his goblet, this one even longer.
“Erm, you should slow down there, old friend, it's still early in the day. Very early.” High priest watched the court wizard with concern, eyeing both the goblet, and the rapidly falling level of liquid in the wine decanter.
“I need something if I'm going to get through another meeting with those overbearing wizards. And I need it to calmmyself after any such an encounter.” Eroll sipped liberally. “Rude! Uncouth! Disrespectful…disrespect…my king?”
“Hmmm?” King Athelstan looked up from staring at the roaring fire in the hearth, his eyes focusing.
“With respect, my king, you look troubled,” Errol said gently. “Are that woman’s words bothering you? Is her rudeness angering you as it so angers me, my king?”
There was a long pause. A pause filled with meaning.
Tobias sat down, his eyes suddenly alert.
“Sire, what are your thoughts?” he asked.
The king tapped a long finger against the arm of his chair, lips pursed, tongue pressed against the back of his front teeth. “What do you truly think of her words? Not what we said in front of her…but what do you truly think?”
“Sire, I think that all of Thameland is united under your rule and Uldar’s divine will,” Errol said quickly.
“And you, Tobias? What say you?” Athelstan asked.
“Hmmmm.” The high priest’s eyes had returned to the window. “It is true…all of Thameland should be well united beneath your rule. But…”
“But what?” The king leaned toward Tobias, his chair shifting. “Speak freely.”
The high priest closed his eyes for a moment—a long moment—before finally opening them. His eyes were still averted from his king.
“Forgive the seed of doubt, your majesty. I still cannot fully understand what happened at Rockmoot. A nervous officer giving a command, I could see; if any of us thought your life was threatened, we might act hastily as well. Yet, for so many of your soldiers to react without your command…is troubling.”
“You are overthinking things, Tobias; many of our soldiers would strike immediately if they thought the king was threatened. The explanation is simple: a nervous officer gave the command, and the army assumed that our king was on the verge of being attacked. They simply reacted,” Errol said.
Tobias finally looked away from the window, his eyes fixed on the court mage’s. “Errol, you served with the army when you were younger, did you not?”
The mage winced. “Briefly. Very briefly. A soldier’s life did not agree with me; these hands are far more suited for pens than they are for swords or spears. I was a poor soldier, and I'm not sure who was more relieved at my discharge; me or my commanding officer.”
“Yet you still served, even if it was only briefly. Tell me, would those soldiers’ reactions be so organised if they were caught off guard? The order to attack was to come from either the king or one of us, not from some “panicked officer”. Yet the soldiers didn't hesitate; they struck in unison. I am no military man, but from where I stood, their coordination seemed perfect. Almost as though it were rehearsed.”
Errol paused. “Soldiers drill, Tobias, it is their duty and their vocation. Just as you don’t hesitate or stutter in your prayers, they don't hesitate to strike when necessary.”
“Not even one caught off guard?” Tobias asked. “They seemed ready to me, Errol.”
“We were all ready for the Fool to strike.”
“Yet he did not strike.” Tobias pushed. “I was standing as near to him, as I am to you. I saw no hostile motions. And supposedly a single panicked officer saw something from many times that distance—gave an order that was not supposed to be given unless the king was under attack, or he himself ordered an attack—yet not a single soldier hesitated?”
“So what are you suggesting, Tobias?” Errol threw his hands up. “That there’s a massive conspiracy within our ranks? You’re starting to sound like those foreigners; questioning us at every moment as though we’re incompetent backwater fools!”
“I am suggesting no such thing.” Tobias turned to his king. “My king, are you aware of the strengths and weaknesses of deific silence?”
Athelstan shook his head, his eyes drifting to the high priest. “I'm sorry, I must've skipped that lesson during my church school days.”
“It is not a lesson taught to many outside of the priesthood.” Tobias cleared his throat. “Religious scholars around the world debate the strengths and weaknesses of deities who are highly active in their worshippers lives, as opposed to deities who take a distant stance. Some deities rule their people with an iron fist, at times, even manifesting in the physical world to lead them personally. They appear to prefer taking the role of a mortal king or queen rather than a being of a divine nature.”
He shook his head. “Many deities who assume this approach often become no more than powerful tyrants. They control their people through faith, strength, and—at times—sheer terror. Many of these deities show no kindness, unlike our Uldar, and even those who offer kindness—while leading their mortal followers by the hand—can create a faith ripe with sycophants. Much as a parent must let their child go so they might experience the world, a deity should allow their faithful to explore and have command of themselves. Better to serve as a gentle guide and an arbiter of divine law, than an overprotective guardian.”
King Athelstan raised an eyebrow. “Is this the reason that Uldar did not return after his ascension?”
Tobias smiled sadly. “That is one of the theories: that our lord Uldar ascended and took a distant vigil over Thameland so we would be free to grow into our own. It has been theorised that there is a cost to this action, however.”
“And that cost is?” the king asked.
“Unity and harmony. If a deity steps back and only guides gently or silently, then mortal minds and words can twist that deity’s laws to their own will. At times, even their own priests might begin to argue about interpretation of divine law. Schisms and…secret cells of dissidents can form.”
“And you think this might've happened to us?” King Athelstan asked.
“I am not sure, my king, I am not sure,” Tobias said gravely.
The king sat upright. “I am not sure either Tobias, and that in and of itself is worrying to me. If Councilor Kartika is right, then something rotten lies within our kingdom of Thameland. Perhaps it is time that we investigate; strange things have been occurring this cycle, almost from the beginning. Perhaps we doneed ‘to get our house in order’.”