by Nic Weissman
Of all the places to walk, one of his favorites was the Jasmine Garden, extending from the northern part of the estate surrounding the Royal Castle. It was a beautiful, harmonious place and fantastically kept by the royal gardeners. It had a long, wide main street with several smaller roads diverged to the sides. In different areas of the garden one could admire a great variety of flowers of all kinds. But the middle of the main street was covered exclusively by jasmines that perfumed the whole park with the slightest blow of wind.
Besides its beauty, one of the great perks of the place was its proximity to the Royal Castle, where the Royal Army had its headquarters and where he spent most of his hours. It was very convenient. Whenever he felt weighed down, he could leave the castle and within minutes was in the Garden.
Another advantage was that the royal stables were located east of the garden. Although it was a long walk to get there, it was always worth it. Bellish adored horses. And those who were in those stables were the most beautiful of the kingdom. There were thoroughbreds of nearly all races, even the noble and brave horses of the Aurum Emirates. What fantastic animals! In his time as a knight, it was not so easy to import something as bulky as a horse from so far away. Only the rich and the nobility could afford a luxury like that back then. Even today, it proved extraordinarily difficult, since the Emirs controlled with great care how many horses were sold and to whom. You could say it was part of its State policy. Bor was too far away to be a crucial ally of the Emirates, although the relations were reasonably good at the present time.
After a while, he got to the golden pond, where different colored fish brought from the lakes of the other countries swam carefree. Then the General felt a shiver throughout his body. He had felt that feeling many times. He knew what it meant.
“Hi, Mengul. It's been a couple of months since I last saw you. How have you been?” he said, as he turned to the newcomer.
“Busy,” a figure that was covered by the shade of a nearby tree said.
The strange figure had appeared suddenly, as usual. Although it was difficult to see the man's features in detail, you could see he was very old. He wore a long black robe that covered his entire body and his head was also covered by a hood. His back was slightly bent, probably because of his age. His aquiline nose was inquiring. But the most striking feature was his eyes; extraordinarily bright, alert, intelligent, scrutinizing. It seemed that nothing could escape the scalpel analysis of those eyes.
“What brings you to this garden? Surely it's not the desire to accompany an old acquaintance on his morning walk,” the General inquired.
“Sure,” the old man replied curtly.
“And? What? What do you need?” Bellish asked, impatient.
“I don't need anything. I have come to speak about disturbing rumors I've heard.”
Bellish looked at the old man, but said nothing. He waited.
“It seems that certain factions of power in Bor plan to obtain a very powerful object: the Orb of Wrath. It is possible that at this time it's already in their possession.”
“Does such a thing even exist? I thought it was an old legend, a story for children.”
“Oh, yes. It exists. I can assure you. Although it had been lost for a long time.”
“But in the stories that were told, huge calamities were caused by that device. There was talk of wars, disasters, famine. This seems very serious.”
“It is.”
“Let's walk together to a more secluded part of the garden, while we speak,” the General suggested.
Although it produced him a strange feeling of unease to walk away from the most visible areas of the garden with his companion, he decided he needed to walk to think. He also wanted to prevent any servant from hearing such dangerous news.
“Do you know who is involved?” Bellish said.
“Not quite. But it points to certain sectors of the Chamber, let's say the most progressive ones, and from the nobility. It's possible that the Army is also involved.”
The word "army" sounded like a knife in his head. But the old general was not particularly surprised. There was a lot of politics and many agendas in the Army as well and not everyone understood the military life as a pure service to the country. Some saw it more as an opportunity for personal growth.
“Let's see, then. If the orb is a powerful object, that in experienced hands can be used to provoke a war, and if they are held by the groups you mention, what do they intend to do with it? Are they thinking of starting a civil war between counties? Are they trying to unseat the King amid the confusion? Segregate a part of the country?”
“Everything is possible. It is hard to be sure. “
“What would they get with all of this?” the General asked.
“The war generates lucrative and various businesses. Many would benefit. Especially if they are prepared for it,” the old man mused.
“True. But a scenario of civil war is very chaotic. Other businesses would suffer. At least until the situation wasn't resolved with a segregation of the country.”
“I agree, but there is another scenario that we must consider.”
The general pondered for a moment and suddenly understood.
“A war with the orcs!” he exclaimed.
“Exactly,” the old man said.
“That would bring some of the benefits of the war, but would keep the country united. In addition, the Marks have always been more belligerent against the orcs, for obvious reasons. Some of the marquis are very young and probably just conceive the easy and romantic side of the war, probably because they have never experienced one.”
“And then there's the Army,” the old man added.
“Some would try to seize the excuse of a large-scale campaign to demote me into the background,” the general understood. “That son of a bitch Vargarr must be involved in this.”
The old man didn't answer. He pulled back and sat on a bench under the shade of a namal; a majestic tree. The general approached him, sat down beside him and lowered his voice.
“What can we do? What have you thought?”
“There is an option we can try. It is very risky, but now I see no other solution. In addition we have little time, we should start several preparations.”
“What do you need me to do?” the General asked.
“Nothing.”
“I don't understand,” Bellish said, surprised.
“You must stick to your agenda and activities. If you change anything, our enemies might perceive that you know something of what they are up to. We'd lose our only advantage; an advantage that is worth very little now, unless we can understand in more detail how and when they might act.”
“You're right. Meanwhile, I'll ask two of the men of my utmost confidence to be vigilant. We should meet again soon,” the general requested.
“I know where to find you. We'll talk.”
When the general took notice, he was sitting alone in that bench in the shade. The feeling of uneasiness he had felt was gone. But it had been replaced by a deep concern, because the situation could be mortally dangerous. His enemies were right about something. He was too old for certain things.
CHAPTER 5: THE MANSION ON THE HILL
It was a cold, gray afternoon in Ekunon. Although it was not raining, the sky was overcast over the big city. Thost dismounted from his horse and tied the reins to the support at the entrance of the building. After that, he went inside. It was the building of the departmental delegation of Administrative Services of the Central Bor County. Thost had to submit some documents and pay the taxes for the quarter.
Upon reaching the main hall, he saw that there were quite a few people and only two county officials to assist them. He snorted resigned; he'd have to spend the rest of the afternoon there. He asked who the last person was. A woman who had a live chicken seized by its legs raised her hand. His turn was next.
There were no seats left so he had to remain standing in a corner. It was a room about twenty steps long w
ith three huge windows overlooking the street. Horsemen and pedestrians were passing incessantly in the hustle of the afternoon. Thost stopped to watch the street scene for a while. No sound could be heard through the thick panes.
A very old man rose from his chair in the waiting area, to go sit at the table in front of the first officer. The man who preceded him had finished making his arrangements and was leaving. Thost took the opportunity to sit in the place that the old man had vacated. To his left was a boy no older than eighteen, with red hair and many freckles. He wore pants with suspenders that were clearly too short, and that were pretty worn out from use. To his right was a very serious lady in her fifties, who was fully dressed in black. "A widow", he thought.
After waiting for over half an hour, Thost began to remember how he had gotten there. A few years ago he lived in a palace, had hundreds of servants, ran a county with professionalism and intelligence, and had the appreciation of most of his subjects. As a count, he managed a huge budget and tried to do it reasonably with good planning for the well-being of the territory. A few thousand militia soldiers followed his orders, apart from the Royal Army unit, which was established there. He had a huge amount of land that his vassals tilled and a fishing fleet. Also, he had good friends in all areas: the Army, the other counties and the Central Administration. At least that's what he had believed.
But everything changed radically in an intense, crazy and embarrassing month of April. The accusation had come suddenly taking him by complete surprise. ¡Conspiracy against the Crown! How could they dare to commit such slander? He, who had always defended the Crown and had so often prefixed the Kingdom interests before the ones of his county!
The process had happened abnormally fast. He did not have many options to defend himself. Now, with hindsight, he understood that various de facto powers had had to align to make things happen as they did. The King was traveling, and only had access to him at the end of the process when the committee had already decided. He had hoped to have the support of the counts of Bor, Norvik and Terentias. But only Norvik count defended him openly. The Bor count was involved at that time in a small scandal, and the Terentias count had accumulated too much debt, especially with the Industrial Association. Neither was at his best, or in a position of strength, and did not want to risk it by defending him. As permanent members of the Committee, their voices were very important. It would have been almost impossible for such a drastic decision like that to have gone ahead with three counts against it; even if the other four, and most of the other members, were in favor. But with only the support of one count, and a surprisingly belligerent atmosphere against him, he had no chance.
The evidence presented had been incredible. It was as if someone had been accumulating a dossier and documenting all errors at a detailed level for years. Then, presenting it all together mixed with some very serious lies, and linking it to a somewhat bizarre way, had filed a case against him which looked solid.
But the last straw had been that letter. A love letter to the Queen with his handwriting! Only that it was not for the Queen! He was courting at the time a lady called Aredelind. His wife had died shortly after the birth of his son many years ago and, after a long period of mourning, he had had multiple partners. It was perfectly legitimate for a widower as he to woo a marriageable maiden. Actually, he had been looking for someone who could fill the huge gap that Abremine had left, without success. The fact is that chance determined that the last of his conquests had the same name as the Queen. Then, somehow, his enemies seized the letter and added a royal stamp, as if it had been addressed to the Queen herself.
All the experts authenticated his handwriting. And when he spoke of the maid, her trail had disappeared. No one was able to find her. And even in the hacienda where he visited her a few times, they said he had never stayed there a woman with that description. It had been a nightmare.
As a result of this, he lost his home and his wealth, he was banished from his land and could never return to it, and lost his title. But what hurt him most was losing his name. The Oroden house had directed the Borydos County for twenty generations, and with him, that legacy had disappeared. He and his family had lost the right to use "Oroden" in their documents and thereby the rights to a name; in the kingdom of Bor only the nobility, and a few men, were entitled to have it. He only hoped that his son could forgive him for such grievance.
If it could only be corrected! Clearing and recovering his name someday for himself and his family, was his ultimate ambition, his only ambition. But this goal seemed extremely complicated. He believed, however, that with time, effort and tenacity, it was possible.
The first thing he needed was money, a lot of money. Many of his enemies were still in their positions of privilege. And now he understood that more than one had been able to use the money to buy willpower, twist opinions and conspire. Money could also buy the favor of support to help him in this battle. Secondly, he needed to get his own dossiers with the skeletons in the closet that his enemies might have. This would allow him to neutralize their action when the time came. That is, the same tactics that were used against him. He had no doubt that it would be possible to document the abuses of the bastards, but he needed, again, money and time. The third thing would be to build a review of his case that might overturn the conviction. But he would need to hire good lawyers, collect evidence, find that woman and get her to do an affidavit. Finally, he'd need the opportunity to do a great service to the kingdom of Bor, which the King could not ignore. This way, he could reclaim the review of his case. But he could only get to that point when he was prepared.
For a man in his present situation, there was only one way to get large sums of money: the adventures. It was a very romantic and attractive idea, but the reality is that practically no adventurer was successful enough to get rich. But it was possible and Thost had met a knight who had accomplished it. Besides, he still had a couple of supports that will surely willingly accompany him.
His son Ithelas was investigating ancient writings, seeking clues that might lead them to a lost treasure. He had been attempting to gather contacts that could put him in communication with contractors; people that carried out certain assignments for adventurers for a certain amount of gold. Though they had done some homework, so far they had not gotten any work of real importance. But he would not give up so easily.
While he was deep in thought, three people had been attended. Two men, who were chatting, entered the room at that time and went to the benches to take a seat. One of them approached Thost and with a curt nod indicated him to move to the left, probably because that way the two men would have enough room to sit together.
No one in that room could even imagine that he was ever a count. Thost, who always had been received everywhere as an Excellency, now had to hide his past. It had been a condition to be able to reside in Bor County: no public notoriety and go unnoticed in the city. And even he could consider himself lucky; some in the trial had asked for a sentence of death by hanging, leading the charge to high treason.
The man who had just entered and sat to his right stank considerably. He probably hadn't showered in about a month. Although the red-haired boy on his left didn't smell much better. He stood up and walked to the windows to watch the street again.
The front building was an amphorae factory. A large gate stood in the middle of the facade and had many carts coming in and out constantly. The wagons went out loaded high with ceramics of all types and colors: small and medium vases, dishes, pots and, of course, amphorae. Ceramics was one of the main activities of the city and County, and the goods were exported throughout the Kingdom and even to other countries. McMica was the company that controlled the production of these goods in the city. It was a company that had flourished throughout the entire Kingdom.
The city also had a distinguished guild of goldsmiths who concentrated on the Walk of Gem, in the commercial area of the city. There you could find jewelry of all kinds, as well as precious stones. Kno
wing how to choose the day and time could get you some good bargains. Thost had been there many times, when money allowed him to be a regular customer of the guild. But now those days seemed far away.
He had to wait for nearly two hours until finally it was his turn. At that time three or four people who came after him, ended up being attended before him. Those born in the County had priority in administrative proceedings, and he was born in another county, obviously.
Finally, one of the officials motioned to him.
“What do you want?” he asked without even looking at him.
*******
Thost rode, trotting his horse. He could see the old mansion on top of the hill. It was very close and he slightly accelerated his pace. He was tired and wanted to get home. He could see the smoke coming from the north fireplace. His son Ithelas probably had lit the fire.
He led Estogarr to a medium size shed, which was very close to the mansion, where they could store up to six horses. After introducing the horse into their fold and after giving him some caresses, he served the horse an extra helping of straw. He had behaved beautifully, as usual. He was a good traveling horse. He possessed great strength, was very docile and predictable, and not easily frightened. But he wasn't a warhorse. He could not trot it in speed, mounted in full armor.
After greeting and caressing the other horses, he went into the house. He stopped and looked at the beautiful entrance. Some of the furnishings were of high quality and the interior was generally in good condition. He had been lucky to have been able to keep that house. It had been one of the summer houses of his family for generations; especially for family members who had passion for hunting. In those plains, you could find foxes, bears and wolves, among other prey. The most appreciated were the winter wolves, which had amazing and valuable white fur.