The mayor stared at Stavin nervously, with his eyes darting to the chair at Stavin’s side. Stavin smiled and nodded his head deeply, then sat. Once he was seated, the rest of the councilors sat as well. Barvil and Karvik, as always, were shoulder-to-shoulder behind Stavin, and the rest of the royal guards filled the space between them and the door.
“Gentlemen,” Stavin began, looking around the room, “for the benefit of those of you who haven’t been informed, I am Prince Stavin Zel’Andral of Evandia. There are an arm-full of titles that go with that, but let’s dispense with them for now. Evandia and Andaria have, at the request of the Royal Guards of Kel’Kavin, entered into an agreement to annex the old kingdom of Farindia and bring order once again to these lands.”
One of the councilors began to interrupt, but Stavin raised his hand to forestall any questions. “I hope to cover all of your questions, so please be patient. We took this action because we are tired of our homeland being the haunt and breeding ground of outlaws and bandits. For two hundred and some years, we have kept to ourselves and let Farindia be controlled by the Traders’ Guild and warlords who could weld together a sufficient force to control an area.
“Our right to take this action is the right of blood. We of Kel’Kavin carry the old royal bloodlines. Warleader Karvik Kel’Carin,” he raised his hand to indicate the towering figure at his shoulder, “carries nearly half royal blood. As far as we know, no other person can claim such heritage.”
When Stavin paused, one of the councilors stood and bowed respectfully, then asked, “What of our control of this valley, Prince Stavin? We have seen to the needs of our people without the help or hindrance of a king since the revolt. Are we to be supplanted by Chosen lords who have never set foot here before?”
“No,” Stavin replied, “and I was about to get to that. Take your seat, if you would.” Stavin nodded toward the man’s chair and waited until he was seated again before continuing. “Evandian officials will be entering these lands soon to issue official titles to land and property. Once the issues of the people are seen to, worthy individuals such as your mayor and probably the rest of you on this council will be elevated to Chosen status to once again establish a proper hierarchy in these lands.” The room was silent as the men around him considered that pronouncement. Chosen was a term that wasn’t taken lightly.
The mayor stood and bowed deeply to Stavin before asking, “What of the Guilds, Prince Stavin? Much of the control in Zel’Dorvan is held by the assorted Guild Halls.”
Stavin bowed his head slightly. “As it is just about everywhere, Mayor Kel’Horval. The Evandian Guilds will be taking over, but King Kalin and his ministers are doing all they can to make it as painless as possible. The existing Guilds will be absorbed, not supplanted, in every instance that can be managed, but in the end the Evandian Guilds will be in charge.” Stavin smiled and shrugged. “Before the fall of the Empire of Luxand, they were all part of the same Mother Guilds anyway.”
The mayor sat and another, younger man stood, then bowed. Stavin noted his Master Trader’s vest immediately. “Prince Stavin, what of Trade?” he asked.
Stavin nodded, and a slight smile curved his lips. “Trade will continue as well as it can. Trade with Andaria will remain as it has been, with the addition of the Farindian territory north of the Kahrant River. Trade with Kavadia will be slightly more difficult, but we are negotiating with the Aravad Traders’ Council for a reduction in taxes for favored traders coming into Evandia. It is the trade going to and from the south of Evandia that will benefit. Since you are already in Evandia, there will be no taxes going south.”
“But most of our goods go north into the heartland, and we purchase a lot from there as well,” the Trader said.
“Your Highness,” Captain Zel’Tarlin interrupted. When Stavin and the rest of the councilors looked at him, he continued. “Remember your manners, gentlemen.”
Stavin tilted his head to the side slightly. “Indeed, Captain Zel’Tarlin, though you know I’m not a stickler about it.” He looked at the councilors and let the corner of his mouth lift in a half grin. “Haven’t been a prince all that long. It is, however, something that all of you are going to have to get used to. King Kalin and Princess Marina can be somewhat aggressive when people forget their place.”
The man who had spoken stood again and bowed deeply. “My apologies, Prince Stavin.”
“Accepted and forgiven.” Stavin looked around the room and smiled. “Zel’Dorvan is one of the few heavily populated valleys in this part of Farindia. It’s to be hoped that we can build a larger population once the bandits have been dealt with. There are areas where cities once stood that are now abandoned. It is our hope that those cities can be rebuilt.”
“Will we be allowed to expand, Prince Stavin?” a man at the end asked as he stood and bowed. He was well dressed, but Stavin could see a bit of flour in his dark hair that made Stavin think he was a baker.
“Yes. In fact, you’ll be encouraged to expand.” He smiled when the man looked surprised and abruptly sat.
“Will the king help, Your Highness?” another man asked from the other end of the table. This man had a shifty look to his eyes, and Stavin was instantly suspicious, so he answered cautiously.
“Yes, in a limited fashion. Establishing order in these lands is going to deplete the king’s treasury. Until the additional funds are available, a lot of the expansions are going to be privately financed. That will require negotiating agreements with going concerns in Evandia, but the crown ministers will be monitoring those agreements. We won’t let the Evandian Guilds and Houses take advantage of you. That is a lesson from Ancient Lux that we are not going to repeat.”
The mayor stood and bowed to forestall any more questions. “My friends, Prince Stavin, I propose we adjourn for the day to discuss these developments and come up with an organized list of questions. We could easily spend a moon discussing this and not cover everything. Let’s get Prince Stavin and his people settled, then we can meet again to come up with a list.” The mayor paused to look around the room. “We must remember that there is an army camped outside of town, and we don’t want to keep them too long. We’ve barely enough supplies for our own people without having to feed them as well.” He looked at Stavin and seemed relieved as Stavin nodded his approval.
“Agreed, Mayor Kel’Horval. I can give you today and tomorrow, but we must be moving on soon afterward. There is still a lot of territory to cover before winter.” Stavin stood and the councilmen stood with him. “We’ll rejoin our comrades. When you have reached a decision, let me know.” With that, Stavin bowed his head, then turned to go the Royal Guards moving with him.
“Prince Stavin,” one of the councilors said to draw his attention, “Zel’Dorvan boasts several fine inns. You needn’t sleep in your tent.”
Stavin turned back and smiled, but shook his head. “I prefer to stay close to my men. It saves time if I’m needed.” Then he continued out of the room.
“That was rude, Stave,” Karvik muttered.
“Not really, Kar,” Stavin muttered back. “I got a bad feeling from someone in that room.”
“Bad feeling?” Barvil asked softly.
“I don’t know how else to put it, Barvil. It was like one of them was already plotting against us. Against me. And I don’t know which of them it was.”
“That may be paranoia, Prince Stavin,” Captain Zel’Tarlin said from beside Karvik, “but then again, it may simply be a heightened awareness of your surroundings. You are our leader, and we are causing a major disruption in this region. The Traders’ Guild, at the very least, is going to be very angry with the changes we are bringing.”
“He’s right, Stavin,” Barvil murmured.
“And that’s another good reason to stay out with the army rather than in town at an inn. Besides, I don’t think I could handle a twelve-course feast right now. My armor’s getting tight again.” There were some sniggers at that admission, but no other objections as they
mounted their horses and rode out of town.
Chapter 44
THE ZEL’DORVAN CITY COUNCIL MET AGAIN the next morning. “Gentlemen, I call this session to order,” Mayor Kel’Horval said as he looked around the room. His friends quieted at last and he smiled slightly as he looked at their familiar faces. They looked like they hadn’t slept a wink, which was fine since he hadn’t slept either.
“I find myself in an awkward position,” he continued, clasping his hands on the table. “I would personally prefer to remain an independent city and not bow to King Kalin and Prince Stavin, but he made a good point yesterday: There isn’t much we can do to resist the annexation. If we called up the full draft, we could field five thousand men. He has six thousand soldiers at his back. All we would accomplish is to get our men slaughtered. Evandia would still take Zel’Dorvan.”
“But what option does that leave us, Esten?”
“We bow gracefully to the inevitable,” another councilor said, “and plan our lives accordingly. I’d rather bow and scrape to some Evandian than to an Andarian, anyway. Arrogant bastards. But you heard the same thing I did yesterday. They intend to elevate us to Chosen status and leave us in charge.”
“And our holdings intact,” another councilor said. “There is something to be said for being allowed to keep what is ours.”
The mayor held his hand up for silence. “I call for a vote. Do we accept the annexation fully, or do we lie and plan our revolt?”
The man to the mayor’s right spoke next. “I prefer peace and prosperity. If it means paying taxes to the Evandian crown rather than some bandit king in the hills, so be it. At least the Evandian crown is more likely to keep their word. I vote to accept.”
The next man simply nodded, as did the next two, but the fourth man spoke. He was the Master Trader. “This man, this Prince Stavin, is known to the Traders’ Guild. He founded a House in Evandia under the name Kel’Aniston, and defied their officials rather spectacularly. He’s also a member of the Aravad Traders’ Council.” He let that pronouncement sit for a moment. “He may be young, but he’s shown himself to be as canny as any Trader in Farindia. It would be a mistake to underestimate him. However, I see no recourse. At least he’s leaving us to run our own affairs instead of imposing lords on us. I vote, reluctantly, to accept.”
One by one, the members of the council voted. Only five voted to resist the annexation, and they were the five eldest councilors. By a vote of ten to five, the motion carried.
“Very well,” the mayor said as he looked around, “let’s discuss what we want to ask Prince Stavin.” The room erupted into a babble of voices, until he had to slap the table several times to restore order. “That’s enough of that,” he snapped. “One at a time.”
The man at the mayor’s right went first. “Who will determine the ownership of land?”
The next man asked, “Will we have a detachment of soldiers to guard the city?”
Down the line they asked, “Will the crown take over tending the roads?”
“Will water rights be retained?”
“Will my mill still be mine?”
On and on the councilors asked the same basic question: “Will I be able to keep what I’ve taken?” After half the day had passed, the mayor called the room to order once again. “I have our list of questions for Prince Stavin. I propose that I go alone to ask him. The Guardsmen at his back seemed somewhat distrustful. The fact that I am from an old Guard family seemed to make a difference yesterday, and they claim I’m distantly related to Prince Stavin’s wife. That may help.”
There were whispered discussions all around, and finally the council agreed to send the mayor alone. That way if the prince got mad, only the mayor would suffer.
Mayor Kel’Horval rode out to the army camp alone and was passed to the center, where the Royal Guards took his horse and searched him before allowing him to go near Prince Stavin. Stavin and the rest of his senior staff were discussing their next destination when the mayor arrived.
“Prince Stavin, as agreed, I have a list of question from my colleagues.”
Stavin silently held out his hand, and the mayor handed over the parchment. Stavin read the list, chuckling occasionally, then began writing answers. “For the most part, Mayor Kel’Horval,” he said without looking up, “the answer is yes. However, Do I have the right to annex my neighbor’s fields as a Chosen lord, gets a resounding no. Nor does anyone have the right to collect taxes except the crown. You and your council will be the crown’s tax collectors, and part of that money will remain here for road, bridge, and aqueduct maintenance, but anyone caught feathering their own nest with tax money will be swiftly and severely punished.”
The mayor nodded. “That is about what I expected you to say, Prince Stavin. Some of my colleagues have some odd ideas about what it means to be Chosen.”
“A lot of people do,” Barvil said from the side.
Stavin finished writing his answers on the parchment, then signed his name, and all of his titles. When the mayor saw what he’d written, he had to smile. “An arm full of titles indeed, Prince Stavin. I shall present this to my colleagues in the morning. Will you be moving on then?”
Stavin nodded, turning the gesture into an approximation of a bow. “Yes. It’s too late to start today, so we’ll be leaving after the morning meal. Watch for Magistrates to start arriving in a moon or so. They will be issuing the deeds and titles. Until then, I leave you and your council to continue the fine job you’ve done.”
The mayor bowed deeply as a smile crossed his face, then two guardsmen led him away. Stavin’s smiled faded immediately. “It’s about what I expected. They are all grasping for every scrap they can manage.”
“They have been the king, council, magistrates, and sheriffs since the revolt, Your Highness,” Gavlin pointed out. “Their word has been law in Zel’Dorvan and this valley for two hundred and some odd years. It would be a bit much to expect them to simply say, Sure, you go ahead and take over and we’ll happily follow you. Every man on that council is a powerful man, and they aren’t going to like giving up that power. If our force was less overwhelming, they might have fought us.”
Stavin stared at nothing as he answered, “And we would have slaughtered more of our own people.”
The army moved on in the morning, marching through the center of town because that’s where the road led. They weren’t cheered by the people, but there was little overt hostility either. Mostly the shutters were just closed and barred, and only occasional chamber pots were emptied as the soldiers marched by.
The Pacification Force left Zel’Dorvan and its valley behind at last. The road that would lead them into Farindia and to the old Skykon Trade Town was just two day’s march ahead of them.
When they were well clear of the city, Stavin looked at Karvik and grinned. “We shouldn’t have to fight anymore. Trade Town is the last major population center between here and the old border. It’ll be good to get home to Shari and the kids.”
Chapter 45
THE CROSSROADS TO SKYKON WAS MARKED by an old Imperial Army fort, and ten thousand Andarian Army troops. Scouts from the Fifth Cavalry raced their horses back to the main force to report. “Sir,” a sergeant said as he dismounted, “there’s a full Andarian army waiting for us. They hold the crossroads.”
Gavlin received the news calmly. “All commands begin deployment. If they want a battle, I’ll give them one.”
“Gav, let me talk to them first,” Stavin said, drawing the colonel’s gaze. “They may just want Zel’Jellan and his men.”
“That’s a risk we can’t afford to take, Prince Stavin.” Gavlin was visibly tense, leaning forward in his saddle and his eyes had narrowed till he was almost squinting.
“It’s a risk we can’t afford not to take, Gav,” Stavin replied. “I won’t throw away hundreds of lives just to keep that ass. Let King Jallat deal with him if he wants to.”
Gavlin ground his teeth in frustration, but finally nodded. “As y
ou wish, Prince Stavin, but for the love of the Gods Above, and the life of every man around you, keep Karvik and that sword close at hand.”
Stavin nodded. “I will.” But I hope it doesn’t get that far. A span later he and Karvik, backed by Barvil and nine senior Warleaders, rode forward. They stopped in a clear spot five dragons from the Andarians. It wasn’t long before a delegation rode out to meet them.
“Prince Stavin,” a young man in brightly shining armor with the Andarian Royal Signet in the center of his breast-plate said as they approached, “I am Prince Jeffan.”
Stavin was surprised by the simple, straightforward introduction. But it made sense, though. Only a member of the Royal Family could bear the Signet. “I am pleased to meet you, Prince Jeffan. If you don’t mind my asking, why have you brought an army into Evandian territory? That hasn’t ended well for you in the past.”
There was a stir among the men around the prince, but he held his hand up to quiet them. “No, it hasn’t, but my father and I thought it was necessary to impress upon you the urgent nature of this encounter. You have some of our people prisoner. We want them back.”
“If you are referring to Lord General Zel’Jellan, you can have him. I had intended to take him to Twin Bridges for trial, but I’m growing tired of his bitching. I didn’t know any grown man could whine that much.”
Farindian Summer (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 4) Page 26