So... this is Paljor, Maelgyn mused, feeling somewhat intimidated. This man was obviously stronger, both in physical and magical ability, than Maelgyn felt he could ever be. He silently prayed that this situation could be resolved without a battle.
Another man stood to the Throne’s right, holding a gavel in front of a sturdy podium. He was the first to speak, as he hammered a strike plate at the podium for attention. “Bow before His Majesty, the Sword King Paljor of New Svieda,” he called.
Uwelain did so, as did the Council Seats, but none of the other visitors made the move. Maelgyn and Euleilla gave the same simple nod of deference they would to a fellow Sword Prince. Elves, Dwarves, and Nekoji all had their own forms of respect, but none of these involved bowing. Ruznak just snorted, never having respected the line from which Paljor sprang to begin with.
“Come, come,” Paljor called, deranged laughter unhidden in his voice. “You are visitors to my Court. Bow, friends... or perhaps you aren’t friends after all!”
Maelgyn glared at the so-called Sword King, and shook his head. “Your highness, I do not recognize your crown. I offer you the respect due a Sword Prince, no more.” He paused. “I am not here to speak with you, anyway, but rather I wish to discuss our wars with your Council.”
Paljor laughed even louder. “Oh, go ahead. Speak with the Council, if you desire. This could be amusing.”
That wasn’t encouraging, but Maelgyn forged ahead, anyway. “Gentlemen,” he said, addressing the Council. Most of the eleven Seats looked uncomfortable, but at least they seemed to be listening with an open mind. He had no idea how Paljor was behaving, however – he could place where the “Sword King” was, being able to sense him with magic, but Maelgyn’s back was to him and so his face was hidden. “I have come to appeal for an end to our civil war. I ask you to return your allegiance where it belongs – to Svieda – and to help us in an hour of great need.”
Paljor snorted. “And just why would we agree to this?”
Maelgyn paused, considering his answer carefully. He needed to bait Paljor into allowing a fair vote from the Council, at the very least... and there was one thing he could offer as that bait. Something which, theoretically, was true... although Paljor, thanks to the edict of the Golden Dragons, would never have a chance to benefit from it.
“An event has occurred that has happened only once before in Sviedan history. The Sword King of Svieda has been assassinated. While catastrophic for Svieda, the unique circumstances make this an ideal time for Borden Isle to consider rejoining us,” Maelgyn replied.
“I think some of you know the Law of the Swords as well as I. If the Sword of Borden Isle rejoins Svieda and reconquers its Castle, the Law of the Swords makes it possible for him to be crowned Sword King of all Svieda.”
There was a long pause. Not even his allies had expected him to mention that, but Maelgyn needed a carrot to offer... and the opportunity to rule all of Svieda was a pretty large carrot.
Still, while even Paljor seemed to be considering the offer at that news, there were objections. “Who cares about the rest of Svieda?” one of the Seats snapped. “We have never cared to conquer it, only to be left alone. We didn’t leave Svieda because our Sword lacked for opportunity; we left because of how the rest of Svieda treated Ivari and Laimoth! You turned your back on them, and because of that, we turn our backs on you!”
Ruznak stepped up at that. “That was a long time ago, and unless I miss my guess, none of you were even alive back then. I was, however... and I was a Borden Islander.” That elicited glares by many on the Council, both from the Seats and their staff. Those who had chosen to support Svieda in the rebellion had always been looked down upon by the other Borden Islanders. “And you know what? I agree with you. Sword Princess Ivari and Lord Laimoth were treated rottenly by Svieda. I did not think we were right in rebelling against Svieda, but I always felt the cause of the rebellion was just.”
The Seat who had spoken before looked both angry and confused, but decided to try and reason with the man. “Then why do you think we will change our minds, traitor? If you agree with us, then why would you even want us to?”
Ruznak straightened as much as his old bones would allow him. “For one, Svieda has changed, and I will speak to that in time. More importantly, I think you should learn what we now know – that Svieda’s hatred of Sword Princess Ivari and Laimoth was incited by those who are at war with Svieda right now, seeking to manipulate the conflict to their own ends.”
Maelgyn sensed Paljor stiffening behind them. So, Maelgyn thought, He knows something.
“And you expect us to believe that?” the Seat snorted. “Or to believe that Svieda has changed? Will the lineage of our rulers suddenly be treated with the respect due them? Has it suddenly become acceptable for a commoner to marry a Sword? Who was the last commoner to marry a Sviedan royal, anyway?”
Euleilla coughed politely. “Me.”
The Seat looked abashed. “Um, well—”
Maelgyn was about to say something, but Euleilla touched his arm lightly. “This is my time to speak, husband.”
Maelgyn nodded, understanding. “Go ahead.”
Stepping forward, she addressed the council.
“Ivari and Laimoth were treated poorly, we all acknowledge, but their time is past. They were not the last pairing of nobility and commoner. I am of common birth, yet I also am the wife of Sword Prince Maelgyn.” She took his hand, and held it aloft. “We stand before you as living proof that Svieda has changed.”
“I won’t say all of the old prejudices are gone,” Maelgyn admitted. “We had some difficulty being accepted... but not as much as I feared, and most of it brought on by foreign influences. Svieda treats us more like Agaeb and Amberry than it did Ivari and Laimoth. We have learned since their time – and one of the things we have learned is that the prejudice against Ivari and Laimoth was a careful and deliberate manipulation of our politics by our enemies. The agents of Sho’Curlas sowed the seeds of discord, played to fears, and ultimately incited riots among the populace.”
“This we can prove,” Ruznak said. “We have the testimony of this Elf, and this Dwarf has the evidence to confirm it.”
“And more, besides,” Uwelain finally spoke up. “When I was contacted by the Elf, Wangdu, about this matter, I felt as you all did – that there was no way I would ever believe Svieda was innocent in the matter. Svieda has much to answer for in allowing itself to be led astray by propaganda and in making itself vulnerable to rebellion not just once, but many times. However, when I heard their testimony and saw the physical evidence he and El’Athras presented, I knew that a hidden power behind the throne of Sho’Curlas was the real enemy.”
“And we are more than willing to show that same evidence to you, we are,” Wangdu declared. “If you require more proof than just the words of one of your own Barons, you do.”
Several of the Seats looked rather curious until Paljor spoke. “You can show all the ‘evidence’ you want,” he said. “But it will change nothing. These islands will never again be a part of Svieda! We have been running this land on our own for eighty years, now, and my children and I will continue to do so until the end of time!”
Maelgyn cocked his head. “I believe, if we were to check the private family records of the line of Sword Prince Elaneth, who started the rebellion in the first place, we would find that he was also part of the conspiracy against Svieda in the first place. And that the decision to rebel had little to do with ‘Ivari and Laimoth,’ as he claimed, but rather the bribe paid to his side of the family line by Sho’Curlas, or more specifically the Mad Elf Hrabak who silently rules that Alliance.” He was completely guessing, but he felt it very likely that he was right. Paljor’s reactions were telling him that he was on the right track, even if the details weren’t entirely correct.
Paljor certainly wasn’t pleased at the suggestion, at any rate. “Enough! Barons, vote against this proposal now, so that we can end this charade… and so that I c
an destroy these cowards for their lies!”
The Council looked rather uncomfortable at that declaration. Even the Seat who had objected to the proposal initially found himself saying, “They entered under flag of truce. We can’t—”
“I am the Sword King here!” Paljor screamed. The flow of magic could be felt even by the untrained as he slammed the offending Seat back down into his chair. “My words are law! Which means you have no choice in how you vote. I order you to vote against these liars’ proposal, so that I may kill them at my leisure!”
Well, Maelgyn thought to himself, taking a deep breath. I guess I’ve got no choice now, do I? I’ve got to take this step even before the vote. I was hoping to get the Borden Isle Council to agree first, but I suppose it might work out better this way.
“It seems to me,” he said aloud, turning to face Paljor, “That you are violating your own laws, ‘Your Majesty.’ And even a Sword King is not above his own laws.”
“And what do you know of our laws?” Paljor snapped.
Maelgyn cocked his head. “Do you take me for a fool? Do you really think I would have come here, and made a proposal like this, knowing nothing of the laws that would govern the Borden Isles? Come, now – you have barely changed the common laws from the time before the rebellion, much less the laws of Governance. I know that you are not allowed to force your Council to vote one way or another. Let them vote without interference, or their vote becomes meaningless... in which case I will have the right to challenge their ruling as being made under duress.”
“Which would lead to a duel between us,” Paljor laughed. “I am not worried in the least by any threat a simple child such as yourself might present.”
Maelgyn raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps not. But I stand ready to fight you if necessary. You would be well advised to allow these Barons to vote their conscience instead of directing how they vote. In all likelihood, they will vote against us, and it won’t be a concern for you.”
Paljor’s eyes narrowed. “And if they do vote on your behalf?”
“Well,” Maelgyn said slowly. “As the reigning Duke of the Borden Isles, you would be obligated to follow their ruling under both Sviedan law and your own. One minor change in your laws grants you a ‘trial by combat’ if you desperately want a law overturned. If the vote was unanimous, you could challenge me, as the law’s sponsor, to a duel in an effort to veto it, but as long as the vote is not unanimous you could veto it regardless.”
Paljor cocked his head slightly. “And in that unlikely event, what happens?”
“Then we are still at war. Or you may allow the vote to stand, and remain a Sword as the Sword Prince and Duke of the Borden Isles,” Maelgyn replied, then smiled slowly. “I would even be willing to pardon you and your family line for its treachery, myself, regardless of what your family papers show in regards to any deals with Sho’Curlas, provided you swear to remain faithful to Svieda for the remainder of your days. But I am afraid you would nevertheless be subject to justice, if not under Sviedan laws... for you violated the treaty with the Golden Dragons when you murdered the one from which you made that armor. The law will still require me to deliver you for trial by their Elders.”
“Who of course, will sentence me to death,” Paljor snorted. “I’m sorry, but I don’t exactly see the advantage for me to allowing the vote to stand, in that case.”
“Well,” Maelgyn considered. “Perhaps there is none to you. But your followers might think different.” He paused – the fight was now inevitable, but he could still engage in a little diplomacy for the benefit of the Seats. “If the Borden Isles legally votes to maintain independence after this news, I, as a Sword Prince in a time without a reigning Sword King, will use my authority to formally recognize the Borden Isles’ independence and end our war. But I will still be obligated, by treaty with the Golden Dragons, to either bring you before them for trial or kill you myself.”
Paljor cocked his head. “It sounds as if there is no way for me to avoid a fight, doesn’t it?”
“You could always surrender,” Ruznak suggested. “The Golden Dragons won’t necessarily kill you if you can justify your actions.”
“My only ‘justifications’ are those I require as the Sword King,” Paljor snarled. “The Dragons intrude upon my lands, and as such they forfeit their lives to me to do with as I please... and I desired a set of dragonhide armor, which requires a dead Dragon to make. If they cannot accept that, then I shall destroy them, as well.”
“The Council has voted,” the Sergeant at Arms called from the podium on Paljor’s right. “By a unanimous vote, Baron Uwelain’s proposal that Paljor be removed from the office of Sword King – pending the examination of Maelgyn’s evidence – is passed.”
Paljor’s eyes widened. “What is this? When was this bill proposed? And when was the vote taken?”
“Moments ago for both questions, your majesty,” Uwelain explained. He had quietly taken his chair while Maelgyn and Paljor talked, and evidently had been working on a solution of his own. “Your abuse of power in this situation was enough to convince even the most reluctant of the Seats that Maelgyn deserves a fair hearing, at the least. We discussed the matter and voted silently, as the law allows. It was your own right hand man, the Sergeant-at-Arms, who counted the votes for us... and he says it was unanimous.”
“Then I will simply challenge you to a duel, Uwelain.” Paljor shrugged. “For the right to veto. You cannot stand against me. Or will you, as the bill’s sponsor, decline said duel and allow my veto to stand?”
Maelgyn swiftly made his way to within earshot of Uwelain as the Baron paled. Everyone knew that Paljor could easily crush any member of the Seats in a duel, and as the bill’s sponsor his only hope to survive was to win the duel or withdraw his bill.
“Accept the challenge,” Maelgyn said to him. “But make me your champion. He’s right that you cannot fight him, but as a mage I might stand a chance. And if I fail... well, we’re both dead anyway, from what Paljor has been saying.”
Uwelain was looking even more nervous at those words, but he nodded nonetheless. “I, Baron Uwelain, accept the challenge,” he called, causing all of the Seats to look at him in shock. Not a single one of them expected him to agree, even those that heard Maelgyn’s plea. The chance of anyone beating Paljor in a duel was so unlikely that it was considered suicide to enter into one with him. “And I name as my champion Maelgyn, Duke of Sopan and Sword Prince of Svieda.”
Paljor nodded slowly. “Very well. Sword Prince Maelgyn. Prepare yourself – the duel will begin in ten minutes, and it will happen here – on the floor of the Council Chambers of New Svieda. Here I shall spill the blood of my cousins... and finally teach them never to cross the waters again.”
Chapter 30
Uwelain stepped before the Sergeant-at-Arms, negotiating the terms of the duel while acting as his own champion’s second. “We believe that Royal treasures such as the Swords should not be used in this duel. They are of too much value to risk in a battle of this nature.”
Acting as Paljor’s second, the Sergeant-at-Arms nodded. “We shall agree to that – we would have proposed something similar. However, we desire Maelgyn’s Sword to be offered up as a trophy. Paljor must give up his Sword should he lose; it is only fair that he has the right to gain another when he wins.”
That surprised Uwelain, and he looked over at Maelgyn for instructions. The Sword Prince hesitated briefly before saying, “As long as it is understood that only the weapon itself is offered as trophy. Sopan will remain a province of Svieda, regardless of the outcome.”
“As expected,” Paljor’s second agreed. “Do you have any other terms for this duel?”
“Regardless of who wins,” Maelgyn said, not allowing Uwelain to answer for him. “All of those who entered with me under flag of truce will be allowed to depart, unharmed.”
“No!” Paljor snapped. “There are two traitors to New Svieda in your party, and both must die.”
Both secon
ds looked momentarily nonplussed at that exchange, before Uwelain sighed and reluctantly conceded the point. “Withdrawn,” he said. “But I propose, as a substitution, that the Elf, Dwarf, and Nekoji be allowed to leave. Euleilla has declared she will stay with her husband even after his death, and both I and Ruznak accepted our fates before we volunteered for this. The others, however, came in under flag of truce, and with the expectation that it would be honored.”
“That, I think, we can agree with,” the Sergeant-at-Arms said uncertainly, glancing at Paljor for confirmation. At the man’s impatient nod, he continued, “And now I believe our negotiations are at an end. You will have two minutes to prepare yourselves as the Council Chambers are cleared for the duel, and then we will begin.”
The principles of the duel both glared at each other before returning to their corners. Maelgyn closed his eyes, taking a moment to collect himself before the battle, when Euleilla stepped up to kiss him. “Husband,” she said. “Remember my vow. I cannot fight alongside you in this duel, but they will have to kill me to stop me from protecting you should you fall.”
“I know,” Maelgyn sighed, feeling his heart tighten up as he thought of it. “We’ll see what I can do.” He handed her his Sword, and then pulled out another weapon. “And I shall use the weapon you crafted for me during our first battle together to fight him. You will be well represented, love.”
“He isn’t really stronger than you, husband,” she insisted desperately, her composure breaking. “He may be a High Mage. That is easy to see. But you have powers still untapped, and weapons he knows nothing about. You can be a High Mage, yourself, if you don’t hold yourself back too much. You can win this.”
“He’s crazy, he is,” Wangdu noted softly, stepping in to offer his advice. “Even his allies know this, they do. That can be exploited, it can.”
In Treachery Forged (The Law of Swords) Page 38