by MJ Blehart
“Damn him! Damn them! Damn this whole thing!” she exclaimed, paying no attention to the others. “Why now? Why did he go and call me now, before everything else was ready? This is not how I planned this, not at all! Damn him!”
“Would you care to let the rest of us in on this?” asked Cam calmly, never having seen her in such a state before.
She rounded on him. “Damn you as well, Cam Murtallan! If you had not come to Sharron when you did, and gotten yourself captured, we never would have committed to such an act! I should have listened to Dak, let you hang!”
“Lyrra-Sharron,” Dak cut in warningly.
She turned on him as well. “What do you have to say for yourself, Dak Amviir? You have something worthwhile to contribute to our cause? What knowledge of military strategy do you wish to impart on me this time?”
“Enough, Lyrra-Sharron!” said Cam, arising.
“Do not even THINK to take that tone with me, Cam Murtallan, worthless Sorcerer! I am a Princess, you are a...”
“I think you should calm down before you say something you will regret, your Highness,” interrupted Dak grimly, tersely, getting to his feet. “Stop insulting your officers.”
She advanced on him. “You dare take a tone like that with me!? Who do you think you are?”
He stood his ground, looking down at her, more imposing than anyone had seen him before. Everyone else arose. “I am your second-in-command, and your friend, Lyrra-Sharron Anduin. We are the people you count on the most. Don’t loose your venom on me, or Cam, or any other here. Stop. Think. Calm down.”
She visibly paused, and seemed to catch her breath. Then she did inhale deeply, and took a step back from the imposing man before her. “Yes, yes I see. I am…sorry. I lost my temper. We have laid out these plans so carefully, and this was not a part of them, not yet. I just...I just got so angry. I am sorry.”
Dak nodded his head at her apology, and the others let out a breath they did not realize they’d been holding. She looked to Cam.
“I am sorry, Cam. I did not mean that...”
He waved her off. “Forgiven. Now, would please explain this, Lyrra-Sharron?”
She began to pace again, but slower, with less menace. “Word has come to me that Erlonn Broyva, new Speaker of the Common, has called me to present myself before the assemblage, and state my claim. He wants me before them as soon as possible, to give my reasons and state my purpose.”
“That’s what you’ve wanted all along, isn’t it?” asked Cam.
She shook her head. “This is not what I intended. The message has not been made completely clear, yet. Presenting myself to Common now is premature - they may well dismiss my claims out of hand.”
“Don’t go, then,” said Cam.
She faced towards him, and snickered bitterly. “You do not understand, Cam. I have to go. If I do not, the Common will declare me in rebellion, and that will end any claim I have to the crown of Sharron. It is too soon. This presents a lot of problems.”
“I’m still not sure I fully understand,” said Cam. “If this was not the goal, what was?”
She sighed, taking up her pacing again. “These things work very differently in Sharron than they do anywhere else, as I have mentioned time and again. You see, if the Common supports me, my father must back down. If they stand against me, either I back down, or incite a civil war. We need to humiliate my father enough to cause him to make some additional errors in our favor, and to show how ineffectual he is as King. They need clear proof my father is an unfit, ineffective, dangerous ruler. We were just getting that, just beginning to make that more and more evident, but now I have to stand before the Common, and make my claims to them.”
She took a deep breath, then continued. “I do not feel I have enough proof of my father’s poor rule, yet. They only see a little of it. I go make my claims to them now, it is mostly just my word against his. A little more time, and I would have proved my father to be the criminally negligent fiend I know him to be.”
Cam sat back, pondering.
“You do realize, Lyrra-Sharron, that this may well be a trap,” stated Nadav.
“I know. But only if my father wants me killed. My capture would serve almost no purpose, save to incite a real rebellion.”
Dak wore a concerned look. “You don’t think your father would have you killed, do you?”
She shrugged. “I cannot be sure. At this point, yes, that may well be his plan. It may be the only course of action he can take to prevent further division of Sharron.”
“Don’t go, then,” stated Dak.
“You do not understand, Dak. I must,” she repeated. “If I refuse, they will likely take up a vote, and if they declare me in open rebellion, I will never win their support. If I usurp the throne in that manner, our enemies will come over, and carve up Sharron to their liking. I have no choice.”
They were all silent for a time.
“It would seem, your Highness, that we should plan a trip to Mintarn,” remarked Andim.
“I, uh, I can’t go there,” remarked Kallan quickly. “I’ll stay behind, take command of the base til you get back.”
Lyrra-Sharron shook her head. “Kallan, if we go to Mintarn, we all go. The entire operation. If this is a ruse, we shall need everyone we have got to protect me and our interests.”
Kallan rubbed at his eyes a moment, clearly regrouping himself. Softly, he concurred, “I can do this. If I must, I can face him. I am a Falcon Raider. I am a soldier.” He looked to Lyrra-Sharron again. “Yes, I’m with you.”
“This is still complicated,” stated Dak. “We’ll need to call on Torman and his crew. We’d better pick a place to meet up with them.”
“You’ll want everyone to march?” asked Cam.
Lyrra-Sharron turned to him. “Yes. If this is to be an ambush, my father will have a lot of soldiers waiting for us. I would rather have a brute force, than a small troupe. They will not take me without a fight.”
A loud rap on the door startled everyone.
“What is it?” asked Lyrra-Sharron, not hiding her annoyance at the interruption.
One of the Raiders, Meliana, came into the room. “Begging your pardon, your Highness. One of our spies came across an interesting...situation. It demands your immediate attention.”
“How important can it be?” asked Lyrra-Sharron.
Another Raider came in, and Cam recognized Vurgan, one of his students. “Lyrra-Sharron, I was quietly recruiting at a tavern about fifteen miles from here, when I came across this man. He was clearly in a disguise, and he was seeking us. I approached cautiously, and identified him instantly. I thought at first it was a trap, but he insisted on speaking with you. He’s been disarmed, and brought here blindfolded. Shall I escort him in?”
Lyrra-Sharron gestured for him to do so, obviously curious. The others arose.
The blindfolded man was led in. His hands were tied behind his back. At a nod from Lyrra-Sharron, Vurgan uncovered his eyes.
“Welcome to Falcon Raider headquarters, Baron Tilroan,” stated Lyrra-Sharron matter-of-factly.
Andim, Kallan and Nadav all traded a look.
“At last,” said the Baron calmly. “I thought we would never get here.”
“And just what is it brings you here, Fornon Val-Cara?” asked Lyrra-Sharron.
The Baron looked about at all those in the room. He was a middle aged man near fifty, with greying brown hair and beard, deep set eyes, and a gaunt frame. He looked tired, but alert. He’d always had a reputation as a sharp man, but had never been a supporter of the Anduins.
House Anduin had taken the throne from House Tilroan, and had never given it back, after all.
“Quite an impressive lot, your Highness. Your operation has caused quite a stir.”
“Did you come to us for a reason, Baron Tilroan, or are you a spy sent by the King?” asked Lyrra-Sharron.
The Baron sniggered mockingly. “Certainly not. As if I’d spy for him. Our families have not gotten on
well in, what, five-hundred years or so? No matter. I’ve come to make you an offer.”
Lyrra-Sharron sat down casually, as did the others. “I am listening.”
“Yesterday morning, Lord Tulock decreed Invocation of Royal Commission,” intoned Baron Tilroan. “He claims there is an impending battle on the front lines with the Medaelians. The King is gathering most of the Army on the outskirts of the Vann Region.”
“We have heard rumors of an impending invasion,” commented Lyrra-Sharron. “Are you claiming these were invented by the King?”
“Not at all,” stated the Baron. “But I do not think the emergency is such that Royal Commission need be invoked. I believe that was done simply to silence our request for the formation of a fourth seat of government.”
Lyrra-Sharron snickered mirthlessly. “My dear Baron, were you King, would you allow this branch of government to be formed?”
The Baron shrugged. “I would at least hear them out. This is outright wrong, what your father is allowing.”
“What do you mean?” questioned Lyrra-Sharron.
“Do you have some water? I’m feeling rather parched,” remarked the Baron.
Lyrra-Sharron gestured to Vurgan, who went to a table and poured a goblet of water. He presented it to the Baron.
“My thanks,” Baron Tilroan said, pausing to drink. “He cannot just declare Invocation of Royal Commission to silence our requests. We have rights. We are not common soldiers he can order about, send into battle and whatnot. He has gone too far this time.”
“What are you suggesting?” asked Lyrra-Sharron.
The Baron took another drink. “You are aware that Erlonn Broyva has called you to account to the Common?” She nodded her head once in response. “Of course you are. I’ve heard rumors of what you are telling people. Many rumors. How would it look, though, if you presented yourself with three Barons at your side?”
Lyrra-Sharron pretended nonchalance, examining the nails of her right hand. “Three Barons, you say?”
Baron Tilroan’s eyes bore into her. “Three Barons.”
“On my side, you say?” she asked casually.
Tilroan looked annoyed. “Yes.”
“Which three, Baron Tilroan?”
“Myself. Baron Foltupp. Baron Dovan,”
“None of you have ever been overly supportive of my family before, my lord Baron.”
“Perhaps not,” replied Baron Tilroan calmly. “But we would be willing to support you, as opposed to your father.”
“You would, however, be accused of High Treason for violating an Invocation of Royal Commission,” remarked Lyrra-Sharron.
“We have two weeks,” stated Baron Tilroan. “You must go to Common. If we bring our household guards to you, and all go to Common together, that will further strengthen your claim, would it not?”
Lyrra-Sharron considered this. “Perhaps. You are telling me that you and Barons Foltupp and Dovan would bring your household guards to the Falcon Raiders, and openly support my claim to the throne?”
“I would even go so far as to offer testimony on your behalf to the Common,” added Baron Tilroan. “That would certainly lend more strength to your claims.”
“In exchange for what?” asked Lyrra-Sharron.
Baron Tilroan smirked at that. “When you are Queen, we ask only to be…remembered.”
“Positions on the Council?” Lyrra-Sharron queried.
Baron Tilroan only gazed at her over his goblet.
“Meliana, Vurgan, please take Baron Tilroan to get some food and freshen up. We need to discuss this, alone.”
Both Falcon Raiders bowed to her.
“Let me offer our hospitality, Baron Tilroan. I shall consider your offer carefully, and let you know my decision forthwith.”
The Baron inclined his head to her, and left with Meliana and Vurgan.
“You cannot be serious!” exclaimed Nadav with open contempt. “Baron Tilroan is an ass! That blowhard has practically defied the Crown openly on any number of occasions, and now to do this...”
“Enough, Nadav!” interjected Lyrra-Sharron.
“This is only more trouble, Lyrra-Sharron! Do you really want him, or either of those other two jackasses on Council?”
“If he pledges to support me, this could sway the Common.”
“Or it could incite civil war,” added Dak levelly.
Lyrra-Sharron turned to him. “We have all heard about this threat on the Medaelian border. But Wilnar-Medira postures like this all the time!”
“It sounds more like he’s well past posturing in this instance, though,” commented Nadav.
“Even if the rumors of an alliance with Cordianlott are true, this could all just be a ploy on the part of my father,” Lyrra-Sharron observed thoughtfully. “Maybe he is just mobilizing to actually invade Medaelia. Maybe he is really trying to flush us out.”
“If I may say so, Lyrra-Sharron, we have every reason to believe the impending invasion of the Medaelians is real,” stated Dak, uncharacteristically verbose.
“So my father goes and declares an Invocation of Royal Commission? He has still got a lot of soldiers looking for us.”
“What if this is an elaborate scheme to ensnare us, Lyrra-Sharron?” asked Nadav.
“Tilroan? Plotting with my father? I think the sun would cease to rise before that would happen,” stated Lyrra-Sharron.
“The timing is almost too convenient,” Dak commented. “He comes to you, just as we learn the Common wants you to present yourself? I don’t like it.”
“The support of three Barons would definitely help to sway the Common, though,” said Lyrra-Sharron thoughtfully. “We get them on my side, and after they declare for me, I will have the Crown of Sharron, and I will deal with Wilnar-Medira, myself.”
“This is dangerous,” Cam warned, every fiber of his being sounding an alarm. “If they are poised to strike at Sharron, and you take the Crown now, they might just invade in the ensuing confusion.”
“No, I doubt very much they are that close to invasion,” stated Lyrra-Sharron. “The Sharron Army has been massing at the border for more than a month. I can hardly believe Wilnar-Medira would move against Sharron now. It is the middle of Stillness, and he has never won a battle against us during this season. Moreover, we have the largest standing Army in the world!”
“The rumors of alliances with Cordianlott and Lirdarra?” asked Nadav.
“Even if they are true, the numbers would still be slightly in our favor, and even if they are not, we can handle those pathetic excuses for military forces.”
“We should proceed with caution,” said Dak calmly. “We’re rushing into this headlong. If we turn our little rebellion into a full-on civil war, they will certainly strike.”
“Dak, there will be no civil war,” Lyrra-Sharron defended. “When I present myself to Common, with three old, powerful houses backing me, they will almost have to support me! This is it! This will make it happen! We will finally accomplish our goals!”
“I don’t like having to rely on those three useless Barons for anything,” Nadav remarked.
“Watch your mouth, Nadav Rivarr,” said Lyrra-Sharron angrily. “I allow you a certain amount of brevity as one of my most trusted Lieutenants, but that does not mean you can openly badmouth one of your peers!”
“This simply does not feel right, Lyrra-Sharron,” added Cam. “Maybe we should wait this out, learn if there really is an impending battle on the Medaelian border. Maybe we’d best try and confirm the existence of these alliances. You don’t want to be given the crown of a Kingdom about to be torn apart by its neighbors. If we move like this now, we might just break the Kingdom apart from within, and they’ll sweep in from without, and you will be left with nothing. I think we should delay before we make a rash decision.”
“No!” shouted Lyrra-Sharron. “I have waited my whole life! I have stayed my hand long enough. I will not sit idly by anymore. I want the crown now! I will not wait until I am fifty, and m
y father is gone. This is my only chance. I will delay no longer!”
A profound silence filled the room. Lyrra-Sharron gaped at her officers. They all simply returned her look.
“We move on this now. Common wants to call me to account, and by the Falcons of my House, I will go! I take the Falcon Raiders with me. All of them. I will take the support of the Barons, too. My time to rule as Queen of Sharron is now. Are you with me?”
The officers one by one acknowledged in the affirmative. Nadav joined, hesitantly. Cam alone made no move.
“Cam Murtallan, are you with me?” asked Lyrra-Sharron impatiently.
The Sorcerer gazed at the Princess of Sharron, and at the others in the room. They all wore concerned looks on their faces.
“We stand together, Cam Murtallan, or this cannot be done. If you are not still supporting me, you will take your things and be gone before the sun sets this day. Make your choice. Are you with me?”
Cam glanced towards Andim, saw the worry on his face, matched by Kallan. Nadav stared at the floor. Dak wore a weary look that spoke volumes.
“I am with you, Lyrra-Sharron,” he said softly.
“Alright. We make preparations to move out tomorrow. Nadav, go to Torman. He just moved his base into the mountains, southwest of Gara-Sharron. You will find one of his people in the tavern at the Folgan-Mintarn-Gara-Sharron crossroads. He shall take you to them. Bring them all to Tarmollo. We will set up camp near there, and wait. We march, en masse, to Mintarn.”
“And the Baron?” asked Nadav.
“I shall have him brought in here. I will send several Falcon Raiders with him, and they will meet with the other Barons involved. We shall bring them and their guards to different places, in case they are plotting with my father. If they really are with us, we will lead them to Tarmollo as well.”
Nadav let out a shallow, exasperated breath. “I’m still not sure...”
“It is not your concern, Nadav Rivarr, it is mine,” Lyrra-Sharron said, her patience for Nadav clearly gone. “You are my cadet, and my subordinate. Accept your place or be gone.”
“I am at your command, Lyrra-Sharron,” Nadav said without hesitation, but also without conviction.