As he was preparing to eat his creation, the outer door opened. Relam glanced over his shoulder and saw his father, escorted by Narin.
“Afternoon, son,” the king said as he crossed the room. “You know, you could have just made two sandwiches. That way you could fit it in your mouth.”
Relam glared at his father and took an enormous bite. “Fi’s perfec’ly,” he muttered.
The king snorted and set about making his own lunch, gesturing for Narin to help himself as well. “How was training?” he asked, glancing up.
“Good,” Relam replied after he swallowed. “Cevet and I fought thirteen bouts. Six apiece, plus a draw to finish things off.”
“Not bad,” the king grunted. “Cevet, he’s the Thius’ boy, isn’t he? A little small?”
“Yes, but quick and very sharp,” Relam said before taking another bite.
“Hmm. How is Tar doing? Still training cadets by the hordes?”
“Yes,” Relam grunted. He knew that he needed to warn his father about Cevet’s news, but he was still hungry. Finally, setting his sandwich down, he leaned forward. “There’s something we need to talk about.”
“Talk later, eat now,” the king replied.
Normally, Relam would have taken this as sound advice. But seeing as Cevet had been concerned enough to reach out to him, Relam thought that he should push a little harder.
“It’s important.”
The king stopped chewing abruptly and sighed. “Relam, I’m a king. Almost everything I have to deal with is important.” Then he went back to eating.
The prince sighed with frustration. “Okay, how about really important?”
“That’s more like it! What’s eating you son?”
Relam took a deep breath. “Before Cevet and I sparred, we talked some. He wanted to warn me that the Assembly is planning-”
The outer door suddenly burst open and Marc Clemon rushed in, waving a sheaf of papers in one hand. “Your majesty!” he gasped, his normal reserve forgotten. “Urgent news! I can’t say this is a surprise but it is certainly unwelcome-”
Relam’s father held up a hand for silence. “Marc-”
“Really, your majesty, this is-”
“Marc,” the king repeated, a dangerous edge to his voice now.
“I simply can’t understand why-”
“SHUT IT!” the king roared.
Clemon, stunned into silence, blinked in surprise, then shut his mouth and adopted a look of polite interest as he waited for the king’s next command.
Relam’s father shot him a wry look. “Does this have anything to do with the warning you were supposed to give me?”
“Probably,” Relam said, putting his head in his hands. “Lord Clemon, could you give us a moment?”
“But-”
“Just until I can brief my father on recent developments.”
“Of course, your highness,” Clemon replied. “I will wait-”
“Outside,” the king finished pointedly.
“Yes, of course,” Clemon said, bowing his way out. The door shut almost noiselessly behind him.
The king sighed heavily. “Alright Relam, talk.”
Relam shifted uncomfortably. “Cevet warned me that his father mentioned that the Assembly of Nobles meant to send you a list of demands to address certain grievances they feel are more than legitimate. They want action, and quickly, to solve these problems, which they feel you have been a bit . . . lax about.”
Relam’s father merely stared at him. “Go on,” he said finally.
The prince took a deep breath. “Some of those demands are for security, a royal navy, better patrolling of trade routes. Cleaning the river is also a concern. And taxes. Cevet couldn’t tell me anything else. But apparently there is very real discord growing amongst the nobles.”
The king sat there quietly for a long moment. “I see,” he said finally. “Your mother told me as much-”
“Sorry?” Relam interjected, not quite sure he had heard right. As far as he knew, his mother was ill and had no idea how the nobility was feeling towards their king.
“Whenever she visits friends in the court, she tries to feel the pulse of the nobility,” his father explained. “She’s mentioned several times that patience is wearing thin and many nobles are frustrated.”
“You’re using her as a spy?”
“To an extent,” the king said, unabashed. “It was her idea, you know.”
Relam shook his head. “Wonders never cease,” he muttered. His frail, small mother was one of the last people he would think to use as a spy. But, Relam thought, maybe that observation in and of itself made the idea of his mother being a spy a viable one. Besides, there were different sorts of spies. His mother was well-suited to move inconspicuously about the court, under the guise of social visits, all the while gathering information for his father to act on or ignore as he chose.
“It would appear things are coming to a head,” the king mused. “I can’t pretend there aren’t problems that I would like to solve - the river for one. Every time I eat fish I worry about what the fish might have fed on.” He frowned thoughtfully. “The only problem is, there are only so many hours in a day and only so much money in the royal coffers. And you said one of the issues was taxes? Fools!” He snorted derisively. “Everything in this world costs money.”
“Nevertheless, we should at least hear them out,” Relam said. “We have a duty to the people, yes?”
“Yes,” the king agreed. “Bring Clemon back, will you Narin? I think Relam has briefed me enough.”
Narin stood quickly and went to the door, ushering in Clemon, who still looked quite agitated. The king’s chatelain stepped forward quickly and thrust a scroll into the king’s hands. “This is the message, your majesty,” he added unnecessarily.
Relam’s father rolled his eyes and unrolled the scroll scanning it quickly. Halfway down the page he stopped, frowned, then started again. Finally, he lowered the scroll to the table and tapped it thoughtfully.
“Well?” Relam said, trying to read the scroll upside down. “What does it say?”
The king flipped it around so that the others could read it easily. Relam held the scroll to prevent it from rolling back up and read the entire message slowly.
To His Majesty, King Orram
The Assembly of Nobles and its High Council has several items that it wishes to draw to your royal attention. Such items are highly important in nature, and solutions are desired to be implemented as soon as possible. Should no action be taken in response to this plea, the Assembly will be forced to consider action of its own. The issues in need of addressing are:
Greater National Security along established trade routes (Namely in the forest lands along the Furnier Sea but in other regions as well)
Expansion of the Royal Navy to create a viable patrolling force in the Southern Sea to discourage piracy
Cleansing of the Furnier River, and punishment of offenders in a manner consistent with the crime
Formation of a committee for the judicious deciding of land disputes and other matters of property allocation
Reduction of taxes on the higher classes who have so long borne the burden of funding the kingdom and its enterprises
These grievances are the five most urgent and require immediate, satisfactory action. The Assembly of Nobles and its Council shall be the sole judge of what constitutes satisfactory action. At minimum, this Assembly calls for a joint meeting of the Council, His Majesty, and any advisors His Majesty should wish to include. It is the desire of this Assembly that such a meeting take place within a week of receipt of these grievances.
The Assembly of Nobles and its High Council
Head of Assembly: Lord Thius
“It’s signed by every lord on the High Council, plus a fair number from the larger Assembly,” Lord Clemon noted as Relam finished reading.
“Yes,” the king agreed. “It’s not quite as bad as I expected, all things considered. Really, they’re ju
st whining for the most part and they have always done that.”
“They sound serious this time,” Clemon warned. “Shall I set up a meeting, your majesty?”
Relam’s father pondered this for a moment. “Tell them they may join me in the council room on the second level, above the entrance hall, one week from today at the ninth hour,” he said finally. “Make it clear that I am dictating to them, not the other way around. Narin, I would like you to be on hand but you will be the only guard in the room. Is that clear? I will not rely on military strength to deal with the Assembly.”
“Yes, your majesty,” Narin agreed. “A wise course of action given the situation.”
“Excellent,” the king said, forging on. “Clemon, I will want you there of course. And you Relam.”
“What?” Relam said, caught off guard. “You want me at the meeting as well?”
“Yes. You need to start learning how to run this kingdom. And how to deal with the Assembly. Unfortunately, they’ll be around during your reign as well.”
“And including the prince won’t seem too unusual to the Council,” Clemon mused. “Technically, even though he is not confirmed in his duties, he still ranks equal or higher than all of them.”
“Are you sure?” Relam asked, somewhat hoping that Clemon could come up with a way to keep him out of the meeting.
“Positive,” Clemon replied. “I think including you is the right thing to do, your highness. Is there anyone else you would like to include?” the chatelain continued, turning back to Relam’s father.
Orram frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t think so,” he said finally. “Let’s keep it to us four plus whoever the Assembly sends. Any thoughts on that score, Marc?”
“Lord Thius, certainly,” Clemon replied immediately. “And I should think the great lords will be there as well. Perhaps a few of the minor lords that signed the scroll . . . let’s see, Reshi may be there.”
“Jatt’s father?”
“Yes,” Clemon said in response to Relam’s question. “He is very close with the Garenes family, of course.”
“Of course,” Relam muttered scowling.
“Not many others of note here,” Clemon continued. “I shouldn’t think more than six or seven from the Assembly will show your majesty.”
“The fewer the better,” Orram muttered, picking up his sandwich again. “Clemon, have you been hearing anything about this mess? Prior to today I mean?”
“Not really,” the chatelain replied, shrugging. “Which is rather unusual. I have been out of the city for a few days - that border dispute in the swamplands, you know - so that might be part of it. But usually I hear of any disturbances long before it reaches you. Something like this I would have expected to know about days in advance. When I left the city, the Assembly was fairly calm, considering how they normally are. It would have taken a significant event to prompt this, I think.”
“You haven’t done anything especially negligent lately have you, your majesty?” Narin asked with a slight smile.
Relam’s father snorted. “No. I can’t imagine what has set this in motion. I knew they were dissatisfied . . . but this is bordering on rebellious.”
Relam’s heart froze momentarily at that. Rebellious? What was there to rebel about? The kingdom was at peace, there were no significant foes within or without, and the largest issues really were not that meaningful in the grand scheme of things.
“It’s probably just the usual bellyaching, fancied up a bit to get a response out of you,” Clemon concluded. “Nothing to be overly concerned about.” He stood and rolled the scroll up, tucking it into a pocket concealed inside his robes. “Don’t forget your majesty, tomorrow is a court day-”
“Of course it is,” Relam’s father muttered, picking up his sandwich again.
“- and next week taxes are due to arrive from the southern cities.”
“That’s better,” the king observed, chewing quietly.
“Yes, but I’m afraid that trade is still severely disrupted in many areas of the kingdom, particularly the southern sea, and along the Furnier. Those bandits, they really are getting out of control. Wouldn’t hurt to-”
“Marc,” the king said patiently. “Can this wait?”
“Well, maybe, but-”
“It can wait,” the king decided. “Let me eat my lunch in peace. I will be with you immediately afterwards.”
Clemon wilted slightly, then recovered enough to bow. “Yes, your majesty. Shall I fetch the latest finance reports in the meantime?”
“Certainly,” Orram grunted. “That should just about make my day.”
The chatelain, with no sign that he had noticed the sarcastic tone of the king’s last comment, retreated quickly to the corridor, closing the door.
Relam stared at his father, who was calmly working through his lunch as though nothing had happened. Then, he abruptly shoved back from the table, his appetite gone.
“I’ll see you at dinner,” he said brusquely, grabbing his sword from his room.
“Where are you going, your highness?” Narin asked, getting to his feet.
“Out,” Relam replied, pulling the door open.
“Where to?” Narin repeated.
Relam paused by the outer door. “I don’t really know,” he admitted.
“I have a suggestion,” the king said.
“And that is?”
“You have nothing to do this week, yes?”
“Yes.”
The king turned to Narin. “I think Relam could take care of that little item we were discussing in one week, don’t you?”
“It’s risky,” Narin murmured, glancing at Relam. “He’s inexperienced.”
“Then go with him, or send someone with him,” the king suggested.
“Who?”
Relam folded his arms across his chest. “Why don’t you tell me what and then we can decide who. And, while we’re at it, it would be nice to know where and what for as well.”
The king snorted. “Right. Well, I rather thought you might fancy taking a hundred cavalrymen and clearing out some of the bandits in the Midwood.”
Relam waited for his father to tell him what he had really been asking for, waited for Narin to object. Waited for someone to say that this was all a joke. Finally, he realized none of those things were going to happen.
“You’re serious?” he said, just to be sure.
“Wouldn’t bring it up if I wasn’t,” the king replied. “Thing is, Narin and I received intelligence today from one of our informers. He knows a man who knows someone else who knows a trader who used to trade north and south through the Midwood. Anyway, this trader was captured by the bandits. They meant to wring information from him as to when more shipments from his business were due to pass through the area. But he escaped in the night and made his way back here to Etares.”
“So we know where their camp is,” Relam said, interested.
“Yes,” Narin agreed. “And their numbers, how well armed they are and how defensible their position is.”
“And you want me to take care of them?”
“If you feel you’re up to the task.”
Relam started to accept the mission, then stopped. He noticed Narin’s tight expression, and remembered the first mission he had chosen himself for, the hunting of the assassins. His overconfidence and inexperience had lost lives that night, and could do so again if he wasn’t careful.
“I’m honored,” Relam said carefully. “But I don’t think I am ready.” He saw his father’s frown first, then Narin’s nod of approval. It was that gesture that told Relam he had made the right choice. “I’d still like to go,” he added quickly. “And maybe be in command, but I want someone along to advise me and help me figure out how to do this right. After all, I’ve never fought a real battle. I’ve never planned for one. I’ve never led a charge or studied tactics or pored over records of old battle strategies and military history. But there are people who have, and they could teach me what I need to know
to put my men in the best position to succeed without risking their lives unnecessarily.”
“Did you have someone in particular in mind?” his father asked.
Relam thought for a moment, then a dangerous idea came to him. “Oreius.”
Narin’s eyes widened and the king drew back, looking at his son shrewdly.
“You would go to a sword master who has not taken a student in many years and ask him not only to teach you how to plan battles but also to travel with you and advise you on a mission to wipe out sixty or seventy bandits?”
Relam hesitated for a moment, then made up his mind. “Yes.”
His father nodded slowly. “All right,” he said, leaning forward again. “How soon will you leave?”
Chapter 15
Relam left immediately for Oreius’ house, after getting directions from Narin. The guard commander wanted to send palace guards with the prince, but Relam declined firmly. Based on his talks with Tar Agath, he did not think that Oreius would take kindly to a princeling showing up flanked by intimidating guardsmen, ready to intervene should the old warrior try anything.
The old warrior lived along the river, a little way past Tar’s training ground. As Relam set off into the city, wrapped in a hooded cloak to conceal his identity, he reveled in the freedom of not having guards with him. Then, he remembered the task that lay ahead and tried to refocus and prepare for the encounter.
By the time Relam reached Oreius’ house, a two-story structure of stone and freshly painted wood, he still had no idea what exactly he would say to the old warrior. No argument seemed safe enough, no plea seemed likely to keep him out of the Furnier River.
The Prince (Heirs of Legacy Book 1) Page 18