“No – well, yes. But mostly that I could be so happy.”
“Do you like the standard?” She asked again.
“Yes.” He almost included the caveat 'because you made it' but stopped himself in time. “I do like it. It's the second best gift that's been given me this night. Thank you.”
She leaned back and looked up into his eyes. “Hilgarn offered to bear it for you – well, many men offered to bear it, but I chose him.”
He frowned back at her as he considered this, and then his frown faded and he nodded. “Hilgarn – that's fine. When did you do all this?”
“While you were busy with other things.”
Gently, he picked her up again and held her close. “You are an amazing woman,” he said. Thinking back on the somber conversation of the previous night, he added quietly, “and I will always love you.”
4.
Rahm Imrid stood alone at the railing, gazing down over the lush, rumpled green of Lower Elam. His spirits were high, his soul filled with satisfaction. There was a change occurring in the world, a ripening of opportunity; he felt it. His chosen destiny, that which he had striven so long and so diligently to bring to fruition, was about to mature.
As a young man, he had considered it a baleful curse that had made him the younger of two sons. Waren, eight years his elder, had never been cruel to him, nor had he used his superior station to impede Rahm's mobility in society in any way. In fact, his brother, heir to the throne of Elam, had been an unusually considerate individual, never lording his status over that of others, including his younger brother. Upon ascending the throne, he had continued his father's benevolent policies, guaranteeing freedom of movement and commerce throughout the land, and allowing the Great Houses a measure of autonomy, only insisting upon their obedience to writ that dealt with Elam's general welfare and security.
Elder brother Waren, Rahm had come to understand, was an extraordinarily weak man. For he was soft in the heart, which suggested a certain softness of character as well, and a weakness of intellect. Waren lacked the essential ability to understand the natural order of social classes. High Prince Waren seemed to believe that greatness in a prince was properly manifested in policies which allowed everyone, even the lowest of citizens, the chance to attain whatever was in their power and ability to rightfully attain.
Such policies were foolishness, of course. Rahm saw the world as it really was, a pyramidal hierarchy of strength and talent. And the more capable the individual, the more right that individual possessed to order for his own benefit the lives of those beneath him. People, in general, were little more than cogs in the Great Wheel, and existed only so that the truly talented in the ranks above them could achieve their full measure of greatness.
Over time, Rahm began to view his “curse” as the younger brother in a rather more beneficent light. In truth, fate had placed him in exactly the right spot.
Being the generally ignored younger sibling allowed him to work his will in the shadows, something at which, over time, he became remarkably adept. He became a student of others, especially of those with influence. He learned their strengths and how those strengths might be ameliorated; he discerned their weaknesses and discovered the means by which they could be exploited. Unseen, scarcely noticed, he was able to undermine the works of his brother in ways that were both untraceable and irreparable.
Perhaps most importantly, he found others lurking in those shadows, people like him with appetites for power and prestige. Being stronger, he bent those others to his will where he could. Others, with schemes of their own which did not mesh with his plans, especially those that might become impediments to his ambition, he removed – or had them removed – from the necessity of enduring a dissatisfying life.
One of those that fell a bit in between either of these categories was a man named Hurack Soroba, First Councilor to the High Prince.
Hurack was the eldest son of the House of Soroba, rulers of Elam's far southeastern province, a land of rich farmland fronting the ocean but boasting no really good harbors where centers of commerce might have sprung up, such as there were at Eremand, in the province of Forina, further west. The House was secure and well-off, but denied the existence of larger cities and the subsequent levies that would derive from trade between such centers of population, it was not rich, and consequently its influence was limited in circles of political power.
Hurack, however, possessed a remarkably nimble mind, and his achievements at the Academy had brought him to the attention of the throne while he was still very young. After being ensconced at the palace, he proved so adept at resolving various thorny issues that his duties were continually expanded until finally he came to the attention of Waren himself. In less than a decade the brilliant son of Soroba had gone from graduating at the top of his class at the academy to holding the office of First Councilor.
Satiation, however, did not come even with such a rapid rise. He wanted more.
Gaining a taste of power, and coming to the understanding that his mental prowess was unmatched, at least in any with whom he came daily into contact, including the man that sat the throne, only made him hungrier. So began a careful stealthy descent into the shadow world of intrigue, and a search for a means to usurp the power that should rightfully be entrusted to one of such provably superior ability.
It was there, in the shadows, that he met his equal.
It could be argued that while Hurack Soroba's intellect soared into nether reaches of thought that Rahm could only view from the borders of such regions, the talents of the younger son of the High Prince were unmatched, even by Soroba, in two areas. One was an ability to recognize any exploitable weakness in others, including the formidable Hurack Soroba. The other was a complete lack of the restraints of conscience.
These two men began a systematic removal of anyone that might hinder their evolving plans to usurp power, replacing them with those over whom they had influence by virtue of like-mindedness, or by knowledge of secret things that those others needed to keep hidden from the public at large.
It was when Soroba went on a commission from the throne to meet with the unknown “lord of the world” in the north that things began to move quickly, though perhaps not along the exact track that Rahm had foreseen.
Soroba had come back a changed man.
At first the alteration in him was subtle but as Soroba made repeated trips into the north it became evident that he was developing a peculiar subservience to the unknown distant prince. While Rahm found this alteration in his accomplice troubling, it nevertheless provided him with a new source of dark, sinister, but eminently usable knowledge. That source knew how to accomplish things that Rahm wished for but could not bring to pass except by risking peril to himself. There was a cost for the acquisition and use of this knowledge of course, but it was one that he was willing to pay.
And so while Rahm was in Aniza, a neighboring state to the northwest, on ostensibly personal business, Soroba poisoned the palace water supply, killing the entire First Family, with the exception of the heir apparent, who was away on an extended stay in Vergon. Soroba himself also suffered from the event, nearly succumbing, but of course he secretly possessed the antidote and though seriously endangered did not die.
Rahm had thought to remove Soroba while he was vulnerable, and hurried back from Aniza with deadly intent concerning his fellow collaborator, but the palace had teemed with investigators and surgeons, blunting his efforts. And then Soroba, while still recovering, had slipped away. Before Rahm could discover him, he had gone northward beyond the gates and out of reach. Shortly after, Aniza had been ravaged by the prince of the north. Rahm, just having ascended the throne upon his brother's untimely death had refused to engage in preventing the assault upon an ally on the grounds that Elam was in disarray and required all his attention.
Now, looking out over the land whose governorship he had gained with the villainous aid of Soroba and his mysterious lord, he grimaced with chagrin that h
e had not been able to destroy his former compatriot, the man that had become an ever present and troubling pebble in the heel of the High Prince's shoe. Rahm's complicity in the dreadful treatment of Aniza cost him terribly. The demands of Soroba's northern lord were never satisfied. Instead, they grew inexorably like the current of a river in the spring when the sun begins to warm the high, snowy places. And though it was never overtly stated, there was also the constant threat of exposure.
Rahm meant to blunt that ruinous tide and execute change. There were more reasons than just the rumor of barbarians that he had sent fifteen thousand men north. For one thing, he wanted to know if Soroba's tale of his master’s loss of troops at the hands of barbarians contained any truth. If so, then he would do what he could to encourage further conflict with the barbarians, that those two combatants might begin to reduce each other. But there was a more immediate reason that he wanted fifteen thousand men that answered only to him to become ensconced in the northern half of Elam.
Basura was there.
The House of Basura, which had recently refused to participate any further in the conscription of young women, had also deliberately separated its soldiers from the rest of Elam's army and called them home, in defiance of the High Prince.
Before Rahm, the Great Houses had always raised their own troops, quartered and supplied them. Only in times of national crisis could they be called into the service of the throne. Rahm had set aside that time-honored tradition and instituted a policy he named the “Great Community” whereby troops from the various Great Houses would no longer be segregated but would be quartered throughout the land, dressed in common uniforms and paid not by the Houses themselves but by the throne. Further, the funds for financing the scheme would be raised in the forms of levies and taxes on the commerce of the Great Houses themselves.
There had been resistance to this program of course, especially from Cinnabar and Basura, and from a smattering of the smaller Houses but Rahm had pushed the issue hard and for a time they had all gone along. But then Heglund Basura had resigned his position as High Chancellor and gone home, recalling his son, Amund, from his position as Dean of the Academy. Heglund had refused to attend further meetings of the council. Shortly after, the House of Basura had also refused any further participation in the “gifting” of young women to Rahm's ally in the north and had called all of its men in uniform home.
The House of Cinnabar had almost immediately followed suit. Though very rich and nearly as large as Basura, Cinnabar was also isolated in the southwest, surrounded by other Houses loyal to Rahm or at the least neutral. It was therefore in a much weaker position than Basura and could be more easily managed if necessary.
From the beginning, however, of what was as yet no more than a political rebellion the leadership for the opposition had come from the House of Basura. If Rahm hoped to bring Cinnabar and other resistant Great Houses to heel without open war, Basura must be subdued or reduced – or if necessary, crushed as an example to the others.
Hence the fifteen thousand men that had gone north to investigate the “barbarian” threat. When that investigation was concluded, that particular army would then be positioned between Basura and the Gates. Rahm harbored a hope that the tenseness of the situation would either pull Heglund Basura back into compliance with the wishes of the throne, or push him further, beyond mere belligerence and into open defiance, prompting action on the part of the Great House that the throne could interpret as treason. To that end, there were another ten thousand men being readied to march north, if necessary. If the army already in place could not incite the desired result, the High Prince of Elam intended to camp this new force upon Heglund Basura's doorstep.
He had never wanted war of any kind, civil or foreign, because of the attendant risks to himself. Rahm preferred to increase his power and control through the much safer methods of subterfuge, flattery, deception, and when necessary, assassination.
And as far as Manon the Grim, the so-called “lord of the world” in the far north was concerned; by all reports he was very old, even ancient. Soroba once referred to his master as not just “lord of the world” but the “master of time” as well, insisting that he’d been alive since the beginning of the world. Though his eyes had never beheld the supposed “god”, Rahm Imrid instinctively knew that such assertions were but propaganda meant to elevate and sustain position and authority. Everyone died, and though for the moment he did not believe it worth the risk to contend with his northern ally, time was doubtlessly on Elam’s side. Manon could not last forever. Heretofore, the High Prince had always intended to wait him out.
Two recent events, however, had caused his thinking on the matter of war to evolve.
The first was Soroba’s tale of a defeat of arms of Manon’s forces by “barbarians”. This suggested to Rahm that Manon’s hold over his domain might already be weakening. If mere barbarians could defeat the same army that had once so easily ravaged Aniza, something had changed in the northern principality, rendering Manon less formidable than before. And if the eastern barbarians continued to press him, then Elam would be granted even more latitude to act however Rahm Imrid wished.
The second event was the abrupt and completely unacceptable behavior of the House of Basura. If not dealt with quickly and harshly, such behavior would encourage others of the Great Houses to follow suit. Rahm could not allow it, for with the evolution in his thinking about war there had also been an enlargement of his personal ambitions.
He intended to end the historic autonomy of the Great Houses and consolidate power in the throne at Farenaire. If war was necessary to bring these ambitions to fruition; then war it would be.
One way or another, Rahm meant to bring all of Elam into submission.
Then he could turn his attention to the world at large.
5.
Aram and Thaniel moved westward along the dirt road that ran down through the valley of the dry lake below Burning Mountain. Behind them more than eleven thousand men, four abreast, marched in a long column, raising a massive cloud of dust that hung in the air, alerting anyone watching for miles around that something substantial was afoot.
Aram was dressed in his black armor, including the horned helmet with the eye guard in the up position to facilitate sight as he rode at the head of the column. He wore the armor from the mountain beneath his metal armor except for the hood which was folded through his sword belt. Ahead of him, waiting beyond the gap between the hills that pinched off the western end of the valley, and gathered upon the rolling green grass of the Land Beyond the Gates, was a formidable contingent of the army of Elam.
He was riding toward a confrontation which he hadn't sought and did not desire but that had become necessary. The mightiest nation on earth had sent forth a portion of its power to seek out and confront the “barbarians” that were rumored to dwell in the wilds beyond its eastern and northeastern borders. Though Aram was convinced that an alliance with Elam was extremely unlikely, if not utterly impossible, he nonetheless had thought that the great power to the southwest would welcome the possibility of a respite from the grievous tribute demanded of it by the grim lord. To that end, he had hoped that Elam would at least stand aside and not threaten his rear or his lines of supply while he maneuvered against Manon.
But even that frail hope had faded. As Joktan had stated, any prince that visited such iniquitous policies upon his own people would not think of befriending or aiding any other power that stood in opposition to those policies. Now, whether at the behest of the grim lord, or on his own, the ruler of Elam had taken what appeared to be a belligerent interest in Aram and his people.
When he came to the point where the dirt track ended at its junction with the ancient, stone-paved road where that ancient road turned away from the valley and went through the hills toward Stell, he brought Thaniel to a halt and looked back toward the southeast along it. He could see along it all the way until it angled up to the left and out of sight as it ascended into the h
ills. For the extent of that distance, it lay empty under the midday sun.
There was no need for caution, nor was that what prompted his searching gaze – Alvern and Kipwing were both in the sky above and every hawk in the region had been placed on alert for the army's ten-day trek across the plains and down the valley. Aram would know of any potential threat from any quarter long before that threat could become an imminent danger.
Aram looked toward the southeast because he would have preferred to be down there with this army, beyond those hills and along that road as it negotiated the banks of the River Stell. He preferred that this army spend its effort making the last remnant of Ka'en's homeland free while destroying any of the grim lord's servants yet residing in the countryside round about. But it was not to be, at least for the foreseeable future. Much of Aram's future plans depended upon Elam's intentions toward him.
Tamping down his frustration, he turned away and spoke to Thaniel. The horse surged forward and they continued on toward the west.
Behind Aram and to the right, Hilgarn the young gatekeeper rode a horse named Balten. In his right hand, anchored to a loop in the saddle, Hilgarn carried a staff topped with the large standard of a golden horse's head on a field of deep red that Ka'en had surprised him with twelve days earlier.
Thinking back on that evening and its unexpected pleasantness, he smiled to himself and glanced back for a moment at the red and gold flag snapping lightly in the breeze.
Three other standards fluttered at the front of the column behind him. Near Hilgarn, but slightly in back of him, Edwar rode a rangy gray horse named Dassock. Just behind him, a young soldier, also mounted, bore the standard of Lamont – a silver triangle in a field of purple. Immediately behind him marched the host of that land. After the Lamontans came Wallensia's small band of barely a thousand, led by Donnick, while Findaen rode up at the front just behind Aram. Jonwood came behind Findaen, mounted on Colrad. The fierce, small man had been given the honor of bearing Wallensia's colors, a field of green severed by a broad band of blue running down its center. About halfway down the green of that flag, another smaller band of blue bisected the first from the left, symbolizing the river Broad and the river Stell watering the fertile prairie.
Kelven's Riddle Book Four Page 3