The session in the senate had already begun. A middle-aged senator with handsome Nevan features was talking about the current situation.
Censor Marius Vinnicus leaned in to whisper to his friend, Senator Grillo Amillos. “Scipio seems to be in a better mood today.”
“Mm. Perhaps he passed the stones that were causing him such discomfort.”
Marius laughed at that, which drew some shocked, and some annoyed glances in their direction.
Censor Scipio Calguri raised an eyebrow, and sniped, “Well, I’m glad the threat of war overhanging our empire can elicit such amusement from my esteemed fellow.”
Grillo whispered to Marius, “Sorry about that.”
“I was merely responding to some of the senator’s outlandish suggestions. My apologies, esteemed Censor. I will endeavour to maintain decorum.” Marius said to Scipio. This caused Grillo to let out a slight snicker as he bit his knuckle to stop himself from laughing. Marius added, “Senator Luvium, please, do go on.”
“We need to decide what it is we will do about this latest escalation. A fleet of twenty or so ships under normal circumstances would be a concern but would easily be dealt with by a show of force. However, these are Halder vessels! It would take at least two hundred ships to address this threat. And I stand by that. This is a threat!” the senator finished. He cast a furtive glance toward Scipio, who gave an almost imperceptible nod.
Grillo caught the exchange and made a mental note of it. Grillo stood and looked toward the elderly magistrate. The magistrate intoned, “The floor recognises Senator Amillos.”
“Thank you, your honour. Now we know the fleet that the Halder delegation had arrived in Raugus, comprising twenty or so ships. Would it not stand to reason that this fleet is not so much a provocation, as it is merely, er, for want of a better way of putting it, Prince Thayn’s ride home?”
There was some laughter and a few ‘here, here’s’ of agreement bouncing around the chamber. Grillo continued, “I mean, it stands to reason as they arrived by ship. They are heading to Disipica, where a fleet large enough to carry them is heading. Surely, even an illiterate peasant at the market knows that one coin plus one coin equals two coins.” With that, he sat back down to some more laughter.
Scipio was glaring at him with undisguised loathing. The same senator from before stood, and the magistrate recognised him to speak. “Well, that is certainly a plausible scenario. But we need not be reminded of the loss of life and the carnage caused by this group of, let’s face it, dirty barbarians who worship battle and glorify death and slaughter.”
“Oh, that is a disgusting thing to say!”
“Order, order!” shouted the magistrate. “Refrain from interrupting, Senator Amillos! Please, continue Senator Luvium.”
“Thank you, your honour. As I was saying, these men have been left to roam freely through our domain, leaving a trail of death and destruction. Are we supposed to merely allow this affront to go unanswered? I yield the floor.”
Grillo stood once again, “Need I remind you all that it was citizens of our domain who were wearing the uniform of our domain’s military that committed an atrocity on those ‘filthy barbarians’ as the senator so colourfully called them. They were here investigating with the consent and authorisation of a high-ranking Nevan official who does, in fact, have the powers to give such permission. From the rhetoric that is being offered in this, our esteemed hall of governance, it would seem that you want war. Do you want war, Senator Luvium? Because it would be a war of offence, as we are the guilty party who gave such offence, regardless of whether it was sanctioned or not. I yield.”
“Does anyone have anything else to add?” the magistrate asked. Scipio stood up, and the magistrate raised an eyebrow. However, he stated, “The floor recognises the esteemed Censor Scipio Calguri.”
“We are an empire, and we have initiated many campaigns of expansion with no justification, with no provocation, simply because it is the right of Nevans to rule all that we survey as, no doubt, Senator Amillos knows firsthand.” This comment drew a few gasps and a look of chagrin from Grillo. “If we are to go to war with this filth that believe they are a ‘nation’, a laughable notion, but I digress. We need no justification, but we do, in fact, have justification. The justification is that it is high time these barbarians learned their place - at the feet of their betters. So war, if that is the decision reached, is not wrong by any stretch.”
Scipio sat down. To the surprise of all Marius stood and weighed in, as he rarely, if ever, spoke in session. “My esteemed fellow citizens and senators. I understand many of you present, including a large contingent of senators, have served in the legions, as have I. Well, I still do, as many of you do. If we go to war, I go to war, and so too will many of you. Firstly, we have faced this enemy before, and it will be a war fought on the seas. A war that will cost us dearly, simply because Halder has a significant advantage. Secondly, we have a treaty with the Halder king, which includes all his people. We violated that treaty. It matters not how it happened, only that it did happen. Bear that in mind should we attempt to make treaties in the future. If we go to war as things stand now? We will have no honour! No foreign leader would ever trust us to abide by any treaty! Think about that, should the decision to go to war with the Halder people be put to the vote. Thank you”
With that, Marius returned to his seat. The magistrate declared, “Now that all arguments have been put forward, we will table a motion to declare total war on the Halder nations for conquest and annexation into the greater Nevan Empire. All those in favour, cast your white stone for aye…”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
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The barges carrying the remaining huscarls, along with Orn and Gereld propelling their respective barges, turned into the riverbank on the outskirts of Disipica. Thayn gathered his huscarls, Ansar, the Avdlaks and Gereld once they were all ashore. The group mounted up ready to head into the city.
“We’ll ask the gate guard for directions to the docks. I want to check if our ships have arrived from Bosberg. If they have, we will move in force on the arena,” said Thayn.
“We should probably attend as spectators first, and see if we can find out anything,” suggested Gereld.
“Actually, that makes sense. Venna?”
“I will head there, and I will take Orn and Erik. Shufi can stay with you as your translator,” Venna responded.
“Well, we shall see you later, then.”
“Venna, would you mind if I joined you?” asked Gereld.
“I think it might be advisable to have your skills with his grace. I have Orn, should we need something unconventional.”
“Very well.”
“Orn, Erik. With me.” Venna spurred her horse into a trot and headed toward the entry to the city. After a few minutes, she pulled up at the gate, and Orn spoke to the guard. Thayn approached Venna and reined in before he leaned closer. “Mind how you go, Lady Venna. I know how close we are, but we still need to be cautious about how we go about it.”
“I will. I am going there to gain information. If I see an opportunity, I will seize it otherwise, I shall wait for you.”
“Good, good. Well, we will accompany you until we get close to the arena, and then we shall continue, and take your horses with us.”
“Thayn…thank you,” Venna said sincerely as her eyes moistened slightly.
Thayn swallowed and furrowed his brow. Slightly humbled by her sincere expression of gratitude, he replied, “What is family for?” and smiled. To which Venna smiled slightly as she pushed his shoulder. “Woah, careful. You’ll knock me off my horse, and no one will take me seriously anymore.”
“No one does now,” Venna retorted playfully, as Thayn put on an injured expression while he clutched his heart melodramatically. This had them both laughing. Venna thought, ‘So this is what having a brother feels like?’ She sighed and pushed that thought aside. She had more pressing matters requiring attention as she rode into the city.
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Vannur was wandering through the street, deciding whether to watch some fights before he went to the waterfront tavern. Lost in thought, Vannur suddenly felt a sense of foreboding. He looked ahead and then he saw her! She was on horseback, and so clearly visible above the crowd, with blonde hair and a big round shield strapped to her back. Oh, there was no mistaking it. ‘Dammit, I need to get out of here!’ He thought urgently.
Frantic, he ran towards the docks, through the streets, constantly looking back over his shoulder. Vannur bumped into a local, and they both fell into a heap. Getting up, he glared at the man he had bumped into. “Watch where you’re going, sword biter!”
He continued running for what felt to him like an age. Then he dropped out of his run into a brisk walk. Recognising where he was, he turned right and half jogged, half walked over the bridge and continued toward the tavern.
He walked into the dimly lit interior and stood blinking as his eyes adjusted. Then he heard a gruff voice in a language he did not understand but knew when he heard it - Halder. His blood turned to ice. When he turned to leave, he bumped straight into the chest of another Halderman. He stepped back and his gaze climbed to the large man’s smiling face. “Goad Tach, kompannar!” the large man said cheerfully as he grabbed Vannur by the throat.
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As they paid the copper coins for the entry to the pit arena, they moved to enter, when a hand grabbed Venna’s shoulder. A decision the man regretted as she reached across with her other hand and twisted his arm over. She then drove a knee into his chest and then drove the point of her raised elbow into his back, collapsing him into a groaning heap on the ground.
Orn glanced nonchalantly at the man Venna had just slammed into the paving stones. He then said to the men gathering around them, “I am sorry about my mother. What is the issue here?”
“You can’t enter the arena with weapons. You may leave them here.”
Orn spotted several armed patrons in the crowd already moving towards the aisles to find seating. He pointed and said, “It seems you missed quite a few. Or is this how your people treat guests all the time?”
The guard who mentioned the ‘no weapons’ rule expressed his chagrin before waving them through and then moved to help his companion up off the ground. Orn smiled and breathed in deep through his nose before his mother burst his bubble. “Don’t get too cocky, son…” Orn was rolling his eyes. “I saw that.”
His eyes went wide, then he turned around exasperated, and said, “You are going to have to tell me how you know every time!”
“It is a talent from Freidig that all mothers are gifted with,” she retorted smugly.
The three of them moved through the milling patrons and found some seating near the front. They were about to sit down when someone yelled at them in Nevan. They turned to look at who was addressing them however, only saw a man moving rapidly up the tier, casting fearful glances back at them.
Then in Nevan, an announcer yelled across the arena for quiet and then announced the next fight.
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The ship rose and dipped gently with the motion of the calm waves nudging the harbour. Holvelan sailors were wandering about the nearby stalls, bartering for supplies with coin and wool products to trade. Jarl Sigtrin, Brenda and Selti were sitting together on the deck of his ship, having some bread, honey, and a small cup of mead. In the distance could be heard the sound of several shod horses on cobblestones, which grew louder. The sound of hooves on stone soon turned to hooves on wood.
“Well, Jarl Sigtrin. I did not expect to see you here. Although it does not displease me.” Thayn said with a smile.
“Your Grace! How fare you?”
“I am well. Quite an eventful journey, though I might say. Ah, I see you have brought with you some company. Would you introduce me to your lovely companions?”
“Yes, of course, Your Grace…” Before Sigtrin could finish, Selti interrupted him as she blurted out, “Where is Erik? Is he all right? Can I see him?”
“Selti! Keep your tongue!” Brenda admonished harshly.
“Oh please, fine lady. Do not be too harsh with her. I understand. Young lady, Erik is well. He is with his mother and brother in the town. Who might you be?” Thayn asked as he dismounted and moved to the gangplank. He was about to ask for permission to board, as was right to do. However, Sigtrin shook his head and waved him aboard.
“As I was saying, Your Grace, this is Brenda Sogard…”
“Such a pleasure to meet you. Venna speaks of you kindly.”
“…and this is her daughter and Eriks betrothed, Selti. Brenda, Selti, this is His Grace, Prince Thayn Uldenson, the Duke of Skord.”
Thayn winced. “Hmm, that could be complicated.” He noticed Selti had flushed red and her mouth was open in shock, and she looked about to cry. He stepped over to her, took her hands in his and said, “Please, do not worry, I am happy to meet you. I mean, after all, if all things go well, you will be my niece.”
Selti looked at her mother, perplexed, who could only mirror her expression. Thayn went on, “Oh, forgive me. Venna, as it turns out, is my half-sister, and so Erik and Orn are my nephews. Isn’t life a strange and whimsical thing?”