“I'm not doing anything; I could come to the meeting?”
“Why not? It’s about time you learnt to run a country.”
“Because I don’t have a dozen other things to do.” Lizzy smiled.
“Lizzy, are you coming to the Council meeting?” Her Uncle Michael stuck his head round the door.
Lizzy looked up from her notes; Daily Ford had a new rival, the Albon Informer, and were struggling with sales.
“Oh, yes, of course, I just need to put these away.” She put her pen down and closed the notebook, sliding it into a draw and locking the draw.
“What are you up to?”
“Nothing much, it's just a few ideas.”
“That is a frightening thought.”
“Not really. Come on, we have to go to the Council meeting.”
“One thing, the Curates are joining us today.”
“Why?”
“The High Curate is sick.”
“Ahh.”
“Yes; I have reasonable suspicion he's been poisoned.”
“Right. Who else knows this?”
“John, so far, and the High Curate himself.”
“Hmm. Can I see the evidence?”
“Why?”
“Just an idea I had.”
“You scare me when you say things like that.”
“Well, as long as I'm scaring other people too, what’s the problem? Let’s go to the meeting.”
Lizzy had only ever been in the Council Chamber after a meeting, usually to remind her father that beds were for sleeping in, so it was a refreshing change to see the echoing room swarming with life. The King’s Council, sat in their accustomed places around the table, while the visiting Curates Council, and, unusually, a delegation from the Commons Moot, took seats around the edge of the room. The susurration of hundreds of important papers clutched in the sweaty hands of council member and delegates filled the air.
“Take a seat next to John, I'll be back in a moment.” Duke Michael whispered under the noise.
Lizzy nodded and walked across to the throne at the head of the table. Lord Summerton stood beside her father talking urgently in his ear. King John noticed her and motioned the Lord Commander of the Watch, and Lord Marshal of the Kingdom, back.
“Explain it to my daughter, Summerton, she'll handle it.”
“Yes, of course, your majesty.”
“Afternoon, my lord, do you mind if I take that seat?” Lizzy smiled and insinuated herself between the Commander and her Father to sit down.
“Now, what are you bending Father's ear about?”
“We have a slight pirate problem.”
“Again? I thought Fleet cleared them out last winter?”
“We did,” The First Lord of the Fleet, Lord Jonesey, interrupted, “But they've come back.”
“Where are they now?”
“In the Rocks.”
Lizzy nodded, the Rocks were a group of tiny islands, little more than sea stacks, a hundred miles to the north of Albon. They were used as a staging post for ships heading to points beyond Umar, but only in extreme bad weather. The Rocks formed a ring, joined at the base. There was one narrow channel in. In poor weather, it was some shelter, when some was marginally better than none.
“It's a hundred miles from our north coast, how are they hurting us?”
“They're right on the shipping lines. We've lost twenty merchantmen this year.”
“The year is almost over.”
“Two a month, Your Highness, we can't afford to lose ships at that rate, or the trade with the Camari and their allies.”
“What do we trade with the Camari for?”
A Moot member, who Lizzy vaguely recognised had heard the conversation in passing, and tentatively offered, “Furs, and whale oil.”
“So, it can't be that big a business.”
The man blushed, “Well, Your Highness, we, that is the oil merchants, buy the oil from the Camari and sell it to the Belenosi. It's rather profitable, and our control of the trade routes between the two continents help get favourable agreements from both.”
“I see, Merchant?”
“Uil, Your Highness. I have a half share in the King's Ford Oil Company, five of our ships have been taken by the pirates.”
“And that's why you and the rest of the delegates are here today?”
“No ma'am, we're here because we don't want the Queen back, but we can't afford war with Sumoast either.”
“Thank you Master Uil, allow me to think on your problem.” Lizzy dismissed the man and sat back to think, though she already had an idea.
“That grin is going to take us to war.”
“Not unnecessarily, Lord Summerton.”
“But you have an idea?”
“One may be forming, that will solve all of our problems. When is bitch face due to return?”
“In the spring?” Lord Summerton shrugged; there was no definite timetable, everyone was guessing.
“How long will it take to build enough ships to clear out the Rocks?”
“I don't know, next summer at the earliest, probably longer, the shipyards are busy replacing the lost merchantmen.” Jonesey nodded.
“Could we do it now with the ships we have?”
“No, the fleet are all at sea or out of the water being overhauled.”
“So, we need more ships, and presumably more men to sail them?”
“We've got the men; we could pull in the fishing fleets and merchantmen for a short period if we need more.”
“Thank you gentlemen; I presume you'll be bringing the matter up to the Council?”
“Of course. I can't afford to send any more men north to stop the smugglers, nor can Fleets put any more ships to sea to deal with them. We're not desperate yet but we will be if many more of our ships are taken.”
“I understand, Lord Commander. I think you should both bring the problem up, and I shall present a small idea.”
“This could get nasty.”
“It might, but we need to solve these problems, and I think I have a way to do it.”
The meeting was called rapidly to order once Duke Michael returned from wherever he had been, and took a seat on the other side of King John.
The Lord Chamberlain stood to welcome the Counsellors and their visitors.
“Gentlemen if you would take your places, the Council of John, seventh of that name, King of Albon is now in session.”
He sat back down as King John stood.
“My Lords of the Council, learned Curates, and members of the Commons Moot, we are here today because our island faces a difficult choice. As you know my wife will return from her exile after the winter. She is neither popular nor welcomed by our people. We are a moderate nation, of a secular nature; my wife belongs, as we are all aware to the Fundamentalist branch of the One Light. Honoured and learned High Curate, I ask for your comments at this moment. What is the state of the faith?”
The High Curate, haggard, pale leaning on two younger men and a cane tried to stand.
“Please, learned High Curate,” Lizzy gestured, “Return to your seat, we will think it no insult.”
“Thank you Your Highness, with His Majesty's permission I will?”
The king nodded.
“My thanks. I have recently taken a survey of our clergy. We have a majority of seventy-three percent who identify as moderate, um, now where's that paper gone, Josh? Oh, yes, thirteen percent who describe themselves as progressive, and, ah, yes, here we are, fourteen percent who describe themselves as fundamentalist or conservative.”
“So, most of you are reasonably decent people?” Fleet laughed.
“Yes, of course. Even my conservative colleagues may be described as reasonable people, with a little less flexibility in their approach to Unbelievers. The Queen is a convert, and was under the influence of Fundamentalist clergy before exile. I understand from our records that a young curate called Lucal attends her in Tarjan now. We have no record of his beliefs however
.”
“You're being very generous, High Curate, considering someone has poisoned you, and the I.O. has traced it back to my father's wife.”
“Yes, well, the One will judge her actions and mine, Your Highness. I do not have the energy to hate, merely to set the Faith in order before I am called to Him Who Made Us.”
“I wouldn't have so much generosity, High Curate,” Lord Summerton grimaced, “I'd treat her as the criminal she is.”
“Summerton do try to remember you're talking about our queen.”
“Doesn't stop her from being a criminal, does it? It's not like I don't have enough on, dealing with smugglers and pirates, as well as our usual criminal classes.”
“Smugglers, Lord Commander? What about our ships?” The Elder of the Moot, Master Johnson, stood from his place. “What are we going to do about that? It's all very well arguing over the queen and the clergy, but real people are suffering because of the pirates.”
“Elder Johnson,” The Lord Chamberlain stepped forward, “We will proceed in the order of our agenda. The pirates will be dealt with next.”
The old man grumbled and took his seat again.
“What about our voice?” A younger man, in rich furs stood, a few seats down from the Elder.
“Your voice?”
“Yes, the Moot have met and we have decided we don't want her back here. She caused difficulties for the Guilds ten years ago when she had them shut down, we've only just got ourselves back up and running again. How do we know she won't try to control the merchants again?”
“Sit down Rod, we're not here to discuss whether the queen returns from exile, we're here to make our case for help with the pirates.” Elder Johnson lifted his cane to prod at the young man.
“Gentlemen, please, there's no need for violence. May I summarise the collective opinion so far?”
There was a general murmur of consent, as Lizzy stood, she gestured to the King's Council members, “My Lords, I believe that you are not in favour of ending the queen's exile, is that correct.”
The Lords nodded.
She turned to look at the Curates, “Learned Curates, you are in favour of forgiving the queen's previous criminal behaviour but are wary of her influence on the clergy?”
The High Curate looked at his Council members and nodded in agreement.
“And you, honoured delegates of the Commons Moot, you do not wish to see her return because she damaged your Guilds?”
“That's right.”
“Thank you. We have a problem then. The queen is unwelcome in Albon, except among a small minority of Fundamentalists and Conservatives. However, we cannot deny her return, because her uncle, the High Lord of Sumoast will declare war. We cannot afford a war; is it not the case, Fleet, that we are short of ships now?”
“Yes, the entire fleet needs overhauling and refitting.”
“And, Lord Marshal, what is the state of the Regiments?” Lizzy addressed Sommerton.
“Honestly Your Highness, they need overhauling too. We're so used to fighting at sea I don't think they'd be able to muster on land at all.”
“So our fleet and our regiments are not prepared for war. The purpose of this discussion should be to determine what action we should take.”
“We've been over every possible solution, there is nothing that can prevent the queen returning.”
“Uncle, you're being pessimistic. We'll think of something.”
“You already have.”
“Elder Johnson, please keep your delegates in order.”
“It's fine Lord Chamberlain. Master Reg?” The man bowed, “What makes you think that?”
“You were speaking to Master Uil, Lord Fleet and Lord Watch before the meeting started.”
“Indeed I was. And indeed, I do.”
“So, daughter, tell us.”
“We can't stop her returning without starting a war, but we can delay her return.”
“I don't see where you're going with this Lizzy.”
“Well father, it would be terribly irresponsible of us to expect the queen to travel in pirate infested water, wouldn't it?”
“Of course, I couldn't possibly risk her life.”
“Until we can clear the pirates out of the Rocks we can't possibly send a ship for her.”
“They'll realise it's a delaying tactic.”
“But they won't be able to declare war.”
“And we do need to clear the Rocks. We rely on the oil and fur trade.” Elder Johnson added.
“We don't have enough ships to clear the Rocks.” Fleet insisted.
“Let’s build some.”
“The ship yards are busy replacing the ones we've lost to the pirates.” A Moot delegate pointed out.
“So they are. I suppose Fleet will just have to wait for his ships until after the merchantmen are complete.”
“But that could take months.”
Lizzy smiled.
“You conniving wench, Lizzy Fitzroy.” Lord Summerton laughed. He finally got it! “We send a message to the Queen to tell her we'll send our best ship as soon as it's safe to do so. Sorry, sea lanes are pirate infested, we need to clear them first.”
“Then we build more ships to clear the Rocks, and oh look we have a brand new fleet. How fortuitous.”
“And what are the regiments doing?”
“Training? Organising? If any of the others object, we've got a pirate and smuggler infestation to deal with.”
The First Lord of the Chancery laughed, “It may work, but how do we pay for it?”
“We have funds, do we not?”
“Some, but a new fleet and regiments will cost money.”
“Gentlemen of the Moot, Curates, we may need to increase taxes, on land and goods, if we're to improve our fleet and regiments enough to destroy the pirates and keep the routes with the Camari and Belenosi open.” King John spoke, finally, after leaving everything to his daughter and ministers.
The merchants in the Moot delegation were perturbed by royal pronouncement. Jowls wobbled, there was scowling. Someone cried out, “Now hang on a minute, why should we pay for it?”
“Do you want these problems solving or not?” Duke Michael growled, “Either we raise the funds for a new fleet and regiments, or the pirates continue to destroy your ships and damage our trading arrangements.”
“His Grace is quite right,” the High Curate spoke for his Council, “There is no other choice. We have to find the money somewhere, and I've no doubt a tax on all land and income will be implemented.”
The King's Council looked uneasily at one other.
“Of course. Everyone must contribute.” King John declared.
And so began the campaign.
Chapter 19
Spring A.E. 1335
Lizzy banged her head on her desk.
“Elizabeth, what are you doing?” Sarah asked, after five years she was weary of Lizzy's
displays.
“Sorry, I fell asleep.”
“Again? How late were you up last night?”
“Too late.”
“It was after midnight when I left, how long did Charley stay for?”
“Another three or four hours.”
Sarah raised her eyebrow. Lizzy blushed.
“We had to discuss the itinerary for the cruise, then we got distracted. Discussing history.”
“You're not going on that cruise until next year, why worry about the itinerary now?”
“We wanted to get the basic outline sorted.”
“Uhuh, I believe you, thousands wouldn't.”
“What precisely are you implying?”
“You and Charley are very close.”
“We've been friends for years. Now Beth and Tess are married and hiding at their estates with husbands and babies, I don't get to see many of my friends. Gos is in Belenos playing diplomat. Phil and Henry are busy with their regiments; it's nice just to spend some time with an old friend who doesn't expect me to be a princess all the damn time.�
��
“You need new friends.”
“Everyone at court either avoids me like the plague because they think it'll help them when the Queen returns or they fawn all over me.”
“It happens dear, it happens. Come on, leave your writing for a while and have a nap.”
“I'm not a child Sarah.”
“No, but sometimes you act like one. And tonight, we have another meeting with Fleets and Marshal. You can't afford to be distracted.”
“I suppose so. Wake me up in time for supper, will you?” Lizzy scraped her chair back, making Sarah wince at the sound, and the damage to the wood of the floor. She left the room to find her rather comfortable bed. Someone had made it for her so she threw herself on top of the covers and was snoring in minutes.
Sarah tidied Lizzy's desk, trying to organise the jumble of notes she would need for the meeting that evening. Sarah sat back down on the sofa and started writing her own reports for the Duke. Once finished, she started on the translations he had sent her to do. There were reports from their Calmani office mostly. She was the most fluent in the language that the Investigations Office had. It was getting dark when she finished and the sunset bell was ringing in the city. Rubbing her eyes and folding her papers back into their case, she stood, creaked, stretched and went to wake a princess for dinner.
“Well, gentlemen?”
Lizzy had assembled the committee in her rooms. Sarah stood by making notes while Jonsey and the Secretary of the Fleet took one sofa, and Sommerton and his Secretary of Regiments took the other. Papers were spread around them.
“We're starting the construction of the second dozen soon.” Fleet took a sip of his wine.
“How soon?”
Fleet looked at his Secretary who handed him a sheet of paper, “Midsummer.”
Lizzy breathed a sigh of relief. They'd spent the winter hurrying the merchantmen through the shipyards and by spring had got the first dozen keels laid for the new fleet. The ship builders had gone on strike for more pay because they were being forced to work longer hours. Once that was agreed the work had restarted but was three weeks behind schedule.
“And the regiments?”
“We've started to overhaul the system. A lot of the lords don't like it.”
Hidden Fire (The FIRE series Book 1) Page 10