Harin knocked on the large door, putting his head down and taking a deep breath.
“What’s your business?” A gruff voice asked through the door.
Harin chuckled. “I might ask you the same,”
The door opened, a man inside giving a bow to Harin. Brago stepped forward, making the large man guarding the door take a step back. Not used to being intimidated, the man eyed Brago for a few moments before deciding he was out matched.
Harin rubbed at his face to stop himself from laughing. Men of war were always sizing each other up. His father had a famous saying in Landor. He’d always check when he entered a room to make sure he could kill everyone inside of it.
As a child, he’d thought his father a marvel. A war hero. As a king, he cursed his father’s stubbornness.
Birds chirped from floors above them. The echoing through the house let Harin know that it was empty, or almost empty.
“Where is she?” He asked the man. “Come Othel, must we do this every time?”
“To be fair sire, she is a princess in her own right. I have a hard time making sense of who to listen to some days,” Othel shrugged.
The man was shorter than Brago but just as wide. He was dressed in respectable clothing, nothing flashy, but clearly had some coin for fashionable clothing. The blade at his side, it’s golden hilt let Harin know that the muscle that his sister had hired knew his weapons.
“Is that Alec’s mark on the hilt?” Harin asked.
Othel smiled a tooth grin, then started to pull the hilt of the dagger from his belt.
Brago stepped between Othel and Harin immediately.
Othel sneered, but stopped himself from pulling the weapon out of his belt.
“It’s okay Brago,” Harin put his hand on his Praetorian’s shoulder.
Othel held his sneer, watching Brago move away, but not more than a step from between Harin and Othel.
“Aye, he owed me a favour,” Othel added.
The stink of his breath made Harin want to gag, but he held his composure. This muscle that his sister hired was interesting. Not many men were owed a favour by the best bladesmith in Landor. Especially not one that made blades for Landor’s royalty and most of the royalty in the eastern nations.
“We are here for Anastasia, I’ll see myself up Othel,” Harin nodded to Othel and walked past him.
His sister had chosen to take up residence in their family home. One that his mother had lived in since she was a child. The main floor housed two twin suitcase on either side of the home, each of them reaching up into the second floor, wrapping up, out and inward. The great staircases were of beautifully polished woods from places that Harin had never been.
Harin’s other grandfather, one he’d only know in his childhood had been a sea captain. Well traveled and rich. He’d imported much of the inner decorations of the home Harin had known his whole life.
Harin made his way up the suitcase, pulling on the rail as he went. He couldn’t help but think of memories of his father chasing him, with Fabien as he slid down the railings to the main floor. He smiled.
The second floor of the house was made up of a large central room with bedrooms off of the main living area. Harin moved forward, straight to the back of their childhood home to the staircase that was well hidden behind a false wall.
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He climbed the stairway, this one old and worn in the center from years of travel up and down.
As he emerged into the third floor, he smiled. The upstairs was made up of where the roof peaked. Each wall on al four sides peaked upwards to the center. A bed, a desk and chairs was all that filled the space. It had been Anastasia’s room for as long as Harin could remember. She always wanted to be alone, to have space to herself. His father had laughed when he’d asked about it as a boy.
“She’s wild son, she wants to be free,” Dragh had told Harin.
Harin hadn’t understood. Not until he’d grown. His sister was free, she was her own person. She was not meant for dresses and parties. She was meant for greater things. Her calling was to power. If she’d been born before Harin, she’d be sitting on the throne.
Which was why he’d come.
“Brother!” Anastasia said, getting up from behind the plain wooden desk. She wore a plain dress, her hair down, curly and swaying from side to side.
Harin watched as papers fluttered atop the desk at Anastasia's sudden movement. As she grew closer, she put her hands out. The ink stains on her thumb and forefinger standing out.
“Sister,” Hair embraced her.
The hug lasted as long as it needed to. As long as they needed to tell each other it was okay. Harin had been angry at Anastasia for what she’d found about Gallis. He’d not wanted to hear it.
“Brago,” Anastasia greeted the Praetorian.
Harin looked between them, catching something that he’d seen before, in his own study when they’d been talking of his fathers abandonment to the south.
“Princes,” Brago said, his face strained.
The moment lengthened. Anastasia smiled, one eyebrow raised at the Praetorian.
Harin cleared his throat, Brago snapped back to the present, looking at Harin.
“We must speak sister,” Harin said nodding forward.
“I hear that your man here,” Anastasia nodded to Brago. “Is going to replace Gallis,”
Brago’s cheeks turned a Hugh of pink Harin had not seen before.
“Ana, why are you spying on me?”
Harin scolded his sister. He knew that the game was afoot, she had her strike, but he had his chance to have one over on her. “Do you know what I’d ask of you?”
The sound of birds chirping, calling to each other was louder now, just above their heads.
“Did you start a new line?” Harin asked.
Anastasi perked up. “I did! Father brought me a gift from the south, a nest with eggs. They hatched yesterday. The aviary is excited,”
Harin smiled. His sister had loved birds since they were young.
“What brings you here brother?” Anastasia asked, sitting back down.
Harin helped himself to the chair in front of her desk and crossed his legs, adjusting Dawnbringer in her scabbard. “I’m leaving,”
Anastasia looked at Harin, then to Brago. “Tell me that you’re not foolish enough to do what I think you’re going to do,”
Harin laughed. “To put myself at the whim of the Council, in the most dangerous place within the entire East? I’d never dream of it,”
Anastasia blew air through her nose. “Are you bringing him?”
Harin looked back at Brago who had a pained look on his face. His eyebrow were knitted.
“We are marching within the week. The call for the Legion’s has been put out. I need something from you Ana,” Harin said.
“As usual brother. What is it?”
“I need something from you. I come here to ask because I know it will cost you,”
Anastasia gave her brother a questioning look. One that Harin had not seen often on her face. The top floor of this house may not look like much, but it was the headquarters of the largest spy cabal in the east. Anastasia’s business was more lucrative than her grandfather’s merchants business had ever been. Her business was like the Church of Zufiers. Information.
“I’m surprised that you don’t know already Ana,” Harin surprised a laugh.
A slight breeze sept through the room from an open window. The papers on Anastasia’s desk fluttered, but did not move.
Brago chuckled behind Harin. He wanted to ask the Praetorian what made him laugh, an oddity for the usually stoic man.
Realization dawned on Anastasia’s face. “Oh, you think that I plan to stay here while you play at war?”
Now it was Harin’s turn to be confused. “Where do you think you’ll be going?”
Brago snorted.
Harin turned to his Praetorian. “What is it?”
Brago turned a shade of red. “Nothing, sorry sire,”
Harin turned back to Anastasia.
“I will be marching with you brother,”
Harin and Brago both made noses of shock. Harin head Brago’s as he made his own. He felt his jaw drop, starring at his sister. She sat, smug in her comment.
“No, I forbid it,”
Anastasia looked on as if Harin hadn’t spoken. “I think not dear brother, I will not be asked to stay here, to look after the crown while you are off playing at war.
“You will not being coming to war with us. We are simply going to the Skellen Pass to serve the Tim that our father refuses to. The Council wants their power over us. I will allow them to have this victory so that we do not face the prospect of another war. The Compact is all that keeps us safe right now.
“If you still believe that, then you need to read your histories again brother. The Compact is only keeping us safe for as long as men are willing to uphold it. The Compact means nothing if the armies behind it are not strong enough to support The Council. That is what they gain by the Legions of all nations in the east rotating through the Pass,”
“Power,” Harin said.
“Power,” His sister agreed.
“So, who’s coming with us?” Anastasia asked.
“Us?” Harin said.
Anastasia got up from her desk and moved over to a side table where she grabbed a jug and poured three glasses of ale. She turned back. “Of course, I’ll be going with you, stop this arguing, you know that I will win out. I always do brother,”
Harin starred at his sister, the same look his grandfather had held when he faced an opponent in the throne room. A look that had withered men before him. His sister didn’t flinch. She knew the tricks of royalty.
“Marius and the Fourth. The Sixth, Eight, Third and The Dragon Legion will have to protect the nation,”
“Father will not be pleased,” Anastasia said.
Harin scoffed. “I am the king of Landor, not father. I do not take my leave by him, I am in command. I care not what he thinks,”
“Sure, brother, Marius knows his business. He will not lead us astray,”
“My people tell me that the Church has already met with Councilman Jard. They conspire openly now,” Harin said to his sister.
Anastasia nodded. “The Council, the Church, they hear all. We are fighting a war with them, in the darkness, in the gutters of Landor. We fight them on the docks, in the taverns, in the street. They are everywhere. My people are having a hard time keeping up. Let alone buying what information we have to buy,”
Information. That was the war he would be fighting now. The Council, fed information by the Church of Zufier. He’d always suspected, but to hear his sister confirm it after his father had made the acquisition. That was all that he needed.