The Children of the White Lions: Volume 02 - Prophecy (11 page)

The noblewoman was a short woman, perhaps only a few inches over five feet, with soft, blond hair cut short and held in place by a thin, golden band encircling her head. Jak guessed the duchess was in her late fifties, but could not be sure from where he sat. She hurried to her chair and sat quickly, fussing with her long, maroon dress, trying to arrange it just so. Jak got the distinct impression that the duchess found the pomp surrounding the introductions as tedious as he did. And for that reason alone, he liked her.

Duke Rholeb of the Marshlands entered next, a short and wide man with luxurious shoulder-length, gray hair. Matching the Duchess Adnil’s no-nonsense attitude, he marched straight to his chair and sat beneath the green and white pennant of his duchy. As he settled in his seat, he gave a quick nod to the Duchess Adnil. It was so slight, Jak was sure most in the room had missed it.

“Allies,” whispered Sergeant Trell.

Jak turned to stare at the soldier and found Lady Vivienne doing the same. Sergeant Trell had an incredible gift for being able to read people. If he believed the duke and duchess were allies, it was so.

Duchess Aleece of the Southlands, a stunningly beautiful woman in her late twenties, entered next. Her sleek brunette hair hung straight to the middle of her back, kept clear of her face by a blue silk headband. The dress she wore was a rich, deep Southlands blue trimmed with gold, snug above the waist but loose below, draping freely to the floor. She moved with the utmost grace, gliding silently across the marble floor.

Her gaze shot upwards as she walked, scanning the crowd in the balcony on the side of the chamber where Jak sat. For a moment, it seemed as if she were staring straight at Jak. A slight smile touched her lips.

Forgetting she was a noblewoman, let alone a duchess, Jak smiled wide, returning the grin as he would if any pretty young woman eyed him.

Ever so slightly, the duchess’ eyes shifted. Now she was staring at him. Jak’s smile turned into grimace.

“Oh, Hells.”

The smile had not been for him.

Jak’s neck and cheeks felt flushed and warm. Dropping his smile and his gaze, he stared at his shiny new leather dress boots while wondering why he had reacted in such a way. His heart belonged to another. As he stared downward, paying undue attention to the shiny bronze buckles that ran up the sides, he wondered at whom the duchess had been smiling. Whoever it was, he or she sat nearby.

The tenth and final member, Duke Kyle of the Freelands, stepped into the chamber next wearing a light blue vest over a puffy-sleeved white shirt. He was a pale man, well-fed and round, and his blue clothes combined with his white skin reminded Jak of a cloud-filled Spring sky. Once the duke took his seat, the herald instructed the crowd to return to their seats. With that, the man exited the chamber, closing the door as he left.

Jak was immensely relieved the proceedings were finally starting.

With a short, firm nod of his head, Duke Kyle cleared his throat before calling, “Thank you for coming today!” Amazingly, his voice carried through the cavernous room. “I see that we have higher attendance than normal and as I do not like to shout, I ask you to remain quiet!”

The duke scanned the balcony as he spoke.

“I expect most of you are here due to the reports that we would have some very important members attending. For once, it seems the rumormongers have earned their trade.” Looking to his left, he said, “I would like to formally welcome Duke Rholeb, Duchess Aleece—“ he turned right “—and Duchess Adnil to Freehaven and today’s council. Thank you for coming.”

Duke Kyle paused as the three leaders of the Duchies acknowledged his greeting with respectful nods and smiles.

“As one who attends every meeting, I would like to offer my assistance to any of you should you have questions regarding procedure or the like.”

A soft, intense whisper from Jak’s right caught him off guard.

“Of course you attend every meeting. You live in the blasted city, you pompous fool.”

As one, Zecus, Jak and Sergeant Trell turned to stare at Lady Vivienne. If she felt their stares, she did not acknowledge them.

Jak exchanged a quick look with the sergeant, raising a lone eyebrow, and stared back to the table below just as Duke Kyle resumed speaking.

“Before we hear this turn’s petitions, there is one issue outstanding from our last meeting. Baroness Vivienne of Argolles, the representative from the Southlands, motioned to delay a response to one particular petition.”

Again, Jak and Zecus turned to peer at Lady Vivienne. She, in turn, continued to ignore their stares. Broedi had not been jesting when he said the Shadow Manes had powerful members. Lady Vivienne apparently sat on the First Council. Sergeant Trell kept his eyes forward, showing no reaction to the revelation which Jak assumed meant the soldier already knew. He eyed the sergeant, both impressed by the man’s ability to keep such wondrous information a secret and perturbed that he had done so.

Jak’s curiosity was cut short as Duke Kyle’s booming voice filled the chamber again.

“Procedure dictates that the member who motioned for delay must call for resumption. Duchess Aleece, as the baroness is your minister, the decision to resume the petition is yours to make. Do you wish to do so?”

In a clear, mellow tone that easily cut through the large room, Duchess Aleece responded, “I do.”

Jak suddenly made sense of the duchess’ earlier smile. It was directed at the baroness.

“So be it,” called Duke Kyle. “Please bring the petitioners in.”

At the opposite end of the chamber—to Jak’s far right—two attendants opened a set of double oaken doors, loosing a ragged, metal clatter that resonated through the room. Two dark-skinned men strode into the room, dressed in tan shirts and breeches with braided leather sandals strapped to their feet. One of the men was tall and thin, walking a step ahead of his companion, a shorter, fatter man. Both individuals had close-cropped, black beards and hair with thick, white bands wrapped around their heads. Jak marked them immediately as Borderlanders.

Zecus drew in a sharp breath and hissed, “Bless the Gods.”

The intensity of his friend’s reaction caused Jak to turn and stare at Zecus. The young man’s eyes were as wide as gold ducats and locked on the men walking across the marble floor below.

Alarmed, Jak whispered, “Zecus? What’s—”

A strong hand tightly gripped his right leg, causing Jak to wince sharply and halt his question. Looking down to his right knee, he found Sergeant Trell’s white-knuckled left hand grasping him. He glanced up to the sergeant’s face and found the soldier’s intense gaze on his face. He gave a quick, sharp shake of his head and spoke in a low, hushed tone.

“Let things play out. Remain quiet.”

Lady Vivienne was staring hard at him as well, her sharp green eyes silently pleading he comply. Had the baroness alone asked, Jak would have demanded to know what was going on right now. Yet as the request had come from Sergeant Trell, he swallowed his question and nodded.

Sergeant Trell released his leg and Jak stole a quick look back at Zecus. His friend was still staring wide-eyed at the pair of Borderlanders on the chamber floor. Frowning, Jak looked down as well.

The men stopped twenty paces from the council table and waited in silence. The thin man appeared calm and relaxed considering the situation while the larger man was actively bouncing on the balls of feet.

Duke Kyle leaned forward and called, “Please state your names for the record, citizens.”

The taller man bowed slightly, and said, “My name is Joshmuel Alsher and he is Boah Rasus. We are of the village Drysa. My pleasure is to meet you in peace today, great Lord.”

Now Jak’s eyes went wide. He whipped his head to his left to gape at an unresponsive Zecus.

“That’s your—”

Again, Jak felt Sergeant Trell’s hand grip his leg, thrice as strong this time. Jak winced and shut his mouth. The sergeant wanted him to remain quiet.

Turning to stare at the soldier, Jak tried to make sense of things. If Lady Vivienne had been the one to postpone this petition, she had known about Joshmuel for well over a full turn. And if Lady Vivienne knew, then so did Broedi, as did Sergeant Trell.

Jak’s eyes narrowed as he glared to his right. Sergeant Trell should have told them that Zecus’ own father had been sitting in Freehaven for a full turn.

Sergeant Trell stared back, an expression of true regret on his face. He even appeared slightly ashamed. Jak shook his head and gave a disappointed sigh. He was getting tired of all the secrets everyone around him was keeping.

Duke Kyle called out, “And for the record, as well as the benefit of those that were not here last turn, Joshmuel Alsher of Drysa, can you please restate your petition for the council?”

Joshmuel bowed, saying, “Yes, great Lord.” He took a breath, composing himself, and then began speaking, his voice loud, clear, and touched with the same strange accent that Zecus himself exhibited.

“For generations upon generations, we on the western edge of the Borderlands have lived with the constant threat that oligurts, mongrels, and razorfiends might raid our lands and homes. Years would pass without any sign of the Sudashians, but eventually some chieftain or pack leader would crave glory and conquest and raid the duchy. Villages burned, people died, and the duke would respond, sending the Dust Men forth to repel the invaders.”

From the measured and deliberate way he spoke, it was apparent this was a rehearsed speech.

“Our ancestors would honor the dead by rebuilding the villages, refusing to allow the tribes of Sudash to chase us from our lands. Of course, the raiders would come again. So, we would rebuild. And the raiders would come again. Such is the life of a Borderlander.”

Joshmuel paused and drew a long breath.

“A year ago, however, the cycle changed. Men, women, and families who lived closer to the border than we—” he indicated himself and Boah “—began to come east. Raiders had come again. Only now, there were thousands of oligurts, mongrels, razorfiends, and even men all banded together. They fought as one.” He paused and eyed the table of nobles. “My Lords and Ladies, such cooperation is unheard of. Sudashian infighting has been the one thing that has kept us in the west safe. If the fell races unite, the Borderlands fall.”

Jak pulled his eyes away from Joshmuel and glanced at Lord Tilas, the Borderlands’ representative. The man sat as still as a carved marble statue.

Joshmuel continued his tale, saying clearly, “There has been almost no pushback from our soldiers. The Dust Men are absent. People have been left to defend their homes without the help of the duke’s army. Chaos rules the west.”

Jak bit his lip. Joshmuel’s choice of words was more accurate than he knew.

“So, great Lords and Ladies, Boah and I traveled to Freehaven, hoping to petition the First Council to lend aid to the Borderlands.” He paused again, spared a quick glance at his compatriot—who nodded firmly—and then added, somewhat reluctantly, “In addition to our previous request, we now also ask the council to seek answers to the poor response by the Dust Men.” Joshmuel bowed at the waist. “That is all, great Lord.”

Joshmuel’s last word had barely tumbled from his lips when the Borderlands’ baron sat forward, looked in Duke Kyle’s direction, and asked, “My Lord, may I speak?” After a curt nod from the duke, Lord Tilas shifted his gaze on the pair of men before the council.

“As I said last turn when these…
men
—” the word was said with an audible sneer “—came before us, I have no idea about what they speak. There are no ‘invaders’ from Sudash marching through the Borderlands. I again contend that these men are mad.”

The baron’s words stunned Jak. Shooting a questioning look to his left, Jak found Zecus equally astonished, if not more so. Zecus had seen the invasion firsthand, having been captured by oligurts and razorfiends deep within Borderland territory.

From beneath the green and white banner of the Marshlands, Duke Rholeb spoke up.

“Baron Tilas, I respectfully disagree with your ‘assessment’ of the situation.”

While the duke’s tone was polite on its surface, an undercurrent of strained fury bubbled beneath it.

Turning to face the Marshlands’ sovereign, Lord Tilas said, “I’m sorry you feel as such, my Lord, but I would know the affairs of the Borderlands infinitely better than you, would I not? I assure you, there is no danger from Sudash.”

The baron’s disrespectful tone prompted a low, whispered buzz to ripple through the balcony.

Glaring at Lord Tilas, Duke Rholeb growled, “I have nineteen thousand Borderlands’ refugees sitting outside of my capital, begging for food, that say otherwise, Tilas!”

Lord Tilas sat back in his chair and said with brazen smugness, “Might they not be your own citizens? Perhaps they finally gave up trying to survive in that swampland you call a duchy and have decided to simply beg for handouts instead.”

The blatant, open affront triggered more mumbles of disapproval amongst the crowd. Jak knew little about expected etiquette between nobles, but he was quite confident that it was bad form for a baron to insult one of the ten sovereigns publicly.

Duke Rholeb brought his left hand down hard atop the wooden table, sending a sharp crack that echoed through the chamber.

“Blast you, Tilas! What in the Nine Hells is going on?!”

“Gentlemen!” exclaimed Duke Kyle. “Please! Try to keep a sense of decorum here!”

Duke Rholeb continued to stare daggers at a grinning, haughty Lord Tilas.

After a moment, Duke Kyle turned to the Marshlander and said, “Now, Rholeb—if Lord Tilas says there is no trouble, we are honor-bound to believe him. He is Duke Vanson’s representative and speaks for him.”

With an upraised hand, the Great Lakes member of the council, Lord Treswell, said timidly, “My Lord, if I may add something?”

Jak was especially curious to hear what Duke Everett’s representative had to say.

Once Duke Kyle nodded, Lord Treswell said, “Might I point out that were there any such invasion, Duke Vanson would have surely requested aid of Duke Everett. However, to date, no such requests have been made.”