Heirs at War (The Marmoros Trilogy Book 2)

by Peter Kenson

  Rachel turned and came in from the balcony as Hari hurried across the room to answer a soft tapping at the door.

  “Lord Mahagama is here,” she announced.

  “Show him in, Hari.”

  Mahagama came bustling into the room and made a formal bow. He has changed, Rachel thought, since the attack on the Arctic Fox. He still maintained an almost fatherly attitude towards her but there was a glint of respect in his eye following her dismissal of the previous council. His appointment as Chancellor had been accepted by the other lords and he ran the new, smaller council with great efficiency. They were starting to reach an understanding of each other’s strengths and weaknesses and Rachel found to her surprise, that she was even beginning to like him.

  “There is news from Ystradis, your Majesty,” he began.

  Rachel’s face brightened as she invited him to sit with her. Hari disappeared and would, she knew, return within minutes with the tray of refreshments which she seemed to have permanently ready for all of Rachel’s visitors.

  “The Belsi have stepped up their search for the Resistance hideouts in recent weeks. They have increased the number and the size of their patrols and have set up a special unit with mining equipment to force their way into the tunnels that the Resistance use. Last night Chaqi, one of the leaders of the Resistance, led a group of fighters in an attack on this unit and wiped it out. Most of the Belsi soldiers were killed and their drilling equipment was destroyed.”

  “Chaqi. That name has cropped up a few times in the reports that I’ve seen. Is he your main contact on Ystrad?”

  “No not at all. The council maintains contact with most of the village headmen because the Belsi cannot prevent it. Contact with the Resistance is more difficult because they are forced to live underground in shielded tunnels, to avoid detection. And when they do come up to the surface, they wear special helmets that shield their thoughts for the same reason.

  “The report I received was not directly from Chaqi but from one of the other resistance leaders, a man called Thorson who generally sends his reports via two or three of the village headmen to make sure they get through. And anyway, Chaqi will have to keep his head down for the next few days at least. He is the most successful of the Resistance leaders and there is a substantial price on his head.”

  They paused for a minute as Hari duly reappeared and set out cool drinks and a bowl of fresh fruit on the table beside them.

  “What will the Belsi do now?” Rachel continued, as Hari excused herself.

  “There will be some retribution; there always is. But we do expect it to be limited because Chaqi did not kill the prisoners who surrendered. And also they need the villages to produce food for their soldiers. They arrested a village headman and his wife the other week and the village promptly shut down all food production. Ostensibly it was a massive crop failure due to insect infestation. There are a number of suitable insects in the environment that the farmers normally keep under control.”

  “So the Belsi are dependent on the Ystrad to grow food for them?”

  “Ystradis is a lush and luxuriant planet compared to Belsia. After the conquest, the Belsi shipped across armies of farmers but they have never had anything like the success they imagined. It’s partly due to incompetence and partly due to some ‘discouragement’ applied to both crops and animals on their farms. They haven’t figured it out yet. They routinely take over the best Ystrad farm in the region and within a year they have a crop failure or their herds sicken and die. Meanwhile the displaced Ystrad farmer takes over one of their farms and, lo and behold, it produces a bumper crop.”

  Rachel smiled at him. “And they don’t suspect anything?”

  “Oh they suspect. But they can’t prove anything. The villagers tell them it’s due to natural environmental cycles. They hate us for it but they need us to produce a food surplus.”

  “Then surely we can just stop producing the food surplus and starve them out.”

  “It’s been tried. Once they realised what was happening, the Belsi seized every scrap of food on the planet; left nothing for the villagers. We had some stores squirreled away that they didn’t find of course, and that kept the villagers going for a while. When that started to run out, they tried growing the minimal quantity of food that each village needed to survive, but the Belsi came and seized that as soon as it was harvested. Fifty thousand Ystrad died of starvation that year, before the village elders gave in and started farming normally again.”

  Rachel sat back in shock, her hand covering her mouth. “I… I didn’t know. They are monsters, these Belsi.”

  “That was when the armed resistance really started. It’s grown since then but weapons are hard to come by. They’ve had some successes but they’re outnumbered and outgunned. They’ve lost a lot of good men over the years.”

  “We have to do more to help them. Where do they get their weapons from?”

  “Mostly looted from the Belsi but often not in good condition and without any spare or replacement parts. Initially we found a couple of smugglers who were amenable to making a run for the right price but then the Belsian navy put the planet on total lockdown. They control all the local space and there’s nobody prepared to take the risk now, for any amount of money.”

  “Hm! I know someone who may have some contacts in that line of work,” Rachel said thoughtfully. “If I can arrange something, can we put a load together to send to them?”

  “Assuredly, your Majesty.”

  “Good. Then I will make the arrangements and take the supplies to them myself.”

  “What! No, no, no. That’s completely out of the question.”

  “You misunderstand me, my lord. It was never a question in the first place. I have not been on Ystradis since the day I was born and I would see the planet of my birth. I will visit my people there and I will let them see me. It will give them heart and we will discuss what to do about the Belsi.”

  “But your place is here, Majesty. It is far too dangerous to go to Ystradis. Your people need you here.”

  “Nonsense, my people here are safe and settled, possibly too settled. They claim to miss their homeworld but I do not detect any urgency to get back there and deal with the invaders. I did not come here to live in exile, my lord. I want my planet back and you and the council are going to help me.”

  Mahagama opened his mouth to speak but there was a finality about that last statement that caused him to close it again. Instead, he rose to his feet and bowed low.

  “As your majesty commands”

  “Thank you, my lord,” Rachel said more gently. “And please ask War Minister Dhamina to visit me at his earliest convenience. I wish to discuss the state of the Ystradian navy.”

  “But we don’t have an Ystradian navy, your Majesty.”

  “That, my Lord Mahagama, is precisely what I wish to discuss with him.”

  Chapter 15 - Marmoros

  “Where is she? What have you done with her? I demand to know where she is.”

  Jeren stared down at the fat priest standing in front of the throne.

  “You… demand? I think you forget yourself, priest. You and Lady Yolanthe have been staying here as our guests, partly for your own protection, in case there was any disturbance during the transition of the city to our rule. That period has now ended and, with our permission, Lady Yolanthe and her baby have left Marmoros. In a few days’ time, you will also be free to leave here.”

  Yuris shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “But where has she gone? I should be with her… to protect her. And why can I not leave today?”

  “Lady Yolanthe is travelling under our protection and is well guarded, I can assure you on that point. She did not wish her destination to be known and I will not reveal her secret. And that is the reason you cannot leave yet. If I released you today, you would try to follow her and she did not wish that. So you will stay and enjoy our hospitality for a few more days.”

  “This is ou
trageous,” Yuris spluttered. “Yolanthe is still in a very vulnerable state following the death of her husband and she is under my spiritual care. She needs my support and that of the Church. You have no right to deny her that support.”

  Jeren leapt to his feet in a rage, his arm raised and pointing at Yuris who took an involuntary step backwards.

  “Have a care, priest, lest I enquire more closely about the nature of that support. Lady Yolanthe was attacked in this palace, my palace. How did the intruders know where to find her apartments? The guards on duty say they went straight there. I have questioned the servants most thoroughly and they deny talking to anybody. So how did the assassins know where to go? Who gave them that information?”

  Yuris turned pale and retreated another pace as Jeren stepped down from the dais.

  “I suspect that, had I allowed you to leave with Lady Yolanthe, both she and her infant son would have swiftly fallen into Deribe’s hands, with predictably tragic consequences. Now get out of my sight. You will be notified of when you may leave and at that time, you will be escorted to the valley gates. Until then, I would strongly advise you to stay as far away from me as possible. Now go!”

  Yuris turned and stumbled away as Jeren resumed his throne. Lord Grekan, in his role as Chancellor, waited until the doors closed behind Yuris and then hurried forward with a sheaf of notes in his hand. Jeren looked at him wearily and sighed.

  “What is next, my lord? Something a little less troublesome, I hope.”

  “I’m afraid not, your Majesty. It is a case of marital infidelity.”

  “Marital infidelity! Surely that could be dealt with in a lesser court. Why are you bringing it to me?”

  “It involves two influential families, your Majesty. Neither of them actually sit on your council at this time but they are powerful lords within their own factions and we cannot risk the friction between them developing into open enmity.”

  “Which are the two families?”

  “The families involved are that of Lord Horn from within my faction, and Lord Bardsley from your faction.”

  “I have no faction, my lord,” Jeren said sharply. “I am king by acclamation of all and I will treat all my noble lords the same.”

  “I apologise, your Majesty. I meant no disrespect or to imply any favouritism on your part.”

  “Very well then. Give me the facts.”

  “Lord Horn has recently married the daughter of Lord Bardsley. The marriage was arranged on the journey here to Marmoros. The arrangement was apparently not to the daughter’s liking, the marriage bed even less so and I believe it has not been successfully put to use.”

  “The marriage has not been consummated then?”

  “Ah no, your Majesty. Lord Horn was willing but Lady Marilyn refused him.”

  “I’m sorry but I still don’t see why you have brought this matter before me. This is not the first time a bride has been reluctant on her wedding night. Get Bardsley to talk to her and remind her of her duty.”

  “That has been tried but to no avail.”

  “Then Horn will simply have to be more persuasive, won’t he?”

  “I’m afraid Lord Horn is not a man of great persuasive skill, your Majesty. I understand he did try but... And then, when persuasion failed, he attempted to ‘insist’ on his conjugal rights.”

  “And…?”

  “His bride inflicted a severe injury in a most delicate region and Lord Horn was forced to take to his bed for three days.”

  Jeren fought to keep a smile of his face. “I see. I suppose if the bride is that reluctant, the marriage could simply be annulled. What is Horn’s view?”

  “I believe Lord Horn would not oppose an annulment but there are some complications. The bride came with a substantial dowry which he is refusing to return, as compensation for his loss of face.”

  “And Bardsley…?”

  “Is refusing to take his daughter back without the return of the dowry. And he is demanding proof that the marriage has not been consummated.”

  “Well, have her examined. Surely that’s easy enough…” Jeren broke off as he caught the expression on Grekan’s face. “It’s not going to be that easy, is it?”

  “It appears that Lady Marilyn has an admirer, your Majesty. Whether or not she was intact on her wedding night, she most assuredly is not now.”

  “Ye gods! They don’t make life easy for themselves, do they? Or for us. Who is he?”

  “A family of no importance, your Majesty. The son of a merchant family with no political connections.”

  “Chancellor,” Jeren said softly, “I have already corrected you once today. I do not expect to have to do so again. There are no families of no importance in Marmoros. Whether they are nobly born, of merchant stock or humble farmers, I will treat them all the same. Is that clear?”

  Grekan made a stiff bow. “Yes, your Majesty.”

  “I don’t expect you to necessarily like it, my lord, but I do expect you to carry out my wishes in this regard. I will make no distinction based on class, or wealth or faction. Now are all the parties present?”

  “Lord Horn and Lord Bardsley are waiting outside, and Lady Marilyn is in one of the adjacent rooms.”

  “And the young man? Who is he and where is he?”

  “His name is Abel Sargesson. We have him in custody, your Majesty; awaiting trial for adultery.”

  “I do not wish to deal with this piecemeal, my lord. I want all parties present including the young man and his family. I will adjourn this session for now so that he may be brought here and his family summoned. We will resume in one hour.”

  Grekan bowed and headed for the door, ushering the clerks and other court officials out with him. Jeren looked around to find Baltur waiting quietly in the corner. He stood up and beckoned him over.

  “So what do you make of this little mess?”

  Baltur chuckled. “Rather you than me, Jeren. I’m quite happy playing the humble equerry.”

  “Thanks!” Jeren slapped him on the shoulder. “Right then, humble equerry. Do you happen to know where my mother is?”

  “I believe she went riding with Lord David this morning. I don’t think they’re back yet but I can check if you like.”

  “No let’s go find them ourselves. Have a couple of horses saddled and brought round to the front.”

  They found them in the large meadow outside the city walls where Rachel had created that mysterious, grey displacement dome all those weeks ago. It seemed like an age, Jeren thought, as they trotted across the grassy plain to join Falaise and David, but in reality, it was less than three months.

  “You’re frowning, my dear,” Falaise said with a smile as they approached. “I seem to recall you told me off for that once. Said it would give me wrinkles.”

  “Yes,” Jeren laughed. “And then Lord David wouldn’t love you anymore. Fortunately, you seem to have saved yourself from that fate.”

  “Ah! I’ve just remembered I have an urgent need to be somewhere else,” David said.

  “You are going nowhere, David,” Falaise said, reaching across to deftly grab his bridle. “You will stay here and suffer the insolence of my son alongside me.”

  “What a family. How did I ever get involved with you two?”

  “You are here because you chose to be,” Falaise reminded him. “Vacation, I think you called it.”

  “Some vacation.”

  “Be quiet and pay attention. There is obviously some matter of importance to bring Jeren galloping across the field to find us.”

  Jeren looked at Baltur who trotted off to join Jaks and Izzy, waiting patiently out of earshot.

  “I take it you’ve heard about Lady Marilyn,” he began.

  When they both nodded, he went on. “What am I going to do about it? The marriage is a hollow sham but grounds for annulment are… um, difficult to prove now. Whatever happens, Horn is going to lose face over this and Bardsley is being difficult about
compensating him. And then we have the added complication of the Sargesson family. I have to deal with this decisively or it could degenerate into the sort of family feud that could drag on for generations.”

  “The marriage should never have happened,” Falaise said. “I know Marilyn. She’s bright, intelligent and totally unsuitable for Lord Horn. Oh, she’s attractive enough to have caught his eye, but Bardsley was trying to buy himself some political connection by saddling her with an extremely generous dowry. It was little more than selling her in the market in my view.

  “If you can find some way of ending the marriage that is acceptable to both sides, then the dispute between the noble lords comes down to one of compensation. They are both merchant families; that sort of thing is meat and drink to them. They can haggle that out between themselves, in front of an arbitrator if necessary.”

  “And what about the Sargesson boy’s involvement?”

  “Indiscreet and unwise, on both their parts. Even more so for allowing themselves to be caught. Punish him if you must but while you do so, think about two people who I happen to hold very dear to my heart; their names are Jeren and Rachel.”

  Jeren closed his eyes and sat quietly for a moment. Then he looked up and shook his head. “Slightly different in that neither of us were married but I think you are talking more about feelings and emotions. Thank you Mother. Will you sit with me in the court this afternoon? That is, if you can tear yourself away from Lord David.”

  “Jeren!” Falaise scolded. “Of course I will be there.”

  “If your majesty commands it,” David smiled, “we will have to bear the pain of separation as bravely as we may. Besides, I really do have an appointment with a jewel merchant in the market this afternoon.”

  ***

  David was walking through the gardens between the twin avenues leading from the palace to the market square when he felt the gentle touch of Rachel’s mind. It was only a touch and then she withdrew as protocol demanded to await his response. He looked around and spotted a stone bench beside one of the many small fountains that were fed continuously from the mountain streams above. He seated himself and opened his mind to her touch.