“And though I came to forget or regret all I have ever done, yet would I remember that once I saw the dragons aloft on the wind at sunset above the Western isles; and I would be content.”
Ursula Le Guin
Meanwhile, within the court of a Hundred Lords
After a furtive look up and down the corridor to ensure they were not being eavesdropped on, the finely dressed man quizzed the servant who had found him on his way to the chamber. “Where are these two upstart children and their common-born family then?” The Eastern Lord questioned acerbically. “We need to ensure they are on the right side of the House of Lords, our side. Or not on the board at all.”
The man reporting to him answered, “We believe we have located the family on the pioneer island of Wester Ponente in the Wester Isles. After teasing out the information from some of his crew, there appear to be some significant changes to the isle following or around the time of an Archbishop’s visit. The island is at the furthest point of his trade route and one of the few places a lord might appear without being noticed by the other Western Lords and being co-opted by them.”
“If there is one silver lining in this debacle, it is that at least they were equally unaware of the family's existence. We need to send our own envoy to get a clearer picture of the situation and act before they can. He might have received a royal decree to ensure his safety, but that does not preclude other possibilities.”
“Your Lordship?”
“If they are weak, we can control him. If they are strong, we can buy them; if they are in between, we can apply a mixture of pressure. We will have to leave it up to who we send to choose the right message, but that does not mean we can’t send him several options to choose from. Kidnap, coercion, contracts, blackmail or coin, I don’t care whichever works but get it done.”
“Of course, your grace, I will see to it immediately.” His lackey replied. Bustling off down the corridor while his employer made his way on toward the House of Lords
. . .
On the other side of the House of Lords, a similar conversation was going on. “You found them?” An equally finely dressed Western lord asked intently. The length of time it had taken to locate the new nobility had been unacceptably long. Especially seeing as someone among them already knew, but to be the first to announce their location would be strong circumstantial evidence that they were the one behind the first attempt at assassination, so whoever it was kept their lips sealed. Though speculation run rampant that it was the merchant Mercurio’s former patrons.
“Yes, your lord. We are sure.” The bondsman replied confidently. It had been a long process of elimination, whittling away each coastal town and island along the merchant’s route.
“Well, then. Where are they?” He prodded expectantly.
“Wester Ponente.” He answered without hesitation
“The pioneer Isle?” His eyes flicked upward as if trying to recall something, anything regarding the island, its location and surroundings.
“Yes.” He added confidently. They had finally had confirmation of the family's existence.
“Wester Isles,” The Lord had finally remembered the location and the nearby Isles. “Which Lord owns those or has the closest holdings bar the crown?” he pondered out loud.
“The Baron of Corus is the Lord with the closest Island.” He kept his answers brief and to the point. He had already prepped for any such questions as these before bringing his information forward.
“Corus, Favon, Wester Levante . . .” he muttered to himself. “We will have to support Baron Corus in expanding his domain to the west if we are to envelop the new lord into our position. Approach the Baron and ensure he is on board with our plans before setting sail to see them through. A vote in the House of Lords is worth the investment if not now then when he comes of age. This will have to be brought up among our supporters. It is unlikely that we will be acting alone. See to it, Aeson, that we make the first move and that if anyone else is making any moves on them, their plans are permanently halted.” He commanded before turning toward the House of Lords. This potato was about to get a little hotter to hold.
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“I will, my lord.” He bowed and retreated to find the Baron before arranging funds and passage to the Wester Isles for himself. He would be away from the capital for a while.
. . .
“The games grow afoot.” Seneschal smiled, reading the reports of his servants. However, spies would be a more accurate name for the men and women living in the palace's walls, keeping it running and listening in to every whispered conversation in its corridors.
“Game?” The Prince asked, lifting his head from studying the border map of the area between his country and Libeccio. They might be called the compass kingdoms, but the borderline did not follow the bearing southwest without a little fluctuation. The border was not a straight line but made around the features of the land, and on occasion, the other races had built their own kingdoms in between them or alongside them. Humanity did not generally worry as much about the other noble races as they did about the abutting human kingdoms. They were far more likely to find themselves at war with them. Plus, the human kingdoms had quickly bound themselves together to repulse them on the few occasions that the other noble races had threatened or started a war. A common enemy made allies of the worst of them. In most years, the base race excursions from the Lodestone provided that enemy to unite them. Still, this last decade had seen few eruptions of their kind. The tension along the southern border with Libeccio had only worsened with the growing number of pirates that, for all intents and purposes, were nothing but Libeccian privateers.
“The two sides of the House of Lords, the West and the East, seem to have discovered the location of the Silversea house.” His seneschal explained.
“Surprised it has only just happened.” He shrugged. “Someone surely already knew.” not particularly concerned about the development.
“Of course, but they could not reveal that without earning your ire. After all, whoever reveals that they know first is the prime suspect in the assassination. Now though more members are aware, people will be able officially to act on the knowledge of something that your proclamation of protection forced them to wait for before they could act.” He continued. “It is all rather entertaining, especially because it provides us with such a splendid distraction for the court.”
“You are not concerned that allowing the two sides to play such games will form a poor first impression of the house and of me for letting it happen.” The prince asked.
“If anything, it will be an accurate first impression of the court and, realistically, bar stationing soldiers out there to defend against the depths. There is nothing more that you could have done beyond your own original proclamation. The Silversea family should be grateful enough for your support as it is. Lady Acacia knows how the game is played and will not be expecting anything more. It is time for the house to stand on its own two feet and make its own way in the world. Your proclamation will hopefully keep things less than lethal and keep the issue open and distracting until the time that they attend court.” He extrapolated.
“Very well. Now if you could focus on the matter at hand.” He reprimanded gently, focusing his seneschal’s attention on the maps spread over the table. “We need . . .”
. . . .
Further south in Libeccio
“I’ve finally found the perfect gift for you to return, Emir.” His Vizier advised as he opened a gilded box to present the gift he had found.
“A dragonling’s egg?” the Emir questioned. “The box is a fine piece of display work but a dragonling’s egg? They are more pest than predator.” He seemed unimpressed with the sapphire blue stone that sat on a bed of velvet within or the idea of sending one as a return present.
“This one has the finest pedigree, my liege. Bred for speed and efficiency in hunting, it will make a fine pet for a young noble lord. Consider your potential partner in trade. They are a common-born family, provincial nobles at best and located on the horizon’s edge. Dragonlings might be common enough in the southern kingdoms of the Compass continent. But beyond Libeccio, Ostro and Scirocco, they are exotic and rare, hard creatures to find and prized all the more for their rarity.” He expounded on his idea explaining its potential.
“Will it even survive further north?” somewhat sceptical.
“Of course, they stay south more through preference than need, and some have been known to migrate higher north in warmer years. Still, the island of Wester Ponente is hardly known for its cold climate.” He answered unwaveringly.
“It’s hardly known at all. Very well, this ought to balance out the scales a little, and we will have to see how well it is received.” He considered the possibility that this might balance the scales somewhat.