8.5

Jewel had eventually found Mother tallying up the household’s store of spun wool and comparing the qualities.

In short order they were able to hurry to the feasting hall in time to meet up with Father. Before they even settled down she was speaking to him in a hushed voice. Not enough to hide her words from Jewel but concealing her parent’s council from any of the staff.

“This is sooner than the Countess promised.”

Father shook his head and sighed heavily.

“The Countess and the other lords had more hope than certainty that the king would not act until after the first summer season. A refusal given now by her won’t change the mustering of armies by either the Realm or Viznove and her allies.”

Mother huffed and shook her head as they settled down at their places.

“For the acts of armies and arms, yes, there is little change but to have a crier running up and down the county and beyond calling the Countess unjust? Denying her right to rule? It will rile up the peasantry and even some of the less loyal lords and counts. Undermine all you’ve worked to do with the risk of rebellion!”

Jewel tried to settle her coils upon her own furniture; an official messenger from the King of the Realm was one of those occasions she had to sacrifice comfort for appearances if ever there was one.

Father’s words were sharp and harsh.

“What would you have me do? It’s a Messenger of the Realm! He is under protection by the auspices of Honor and Hospitality even besides his role!”

Mother scowled and hissed sharply back, loudly and obviously enough some of the milling staff were giving Jewel’s parents concerned looks. They rarely quarreled openly (Jewel’s ears knew for a fact they would certainly have some rather intense rows in private).

“The Messenger of a King and a Realm that you and the Countess will be in open rebellion against! Who will report all he sees here and further in Viznove to the lords and officers of the Realm’s army! It is your duty to Viznove, Rochford and your Family to do something about this!”

Father was silent and Jewel could smell his fear rising stronger in his sweat even as his face looked like nothing but consideration and weariness touched him.

Before either of them could continue, the day’s crier entered the hallway.

Announcing their guest despite everyone present already knowing.

“The honorable house of Rochford welcomes the messenger and representative of The King of the Realm of Blessed Cantor Reborn the Solar Dynasty Apparent: Mathias of Royal House Stein. Heed his messenger as bearer of the king’s word abroad.”

And then the doors opened and the same heraldry Jewel had spotted riding in from the northern woods entered on the body of what must have been a man barely out of boyhood.

He could hardly be a winter older than Smithson at best.

The dust of the road and the smell of horse sweat still clung to him but he stood tall despite the (obvious to Jewel) tremors of ache from riding as the Messengers did. Trading horses on the King’s authority wherever he found their strength spent.

An effort that could devour a hundred miles or more in a day.

Less if the route passed by overway on the canyon road perhaps.

But still at a pace that was only beaten by wings through an open sky.

Father stood and, as was appropriate for the words of the King of the Realm, he bent at the waist and bowed half ways.

“The Barony of House Rochford acknowledges the messenger of the King. Deliver his word.”

The man reached into his messenger pouch and took out a scroll. Holding it aloft to present to Father the unbroken seal of The Realm’s high court.

He marched up to Father with both hands on the scroll and held straight with locked elbows in front to show no capacity for violence. Offering the seal for Father’s inspection.

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Jewel glanced over at it as he passed, considering the seal that held so much portent and power back.

That so little beeswax and colored shining metal mixed together could mean so much.

The glittering crimson seal was nearly fully encircling the fine vellum in a band of red. The scroll barely thicker than Father’s smallest finger. Where the mark was pressed, one could easily discern the full coat of arms of the King of the realm.

Unbroken and uncracked in spite of the trials it must have faced in reaching them from the capital.

Jewel had never seen one unbroken like this.

Father nodded his acknowledgement of receipt of an untampered missive and then the Messenger stood back and broke the red wax to unfurl a forearm length of what, if Jewel was not mistaken, was a yearling’s vellum at oldest.

From a younger animal than Rochford would ever have slaughtered for parchment.

A stupendous waste.

“For the crumes of murder most fool of the ladies of hur court to be counted at leust to a full score blud deathed and hurtly much, it is declored by Oorder of High King Mathias of the Royal House Stein, Furst of hus name that the once Countess Alžbeta Bátoriová”

Jewel had to take a moment to untangle the absolutely awful mispronunciation before she realized who the messenger was even talking about. Furthermore, his words struck her ears with a wobbling and yet stilted manner that while perhaps a bit like the smoother tones of the Countess Bathory felt deeply misshapen and at odds with actually being understood.

Did the king send someone addled in the mind or tongue to insult Father? But no there was no sign of affront from either Mother or Father so this must just be some expected foreigner thing.

“Effectuve immediute all tituls, allegiunce and pacts of vassaulage are declured trunsferred to the regent proper and rightous of the counties Viznove, Zekhedge and Grortovo to Juraj Turzo. Who so farthung elevuted is to the rank of low-king to hus High King’s Will execute upon Viznove and all lords thereun as well as well as the neighborings counts.”

Jewel drew back her ears as she listened to words said half right, names utterly mangled and an ordering of the words barely coherent.

The disturbing misspeaking made the overly rounded vowels of Tsulogothulan seem crisply cut and clear.

But in spite of the near unintelligibility of the King’s messenger, Father nodded.

Then he spoke, clear and concise and blessedly understandable.

“The Accusations of The Crown of the Realm of Blessed Cantor Reborn, Solar Dynasty Apparent are found wanting and unjustified by the Barony of Rochford. As honorable vassals of Viznove we will stand with the Countess Bathory against this unlawful usurpation. Let it be known.”

The Messenger seemed to take a considerable time to come to understand Father’s perfectly concise words but then nodded.

“Givun Such I besuch you to spare horse for passuge in duty to spread word for High King.”

To which Father again calmly and clearly answered.

“Abiding and honoring the King’s Messenger Rights under noble law I will spare you a horse and an escort for your protection back the way you came to the northern border of Zekhedge. To carry the missives of Viznove so empowered as I am as First among Gryphon Lords counted from Viznove to Grortovo. But you will not be permitted to spread these lies deeper into the Countess’ lands or her neighbors.”

The Messenger who Jewel was starting to think was particularly simple and dull witted in the time he was taking to simply understand began to try and disagree or maybe just did not comprehend Father’s words.

“Horse fur travel to Countess castle Kaeketeh?”

Father turned to Mother who nodded and then Mother’s voice filled the air with complete and total nonsense.

Was Mother drunk?

But no this was not her usual speech when she went too deep into her cups.

And furthermore it was responded to with relieved words from the Messenger which Jewel could also not understand.

The two traded back and forth and Jewel could see in the Messenger’s face both concern and then taste a rising stink of fear before he slumped in resignation from a particularly curt and firm bark of something from Mother.

Jewel was silent and poised, just as she had been taught, but in her head was a rumbling of realizations.

She had thought that the words and languages of things merely changed with time. That people simply stopped using a few words. Like some of the older texts that Father had in his study or the unintelligible old speech of some of the rituals.

But Jewel had missed something.

For apparently not everyone in the modern era spoke the same tongue!?

Not even everyone in the Realm spoke the same tongue!

There was more than one!

Jewel had a deeply disturbing premonition that a great many more lessons were in her future.

Piled on top of all her other necessary training.

And the specter of War.