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Treachery Lurks
3. A Chancellor's Woes

3. A Chancellor's Woes

Lonsdale, count of Huntsman and Chancellor of the Leidorf Duchy, walked across the Palace halls paying no heed to busy servants frantically lighting hundreds of torches spread out across the edifice. He exuded an intimidating, aristocratic aura but within his mind, was a clear antithesis of what he visibly showed. Panicked but not unperturbed, anxious but calm and stressed but excited. No Chancellor in history of this duchy has experienced what I just experienced! Never has this duchy suffered such violent turmoil. And here I am right at the centre of this swirling vortex of depression. 

The Chancellor pinched his nose in mild irritation and continued up the stairs towards his Liege's solar. Calm down Lonsdale! You're the most influential, prestigious and powerful vassal of the Duke! My late father would always say, 'In every calamity, there's always an opportunity to strive.' Honestly, I never knew what he meant until now... I could strive. I could even advance the position of House Huntsman to Imperial positions. But do I even want to? I already have a comfortable position in this duchy to exert my house's influence, be it of trade or selling favours for bountiful rewards. That drunkard heir is also within my finger tips, he has my vassal as his lecturer and his trainer is my sister's brother in law. It's a shame I can't bind Ser Elvaughn towards my influence. He rejected every attempts of my cousins to court him! Does he not now that most knights don't adhere to the vows of chastity? That honourable fool is missing out. I guess I could further wrap the future duke under our house's control. Unfortunately, that would mean selling one of my daughters to that lecherous dunce. He'd not only dishonour them for those 'consorts' but pump out bastards that may be a threat to my future grandchildren. 

Allure forgive me for going in an unnecessary tangent whilst there's a disaster causing grief to your creations! Count Huntsman repented contritely. He was taken out of his musing after noticing Ser Elvaughn and him following behind. Speak of the devil!

"Ser Elvaughn and your grace. Both of you must be going towards Duke Albrecht's solar." The Count took a firm but swift glance towards the heir. I had such high expectations of you. Lonsdale mentally sighed.

Seirun flinched and started to fidget and nearly stammered while responding but thankfully was saved by the Castellan.

"That's right. I've come to give a report to his grace."

"That's a fortunate coincidence then because I have good news to tell to his grace." And bad news was left unsaid.

The three continued towards the Duke's solar and was instantly appraised by alert guards, but was fast enough to stand to the side and salute as soon as they seen who they were potentially stopping. 

A herald quickly announced their arrival, "Your grace, your Chancellor, Castellan and heir are here to see you."

They quickly shuffled into the enormous room adorned by numerous taxidermied exotic animals, with a richly embroidered carpet with mosaic patterns and bountiful amounts of tapestries depicting the history of house Leidorf. Adjacent to the Duke sat a portrait of a woman in her twenties, dressed in an aristrocratic dress with golden epaulets right at her shoulder. Long dark blonde hair sweeping her sides and a corset complementing her chest. Bright green eyes immediately gazes upon those entering the solar. That must be the late duchess. Her stare is almost impossible to ignore.

Seirun mournfully glanced upon her dead mother but was quick to clamp down his grief.

"The fact that you're all here means you've completed the tasks I've given you." The Duke assertively said ignoring his son entirely.

"That's right, your grace, me and Mayor Grendell have managed to organise the influx of refugees at the outskirks of Grey City. It's slowly turning into a tent city, and the steward and several courtiers is complaining how it would damage the beauty and splendour of this city." Ser Elvaughn professionally reported with a hint of sarcasm at the end.

"Steward Destein has enough of a duty to procure food for those refugees and to stockpile existing silo and larders to prepare for a punitive campaign. I'm disappointed he also has time to complain about my desperate subjects." The Duke silently shouted in dismay.

Lonsdale was quick to dispel the Leidorf temper and promptly informed his liege, "Your grace, I have good news."

"What?" Growled the ill-tempered Duke.

"Several of your vassals have responded to your call for mobilisation. They're gathering their levies and men at arms as we speak."

"Bad news?" 

"Some may take a week to fully call upon their levies and mobilise. So we only have manpower coming directly from your lands and baronies and counties close to you. It's also unfortunate that your vassals close to the areas being raided have prioritised fending off scattered groups of bandits instead of gathering at a preferred rallying point." Those disobedient fools better owe me! No one ignores or disregards the Duke's orders without consequences. Perhaps I should extract some profitable concessions out of them. It is only right because I'm shielding them.

"As long as their defending their lands and their people, then it's fine by me. Lonsdale and Ser Elvaughn tell me how many men can we muster within two or three days."

"My county can currently contribute a thousand men, but forgive me for not knowing how many men your other vassals can contribute. I'm afraid even I don't know their state of their roads. "

"I could organise the Grey city militia and pick the best out of them. I could roughly guess about two thousand maybe more, but I do need Grendell's permission. And the lands surrounding the city could probably raise about a thousand within 3 days." The Castellan said.

"Then you have the Mayor's permission." The Duke said with absolute authority and was ready to continue with a devious smile, "Perhaps this disaster can give us a good indication on which lords have misappropriated their exemptions of tax by not maintaining their roads properly."

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Seirun winced as he heard his father speak. 'Is this how he speaks to his counselors. I find it kind of... intimidating. Would I ever be like him one day? Ser Elvaughn says I can but the looks the other Court Counselors gave no agreement. Notably from the Chancellor. What did I ever do to him?' He thought and mentally frowned.

"Lonsdale collaborate with Destein on how much food and other logistics are needed to keep an army of four thousand or more afloat."

"As you command your grace."

"Ser Elvaughn, I want you and Grendell to further provide housing for the refugees and food as well. Take as much gold as you can and pay the innkeepers to spare any room for them."

"Understood your grace."

A sudden knock at the door interrupted them. A bewildered look took form in Chancellor Lonsdale's face which swiftly turned to wrath. Who would dare interrupt us! And to come in without the herald announcing their presence... Such insolence!

A man in his forties with greying dark brown hair entered the solar purposely without any hint of fanfare, and dutifully bowed before the Duke.

Both the Chancellor and Seirun glared at the man. The former because he just broke tradition and the latter because 'he was nothing but a mere servant.'

Lonsdale didn't know what to think of Romen. At first he was quite dismissive of him and questioned why he was in such good favour with the Duke. So he tried to sway him to his side thinking himself smart that he could have the Duke's confidant as his puppet. How stupid was I to attempt that. He quietly snorted at that. Even till this day I don't know why Romen is strongly connected to the Duke. I originallly thought that he was a competent spymaster, but their strong friendship doesn't support that. No mere commoner can even achieve this except for him.

"Ah! Romen come over here and sit." The Duke pointed at one of the empty seats next to Seirun.

As the lowborn Head Servant took his position, Seirun took time to glare at him again. Romen responded with his rictus smile.

"What information do you have for us today?"

"Your grace allow me to thank you for letting me sit." Romen graciously said. "I have regrettable news. The vassals that have chosen to fight against the bandits seem to be losing ground. Several more villages have been razed to the ground. They report that the bandits are incredibly well armed and well trained enough to easily push back levies."

Both the Chancellor and Castellan simultaneously blanched at that.

"Our north-west-south borders are on fire." Romen plowed on.

"Lonsdale send envoys to neighbouring duchies, counties and baronies that are not my vassals. Tell them that the situation here is under control -" the Duke sarcastically extended the word "- and that we will mobilise an army to kill these scum, and that they should not be worried. Firmly, tell them that any armies crossing the border will be treated as bandits and be killed. In a more diplomatic manner of course."

The Chancellor didn't know how to respond and just faintly nodded. I will be very busy then. Thankfully, diplomacy is one of my greatest strengths. Let's pray to Allure that the other dukes, counts and barons of the Empire are sensible enough to take the hint and not exploit Leidorf's vulnerability. He heaved a desperate sigh. A sinister feeling crept to his mind , maybe this is all their doing, but was pushed out entirely. That's ridiculous. No patriotic nobleman of the Empire will do such a thing. Most notably in this Duchy which is a centre for trade! If they are responsible, they'll be slashing themselves at their foot.

"Now. Seirun as much as it pleases me to see you here where you should be, allow your father to be curious. Why are you here?"

"I want to be part of the punitive campaign." Seirun boldly stated.

The Chancellor nearly scoffed at that. Your the only heir! Your father will never risk putting you in such danger.

Ser Elvaughn predicted this would happen and just sat inaudibly curious to how his Liege will respond.

The Duke and the Head servant briefly looked at each other.

"Why do you want to be in the campaign?" 

"I want to earn my spurs and show my worth to my lessers... to my future subjects!" Seirun unhesitatingly responded. 

Ser Elvaughn balled his fists and elevated them to his forehead and took a silent sigh.

The rest simply looked on in disappointment.

The fifteen year old boy looked around the room. 'Again! What's with these looks I keep getting! Do they not want me to prove my worth!' Seirun mentally ranted about perceived injustices that he keeps receiving.

Ser Elvaughn lost his patience and nearly shouted at the boy, "Do you think practicing bouts is the same with fighting in a war!"

The Duke looked at the knight in approval.

"Fighting in bouts gets you bruises but in a war... You may die. Or worse."

"What's worse than dying?" Seirun replied in morbid curiosity.

"You could survive with injuries. You may be lucky and only get a scar but you could have your legs and arms amputated, to stop the bad humours from spreading. Can you even comprehend your self as a cripple?" The knight asked poignantly.

Seirun was frozen with eyes widening in fear. His breathing getting more frequent and harder. 'No I can't,' he said in a half whisper.

The Duke satisfied by their conversation quickly added on, "Your reasoning for it is also disappointing."

The boy quickly looked to his father wondering why earning his spurs is not enough. 'How come it is disappointing? Surely father realises that it would give me prestige and praises when I join this campaign. And with prestige comes power! This could strengthen House Leidorf and the duchy!'

The Duke stopped his son's musing with a lecture, "You will be the Duke when Allure deems me worthy to be in her Garden. As a Duke you'll have immense power, and with that comes great burden and responsibility. Your now responsible for over a million lives -" the Duke paused to let it sink in "- A million lives that depend on you and your leadership. You can't just dismiss them as 'peasants', you also can't dismiss their worries and issues.

"These lives are not just numbers. They're also capable of feeling emotions like you and I. They have dreams and aspirations. They have sons, daughters, fathers or mothers." The Duke paused to remember Elaena. "You remember your mother right?"

Seirun nodded in a sombre mood.

"As these bandits continue to raze villages, hundreds of mothers are dying by their sword." The chances of them being violated was left unsaid to not traumatise the boy. "Right now, hundreds of young men and children are losing their mothers. Some even dying with them."

Seirun clenched his fist and gritted his teeth in absolute fury. "Father can I please join the campaign."

The Duke repeated his previous question.

"Because I don't want people to suffer like me when losing their mothers!" 

The Castellan listened with rapt attention and was joyful at the response.

It's all about you in the end isn't it Seirun... Well at the very least it's a better reason. The Chancellor looked at the future Duke with some admiration. But this still doesn't erase your hobbies. Lonsdale thought back to Seirun's whores.

Albrecht smiled happily towards his son. 'If Elaena were here he would be proud of you.' "You can join the campaign with two conditions." The Duke said firmly.

"I will gladly accept any condition."

"One is that you'll have to be under guard at all times, and you'll always be in their sight. So no sneaking off! Two is that you won't be commanding the men. You're simply too inexperienced and so have to listen and follow orders from Ser Elvaughn."

"I accept." Seirun said gleefully.