Ashra blinked at the idea. Lorcan as king of them all would be… She couldn’t even determine. It would mean he’d make up his own rules and she would have no say in what happened to her or her lands.
“Someone must take the point of strength,” he said. “And this is the point at which you would want that to be your friends,” he said meaningfully.
“Would you perhaps consider it yourself?”
“That depends on which of the alternatives you find acceptable.”
A frown deepened across her eyebrows. It was probably true that the best result for her would be that her faction, hence Wierstoke, be placed on the throne.
“These factions will grow stronger and more divisive. It was all a game to Raufasger, a means to keep us quarreling amongst ourselves, but now, these factions are all we have. I hope I can depend on your ongoing support.”
Was that the best way to proceed? Was it the only way to proceed? Ashra didn’t know. “I’m not sure it is time to plan a coup just yet, but you know full well that this alliance is in my best interest and will continue to be so.”
He was watching her steadily as she spoke, as if looking for any indication she was lying. Was it a bad thing that he never truly trusted her? But then he never trusted anyone. Flagrant self-interest was what he understood, and what she said was true.
“There is, of course, Lord Lorcan,” he said. “You could fare well aligning yourself with him.”
This wasn’t a discussion she wanted to have, but she understood why Wierstoke was pressing the point.
“It would mean strength, but I can’t convince myself it is in my children’s best interest.”
“Irrespective of what you believe, there is a natural tie between you due to this child.”
“I don’t let my children be used for political maneuvers, Lord Wierstoke.”
“Doesn’t mean Lorcan will stop trying.”
Would he seek to make himself king as Wierstoke expected? In fact, she wasn’t sure a king was the only option. Never would she want to place herself in the position she’d been in under Raufasger. “Actually, Lord Wierstoke, there is a chance that these factions won’t make a new king tolerable.”
“There must be a new leader. It will be chaos without one.”
Sadly, he might be right. “Between Lorcan and our faction, none are strong enough to subdue the other.”
“Not if we unify all against him.”
“Perhaps we are better off negotiating with Lorcan.”
“Then we will always be under his boot. We must put new leadership in place soon, or the whole land will devolve into chaos.”
The hungry people of the village returned to her mind. The food had to keep flowing, or they would starve. Starving people tended to revolt. If they all rushed the citadel, would they have the defenses to stave them off? Did they have the right to fend them off? The people here would obviously say yes. How many would be killed and injured in such events?
Wierstoke was right in that leadership was needed. Infighting amongst themselves would lead to paralysis.
“At the last, we must pick someone to direct Raufasger’s administrative functions, or we will have bigger problems to deal with than who leads. There must be something to lead in the first place. We must ensure nothing breaks down while we determine how leadership is structured. There are too many people who depend on the administrative functions,” Ashra said.
“Prudence is perhaps wise.”
“I suggest a council to govern within the interim.”
Wierstoke considered the suggestion. “Others would say we are better off to determine the leadership question now. Act decisively.”
“How? Should we ask Lorcan nicely? At what point will he be willing to lay aside his ambition, or shall we all gather our armies and pitch them against each other?”
“If everyone supports our faction, Lorcan will have no choice but to accede.”
In that moment, Ashra knew Wierstoke would be making a pitch for the throne no matter what she said. It was disappointing, but she wasn’t all that surprised.
Looking over at Lorcan, she watched him in conversation. Wierstoke wasn’t going to succeed in getting everyone to support him against Lorcan. In these things and in this place, absolutes were highly unlikely, but Wierstoke’s ambition refused to let him see that. The call of opportunity was too strong.
Chapter 18
Ashra had difficulty sleeping. Thoughts kept turning over in her mind and refused to settle. She woke at various times during the night, her mind trying to inform her that something important was going on and she needed to pay attention. Well, she already knew that, but her subconscious refused to acknowledge her understanding.
Grogginess slowed her mind as the sun finally rose. It had been a disturbing evening. Wierstoke’s plans and expectations proposed a new set of uncomfortable ideas. Would he make a good king? By far, he’d be better than Raufasger, but he was also a man who cared mostly for himself. The idea of a king being corrupted by his own power was also scary—even worse if Lorcan ended up ruling. Lorcan had a propensity to force her hand if he could, and as king, he could make her do just about anything—including handing over her child.
But then Lorcan had been kind to the people of Tondoke, and that counted for something. Would Wierstoke care about the broader community, about people outside of this court? They had been at the mercy of one ruler, and now another would be put in his place. This was a choice that needed careful selection, because another ruler like Raufasger would be unacceptable. There had to be a mechanism for checking and limiting their power.
Rising from bed, she dressed. There would be some naps required during the day, she knew. Maybe she should spend the day in her apartments and recover from the shock of the previous day. There was, after all, no Raufasger to insist they be at his beck and call, continually serve as witness and audience to his unrelenting magnificence.
Noise was heard outside, the forceful drone of boots. There was also shouting. It had to be the guard. What were they doing near her apartments? Lorcan. The thought came screaming through her head. Had Wierstoke somehow used the guard to strike a blow at his rival? That would not be acceptable. In effect, that would be a coup. It would be just like Wierstoke to strike as quickly as possible.
With hurried steps, she ran to the door and pulled it open. There was still shouting and the impatient boots of numerous men. But as she moved along, she observed that they were downstairs rather than in Lorcan’s direction. Ashra stopped at the landing of the stairs and listened.
The guard were down the stairs, arresting Liesdal. Confusion bit into her mind. Why would they arrest Liesdal, an elderly, bumbling man? Something made of glass crashed in the melee and shattered. Surely, they weren’t being violent with the man? He was frail. This couldn’t be right.
“What’s going on?” she said with as much authority as she could muster when she walked down the stairs. A guard stood at the bottom and refused to let her pass.
“Business of the state, lady,” the guard said. He was armed. They all were.
“What business has the state arresting an old man?”
He gave her a warning look and stood firm, again refusing to let her pass.
“Answer me!” she demanded in a harsh tone. Her forcefulness made him waver. She could see it in his eyes. Like everyone else in this castle, he feared authority, even the semblance of authority.
“Mr. Liesdal has been uncovered as the murderer of the liege,” he said quietly.
Ashra’s surprise was palpable. Her eyebrows rose loftily. Mr. Liesdal poisoning Raufasger? It was too ludicrous to even consider. “He is an old, feeble man.”
“The proof is irrefutable. He provided the substance that the liege consumed.”
“Doesn’t mean he is responsible. Someone could have used him… ”
“He does not deny it.”
At that moment, the guard came out with Mr. Liesdal, holding him by the arms. He looked both d
efiant and uncompromising as they forced him away. He threw a look at Ashra and in that instance, she saw not a feeble old man, but a hardness she hadn’t seen before. There was sharp intelligence in his eyes. Now she knew that, to some degree, the bumbling and absent-minded man had been a ruse.
His daughter had been killed in the war. Ashra had known her at one point, but that had been a long time ago. If this accusation was true, and the defiant look in Mr. Liesdal’s eyes suggested it was, then he must have been biding his time. Raufasger had at times also humiliated and bullied the man, but this was probably revenge for his daughter.
His bumbling nature had made him overlooked by everyone, including her—and especially Raufasger, who’d thought Mr. Liesdal too broken and fearful to dare act against him. The assumption had been wrong and Raufasger had paid with his life—deservedly so. Perhaps that had been Liesdal’s intention all along,
Most of the guards followed as they led the man away, including the guard who’d stopped her from stepping off the stairs. There were still a few inside Mr. Liesdal’s apartments, no doubt gathering evidence, or simply poisonous substances.
Ashra stood with her hand to her mouth, still too shocked to know how to react. Was there something she should do? Should she try to help him in some way? Essentially, he’d done them all a favor, but he’d also murdered in cold blood.
Finally, she turned back to make her way back to her apartments, but saw Lorcan standing at the top of the stairs. His expression was guarded the way it always was when anything happened, a neutrality until he knew how to act or respond to a development.
“It seems they have found Raufasger’s murderer,” she said.
“One none of us saw coming, including Raufasger.”
Ashra reached the landing where he stood.
“One man’s vengeance and all our lives change,” Lorcan said.
“I think he spoke for a lot of people, all those injured by Raufasger and his quest for power.”
“Perhaps.”
“Wierstoke is seeking to make himself king,” she said quietly.
“I am aware.”
There was a silence for a moment as neither of them seemed to have anything to say.
“Problem is, as atrocious a liege as Raufasger was,” Lorcan stated, “he had legitimacy as a ruler. He conquered this land, and hence, had a natural legitimacy. Wierstoke, or anyone else here, does not.”
“Are you saying there must be a fight for the throne?”
“I am saying there must be something that legitimizes the ruler.”
“Election would.”
“Perhaps. But then that ruler would be beholden to the electors. That is not a position any ruler wants to be in. Being a ruler makes no one popular and the people who elect could then change their minds.”
Chewing her lip, Ashra considered the thought. “Beats war.” By the look on his face, Lorcan looked unconvinced. “We must find a way to avoid bloodshed. There has been too much of it already.”
“It would be nice to think we could.” His desire to avoid violence made her heart soar. When it came down to it, he seemed to want to do the right thing, and Ashra respected him for that.
*
Ashra walked out to the large courtyard to the east of the citadel. A notice had arrived that summoned the entire court here. A wooden platform stood at one end, but it didn’t look recently constructed. The wood was weather-beaten and gray.
This wasn’t a courtyard she had been in before, so she didn’t know what this signified, but the wooden platform also had darker stains.
Nervousness crept up her body as she took her place in the quiet and somber crowd. A bad feeling twisted her gut, suggesting she was about to see something she didn’t want to.
No one spoke and all gazes shifted to an opening door leading up from below. Guards appeared with Mr. Liesdal, whose hands were bound behind his back. Again, he looked defiant, even accepting of his fate. He wasn’t going to survive this. This was to be his execution.
Normally, Raufasger would be overseeing the proceedings, but he wasn’t here and there was no one to take his place, to punctuate the fanfare and taunt the victim. Mr. Liesdal wasn’t technically a victim; he was an unrepentant culprit.
They forced him down on his knees. Being an old man, it hurt him and he winced slightly, but he looked calm and undisturbed. For a moment, Ashra wondered if he understood what was occurring, but of course he did.
The guards milled around the platform, one with a straight, long sword. That was what they were going to use. Ashra’s stomach rolled in revolt. Why had she answered this summons? Why hadn’t she realized this was what they were being called for.
“Any last words?” one of the guards said with scorn.
Liesdal cleared his throat. “I truly hate you all, and I am only sorry I didn’t get a chance to wipe you all from the face of this land. Burn in hell, the lot of you.”
The words shocked Ashra, the pure vehemence and hatred. She’d dealt with him so many times and had never seen that deep and complete hatred. It was the first time that she’d realized that to some, the hatred of Raufasger extended to them as well—his court. They weren’t seen as his victims as much as his accomplices.
Why wouldn’t their hatred extend to the court? They could all be seen as parasites, the pampered elite, who lived here in their sumptuous apartments, wearing silk and jewelry when everyone else starved.
As the sword was raised, Ashra closed her eyes. The sickening thud of the sword hitting home reverberated through her body and she had to stop herself from throwing up. It took more than one attempt to accomplish their brutal task.
Chapter 19
How quickly everything had changed. Ashra used to feel that things were so uncertain under Raufasger’s rule, but his oversight seemed steadfast now. Everything was up in the air, and maybe Wierstoke did have a point: there was opportunity in change.
This was a chance to redo things, to not make the same mistakes again. They didn’t have to live under a tyrant if they chose. Even if they chose a king well, they had done no work to ensure that they would not again be at the mercy of the whims of the ruler. They could do that, curtail the king’s power, ensure that safety was assured for all—even insist on a fair judicial system. The way it used to be before Raufasger’s rise.
The possibilities were floating around Ashra’s mind and she was starting to feel excited. There was so much they could do now to make things better. Protection and safety for all. Primarily, she wanted a world where she could be with her children and they would be safe, one where she wouldn’t be subjugated to the edicts of a ruler.
In fact, she didn’t want a king in the manner that had been at all. Surely, there were other forms of governance they could consider. Maybe even one where no single person had the power to subjugate another. It wasn’t just her who would feel that way, but a number of people, who were at risk no matter who crawled up on the throne. If it were Lorcan, she would be subject to his will. That was not an outcome she was prepared to tolerate.
Some would think that would mean she would lend her support to Wierstoke and his campaign for the throne, but she now had loftier ambitions.
These new ideas had hold of her and she couldn’t escape them even if she wanted to. Her mind was buzzing with new possibilities. This was the chance to make the world a better place.
Just how to achieve it was what really needed some thought—plus the fact that she needed to be clear about what she wanted to achieve. At the core, she didn’t want power to rest with one person. They needed a safety net to protect them from an insane ruler. And the court itself was an example. Alliances made up the structure and they shifted to serve the people of the court. Raufasger spurred on the rifts and the confrontations, but did they really need someone to sit on top of them? Some would still be more powerful than others—including herself.
Was there a more fair way? A full democracy would be the most fair, but she knew that would be a proposal too fa
r for anyone here at court, fearing the masses would immediately strip them of their lands. They might actually be right to be concerned. The people here at court represented the ruling elite who had invaded and reformed this land to suit themselves. Through her marriage to Torunn, she had been shifted from one of masses to one of the elite.
A full democracy would never be acceptable to the people who held the power now. It would be too radical an idea to seriously consider, and they had means to raise armies. Pushing that idea would only result in bloodshed, and she wanted to avoid that at all cost. But she could make steps to create more fairness. Primarily, the violence had to stop. Raufasger had ruled by force and intimidation, and countless people had suffered for it.
There had to be a way to make things better, to feed the people who were hungry. There had been a time when the land had been prosperous and hunger hadn’t existed. With Raufasger’s arrival, all that had changed. The sad truth was that Raufasger had wanted inequality, had wanted people to be hungry and subjugated.
A knock reverberated across her apartments. She’d guessed right when she’d wondered if it was Lorcan. He stood in the corridor outside, wearing his typical black. He always looked so unruffled, even when the sands shifted dramatically beneath their feet.
“How are you?” he asked as she let him in.
“Well. Like everyone else, I suspect, I have been thrown by these developments.”
“Yes. Everyone I have spoken to is shocked. Have you spoken to Wierstoke?”
Ashra looked him in the eye, trying to read what it was he really wanted to know. Was he here pumping her for information? Perhaps his query was innocent. The last thing they’d spoken about was evaluating their positions, but she also knew that Lorcan played longer games than that.
“I have.”
“As you mentioned, he is making an attempt for the throne,” Lorcan said. “Will you support him?”
So far, Lorcan had not told her specifically that he was going for the throne as well. Only Wierstoke had asserted it as a given. Would Lorcan assume that her loyalty to Wierstoke was secure? Her defection would be meaningful, as would her support for either party.
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