“Me too, but you don’t have to say anything. Maybe they will be too drunk and sick to show up.” Louis pushed back his hair. The earring felt cold on Selen’s abdomen.
“You would hate that,” Selen said, “or maybe it would be a way to sort out the ones to trash.”
“Nice you got it.” Louis smiled.
“About the royal guard. I made the list you wanted. Here is my proposal.” Selen handed him one of the papers. Louis read through the names. Selen had chosen among the most faithful and honest soldiers of the Rebellion that he had judged apt to the task.
“Folc?”
“I know he will stick out by his youth, but he will never betray you.” It was also a way to give the boy a roof over his head and to keep him close.
“I was not objecting. We will acknowledge them this afternoon.” Louis crept up and kissed him, an arm around his waist. Selen gave back the kiss and the cuddle. “Shall we prepare ourselves and see who those three mysterious counselors are?” Louis said.
As foreseen, Honfroi Tollbridge and Evrardin Delnay were present. Another counselor was Hernays Dunstan. Selen had seen the man dance during the festivities. A jovial, handsome, blond man who apparently had abused the wine. Hernays’s eyes were hollow, and by his features, Selen presumed the man still drowned in his hangover. The fourth man was sober and aware. His name was Mauger Hayward. The strong, bearded man with brown skin looked stern and ready to begin the discussions. Selen had never seen him before. All were nobles. It seemed it was the main condition to be in the high council. Louis stared at the last man.
“What on earth are you doing here?” Louis inquired.
“I assist at the council, Your Majesty. As all my predecessors have done before,” the high priest answered.
“I ask you to leave this table. I would like to begin the discussions,” Louis said. All the counselors, Pembroke included, looked surprised.
“Your Majesty, the high priest—” Pembroke said.
“Has understood my command,” Louis insisted.
“But I am one of the most important men of this city. My word weights,” The high priest objected with indignation.
“It would be if you led people to a social harmony and an inner communion with our Lord,” Louis said. “But you use your function to maintain the people in ignorance in the fear of the powerful. You are a rampart for tyranny. Anyway, I don’t want a religious man at my table.”
“I have to give shelter to your men in my outbuildings,” the high priest snarled. The clumsy threat was badly received by everyone.
“Would you dare refuse assistance and compassion to men in need?” Louis retorted, looking at the priest with daggers in his eyes. “And it’s Your Majesty. This is your last warning.”
The man looked around him for support, but no one spoke. “Your Majesty, I am the high priest, I represent the gods on earth.”
“I don’t mistake the censer for the God,” Louis replied crisply.
Infuriated, the high priest rose and left the room.
Louis turned to Pembroke. “How much does the Crown give to the Church through donations and granted taxes on the population?”
Though Selen had only simple notions of economy, Pembroke’s answer sounded excessive if Selen compared the sum to the cost of yesterday’s festivities.
“Cut all. Let him live on roots. It will teach him the meaning of charity,” Louis said. “And as we talk about religion, I forbid public manifestations of faith that are not related to a traditional celebration day. I want the doors of every temple open as a shelter for the poor and to remind these priests that they are a part of this city. Temples are not private property. At the same time, besides their holy occupations, every priest must exercise a profession useful for the population. Finally, the new laws will be proclaimed in the temples, but I don’t want any mention of God in the documents. Regardless of God’s infinite grandeur and the merit of his Church, the earth belongs to men’s hands, and priests belong to the laws of this world in the spirit of truth, and truth itself comes from God.”
Pembroke took notes. Selen thought that if Louis's words were put into action, the blow would shake one of the pillars of the framework which hemmed in this society. Selen still had difficulties in understanding this concept of religion and the ridiculous importance these people put in the men guarding the temples. The gods were everywhere, not locked in temples, and anyone could talk to them. He covered his smile with a hand and looked at the gaping counselors.
“So, my lords, shall we begin?” Louis asked.
“Well, Your Majesty, there are the functions of your ministers, the Crown’s finances, and your name,” Pembroke listed.
“What about my name?” Louis asked astounded.
“Yes, Your Majesty. We will have to fix the heraldry and the protocol,” Pembroke explained. “But we can talk about it later,” he added, noticing that the subject embarrassed Louis. “So, the functions of your ministers.”
“As you probably know already, Selen will bring his voice to this council as a physician of the court. As for the ministries, I have decided that you, Pembroke, will be treasurer. Honfroi, you will be chamberlain.”
“It will be an honour, Your Majesty,” the round man said. Selen did not see where the honour was in being in charge of the palace. Still, the title sounded important.
“Mauger. You will be keeper of the seals,” Louis carried on.
This was an important function, and by the disappointed look on Evrardin’s face, much coveted.
“Hernays, you will be in charge of the city watch,” Louis said.
Selen stared at the man. Hernays was probably a few years younger than him. He must come from an important family to receive such a post, usually entrusted to seasoned knights. Hernays winked at him with a lewd smile. Selen looked away in confusion. A very important family.
“And Evrardin, you will be responsible for the city’s planning and architecture,” Louis said.
Evrardin looked at Louis aghast and puffed up like a frog. “Your Majesty…”
“It is an important post. I intend to make changes in the capital. I need someone who knows the place and its people,” Louis said.
And with Pembroke holding the purse strings, the man had his hands tied. He would be important but powerless.
“But, Your Majesty, you have not named a high constable,” Evrardin said.
“Because I don’t need one. I am the king and commander of the army in case of war, and there won’t be any more war,” Louis responded. “What of the state finances?” his friend asked to change the subject and close the discussion.
“Well, Your Majesty is not broke…but the treasury has seen better days,” Pembroke said, embarrassed.
“If I may suggest something, Your Majesty,” Honfroi said, “we could trade more goods with the Iron Marches.”
“The answer is in the quantity, Your Majesty. We need to create more money to invest in long-term projects,” Evrardin proposed. “I could come up with a few ideas for buildings.”
“Ah, Your Majesty. Taxes. There is nothing that works better than new taxes,” Hernays exclaimed.
“Indeed, indeed. Any more useful suggestions?” Louis asked. Selen heard the sarcasm behind the amiable tone. Mauger stayed silent. “Then, I thank you for your counsels, my lords. You can take your leave. Pembroke, I will have a word with you.” He made a sign to Selen to stay as well. The ministers rose and left the room.
“You have not told me your decision about the taxes, Your Majesty,” Pembroke said.
“Apply a tax on the foreign trade. The bread is needed here. All transactions of lands done by the Crown under Agroln’s reign are considered invalid. Take back all the lands and divide them into useful parcels you will share equally between the poor to eradicate mendicity. At the same time, all the nobles who have not shown active support to the Rebellion during the war will have a part of their lands confiscated,” Louis turned to Pembroke. “Yes, impose a tribute, not ta
xes, we make it simple, but proportionated to the incomes. I mean, increasing. And everyone has to pay. Remember that a man doesn’t need more money than he needs to take care of his family and live decently on his own parcel of land. Do not create a single coin. What we need to eradicate is speculation. Maybe these measures will unblock money and give work to the people.”
Pembroke looked at Selen, who nodded. “They won’t tolerate…” Pembroke said.
“I know, it will be hard,” Louis interrupted him. “You don’t need to do everything in one day. Yet, we have to be firm, and make it public to have the support of the population.” Louis rose. “They showed us yesterday how filthy rich they were. I will show them that opulence is infamy.” Louis and Selen headed for the door. Louis turned back. “What of my name?”
The big books were spread open on the desk. Selen tried to understand something in the long, obscure lists of sums and accounts of the treasury while Louis had buried himself in the laws register.
“It is a nightmare,” Louis sighed. “These laws are abstruse, outdated, and unjust. I would not follow them myself, let alone force them on the people.”
“Can’t we brush out the oldest ones and insist on the most important?” Selen suggested.
“This is what we will have to do until we have new laws. God knows what they apply in justice courts right now,” Louis exclaimed.
“It is a lot of work, but you could administer justice yourself until you have written new laws,” Selen said.
Louis raised his head and stared at him. “No, my love. You don’t understand. If I administer justice without following the law, it will only be my own subjective opinion. Everything has to be done according to the laws, and I can’t write them myself. They must represent the people’s will. If the people are consulted individually in the creation of the laws, everyone will come with what is best for his own interest, and the sum of all those interests will be the best for everyone. With wise and inflexible laws, the whole system will work in a harmonious, natural way, without weakness or constraint.”
Selen gaped at Louis. He progressively understood the level of social justice his friend wanted to reach. It nearly made his head swim.
The door of the solar slammed open and closed briskly. “Jesus Christ, Louis! What on earth have you done up there?” Lissandro shouted.
“I know you are my friend, but it happens I am the king. Don’t make a scandal,” Louis threatened him.
“The high priest and the nobles at the same time, on the first day. Are you out of your mind?” Lissandro hissed.
“I did what had to be done,” Louis snarled, getting up.
“According to your handbook or to the situation? Louis, you could kill all the nobles of the city, maybe it would still be what had to be done. It doesn’t mean you have to do it,” Lissandro said. “Do you have any idea of the ascendancy a priest has on his community? And it’s still nothing compared to the nobles’ power of destruction.”
How can you preach inaction? Selen thought. “These nobles deserve to pay,” Selen exclaimed.
“Don’t tell me you encourage him in his madness!” Lissandro shouted, pointing at Louis. “You don’t know him.” This remark hit Selen in the heart.
“My madness?” Louis shouted, striding towards Lissandro.
Selen saw what was going to happen. “Enough!” he yelled, rising from his seat. His friends stopped dead. “You have no idea how much horror and debauchery I saw when I was a royal guard,” Selen raged. “I know what we are facing. Pigs, perverts, rapists, traitors, and plotters… They think they are superior, but I heard the screams of their victims. I saw them shag in front of my eyes, as if I was nothing more than another vase in the room. They have no decency, no honour. They don’t give a shit about the people! But Louis does. And we are going to help him.”
Lissandro gaped, aghast. Louis was enthralled and looked as if he was going to kiss him.
“Of course, I will help him,” Lissandro said. He turned to Louis. “We have to act wisely. We will give the people justice, Louis. But this is not your world. And you know how it failed the first time. This world is even worse. I suggest we start with comforting your positions on the high priest, and we can make invalid the lands acquisitions under Agroln’s reign. The rest will come progressively,” Lissandro said. Louis gazed at him, suspicious. “In a few days or weeks.”
“All right, I will slow down, but I won’t wait,” Louis said. “The people expect changes.”
“If we take our time to plan and organize better, we can create the society we want,” Selen said, trying to sound positive.
“And then, there is your name. You can’t be just Louis. You need a family name,” Lissandro insisted.
“Doesn’t he have one?” Selen inquired.
“Of course he has one. S…”
Louis picked an object on the desk and threw it at Lissandro. “Don’t you dare say it out loud!”
“Ouch!” Lissandro cried out as the object hit his shoulder. “Why? It suits you perfectly.”
“I want a new life and a new start,” Louis hissed.
“With the same projects? You are a living paradox in words and actions,” Lissandro snarled. “Well then, use a number or a nickname…before they find you one.”
“Considering your opinion about me, I suppose I can choose between the Bloody or the Mad.”
“Oh, stop this pettiness. I have a high opinion of you. Can’t you understand that I do it for your own good?”
“I don’t even know why I’m having this conversation,” Louis said, grabbing his head.
“You need a name. You are the king, for God’s sake,” Lissandro insisted.
“Please stop,” Selen squeaked, on the verge of crying. He hated to see his friends argue. They needed unity to face the court. He remembered he had not eaten for the day and felt nauseous. He grabbed the desk.
“I’m sorry,” Louis said. Seeing him faint, his love came to him and hugged him. His shoulders were warm. Selen held to him, burying his face against Louis’s neck. “Find me something, Lilo. But not that name.”
“I’ve found you a name,” Lissandro said kindly. “Domgeornan.”
“I like it. It fits this world. What does it mean?” Louis asked.
“It means virtuous.” Lissandro went for the door. “We will see each other this afternoon.” Selen heard the door close.
“Are you all right?” Louis asked, cupping Selen’s face.
“Yes.” Selen sat down on one of the armchairs, still feeling dizzy. “If we want to create something of our situation, we need unity.”
“I know. I don’t understand why he nags me all the time,” Louis said. He sat in the chair behind his desk, a hand against his head.
“He is trying to help you. He is also your counselor. You must take into consideration that Lissandro has seen more of life than we have.”
“Then he should know I am right and back me up instead.”
Selen searched for the most diplomatic words to make Louis understand. “Maybe he is right as well. Lissandro may have another interpretation of the same opinion. This is why you should collaborate. I have no experience myself, but I have heard such royal debates many times. Patience is a precious ally.” Louis frowned. “I said patience, not ruse,” Selen insisted.
Someone knocked on the door. Selen rose and opened it.
The servant behind the door stepped back with surprise. The maid dressed in a brown gown and apron carried a covered tray. Selen realized that she waited to step in and moved aside. The maid walked to the middle of the solar and stopped in front of the desk.
“What is it?” Louis asked.
“I…I bring you your meal, Your Majesty,” the maid answered.
“Is this how it works?” Louis asked. “I mean, does someone bring me food here every day?”
The maid was as confused as they were and stood still with the tray riveted in her hands. “Yes, Your Majesty. We bring food from the kitchen to the solar tw
o times a day, Your Majesty. More if you wish so.”
At the mention of food, Selen’s stomach rumbled. He picked the tray from her hands and placed it on the desk. He uncovered it and winced. Roasted meat chops swam in a brown, thick sauce. On platters stood blue cheese, white bread, and what looked like hare crusted pâté. Selen shared a look with Louis.
“Do you have fruits and biscuits in the kitchen?” Louis asked.
“We have everything, Your Majesty,” the maid answered.
“Could you please take back the tray and bring me something more…fresh?” Louis said.
The maid stared at Louis, gaping with incomprehension. Not even a muffled sound came out of her mouth.
“A soup? Fish? Cherries?” Louis insisted, waiting for a reaction on the maid’s face. She closed her mouth. Her eyes brightened. “The bread is fine,” Louis added.
The maid picked up the tray. “Yes, Your Majesty.” She curtsied and left the room.
“I always wondered about the transformation of the sovereigns on the royal portraits. Now, I know,” Louis said.
“It could be seen as a passive regicide.” Selen smiled.
Louis chuckled. “Henry the VIII, one of the ancient kings in our world, was so fat when he died that his servants had to wash him lying down. His body was covered with boils,” Louis said. Selen made a face. “And he had six wives.”
“Rich food, casks of wine, horny wenches in their bed, and hunting parties. That is what kings need,” Selen exclaimed, raising his fist. They laughed.
“I am sure it is what they expect of me,” Louis sighed. “A royal pig in silk.”
It made Selen chuckle. “You would become one of their peers. But don’t feel down, I would kill you before it happened.”
Louis’s face brightened. “Please do, and I promise I will do the same for you. Still, I can tell you that I won’t give them this pleasure.” His hand played nonchalantly with the lock of a box on the desk. Selen sighed and gazed through the window. His belly ached. “I will miss eating with the soldiers,” Louis said, sounding melancholic. Selen looked at him inquiringly. “Not that I miss the bawdy jokes, but a leader must know his men. How can the people like me if they don’t know me? How can I know about them and their needs if I live in a golden cage?”
Rising from Dust (Light from Aphelion Book 1) Page 40