Travis Starnes
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In the Shadow of Lions - Chapter 21
🕑 Added 2024-04-17 15:00:01 +0000 UTCValemonde, Lynese
Isolde Montborne walked into her father’s office, her head held high despite the tension she could feel from the guards outside the lavishly carved doors, who were always a good barometer of how her father was feeling at that moment.
As was often the case when she was called before him, her father sat behind his ornate desk, his rotund frame sinking into the plush velvet of his chair. He was angry at her. She could plainly see that from the way his eyes followed her as she made her way across the wide expanse of floor to stop in front of him, his near permanent scowl somehow etched even deeper than normal.
“You summoned me, Father?” Isolde asked, keeping her voice steady and clear, to make sure he knew she wasn’t afraid of him.
She took it a step further, clasping her hands before her, the picture of composed elegance in her flowing gown of emerald silk.
“I certainly did,” her father said, fixing her with a piercing stare.
“You’ve been busy, haven’t you? Warning the Sidorians about our plans. Do you have any idea the damage you could have caused? Do you deny your treachery?”
“I deny nothing. I know exactly what I did. I put a stop to your monstrous scheme.”
“Monstrous?” Baudric scoffed. “This is war, idiot child. Infecting the enemy with the elder curse would have crippled their army, brought them to their knees. And you nearly ruined it all with your meddling.”
“It was an act of pure evil. Spreading a plague, using our own people as carriers? Have you no conscience? What if there was a true outbreak, here on our soil. How many thousands would you condemn to death?”
Baudric slammed his fist on the desk, causing Isolde to flinch despite herself.
“As many as I have to, damn you. I am trying to win a war! Sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good.”
“The greater good? Tell that to the soldiers lying in the hospital, their bodies ravaged by the curse. Tell that to their families who will have to watch them wither away.”
“Soldiers die in war, Isolde. It is an unfortunate reality. I would think you of all people would understand that, given your penchant for playing nursemaid in the infirmary.”
“You insolent girl! I am the emperor and I will not be lectured by my own daughter. Especially one who commits treason by sending warnings to our enemy! People occupying our land!”
“It’s not treason to stop an atrocity. I did what I believe was right. What was necessary.”
“It’s treason to spy for Sidorian scum. To snoop around like the little mouse you are, looking for secrets you can reveal. How did you even learn what was happening?”
“I’m not spying for anyone. You yourself said I spend too much time in the hospitals, helping the disciples administer to the sick. I learned about it from the victims themselves. From our own loyal soldiers. They told me how you had them take infected, transport them all the way from Varencia, and leave them in one of our own villages, to spread the sickness to everyone there.”
“I should have you hanged for this.”
“Then do it, Father. Hang me for the crime of defending our people from your cruelty. See how well that plays out for you.”
“You dare threaten me?” Baudric growled, rising from his chair.
It’s not a threat, it’s a warning,” Isolde replied evenly. “The people are already tired of this endless war, the lives lost, the suffering inflicted. There has been talk of unrest in the countryside. If I’ve heard of it, so have you. How do you think they will react when they learn their beloved princess was executed for trying to protect them?”
“What?”
You underestimate my standing among the people, Father. They know me, they trust me. I’ve spent countless hours among them, caring for the sick, comforting the grieving, listening to their fears and hopes. All they know of you is when you send men to take their sons for the armies, sons who far too often never return home. If you were to execute me, your own daughter, for trying to protect our people, how would they react? Would they see a just king upholding the law, or a tyrant lashing out at those who dare to question him?”
“You delude yourself.”
“Do I? Send your thugs around, have them listen to what the people are really saying. I think they are tired, Father. Tired of war, of suffering, of loss. They are desperate for a leader who cares for their well-being, who values their lives over political gains. If you’re so certain that the people will back you, no matter what, then sacrifice me. See what happens to your empire then!”
Baudric jabbed a meaty finger at his daughter and said, “You forget yourself, daughter. I am the Emperor of Lynese. My word is law. You dare threaten me?”
“I threaten you with nothing. I only tell you the truth, unlike the yes men you surround yourself with. Is the mighty emperor too afraid to hear what his people really think of him?”
“Enough!” Baudric roared, slamming his hand on the desk again. “I will not stand here and be lectured by an insolent child. I have tolerated your defiance thus far because you are my daughter, but even my patience has limits.”
“Then do what you must, Father,” she said, glaring back at him with equal intensity.
“Get out,” Baudric seethed, his voice trembling with fury. “Get out of my sight before I do something we will both regret. Go back to your hospital and let this be the last time I hear your name from my ministers. If you interfere again, you will regret it.”
Isolde curtsied, giving him a small, defiant smile.
“As you wish, Your Majesty. But remember my words. The people are watching.”
With that, she turned and left the room, her head held high and her pace even. The guards stepped aside hastily as she passed, trying hard to not look at her or her father.
As the doors closed behind her, Isolde let out a shaky breath, her legs going suddenly wobbly as the adrenaline from the confrontation wore off. She knew she had just crossed a dangerous line. Her father’s temper was legendary, and she had openly defied him, threatened him even.
But she could not bring herself to regret what she did. The lives of her people were at stake. She could not stand by and watch as they were sacrificed for her father’s ambition.
***
Starhaven, Sidor
King Serwyn glared at Edmund from behind his massive carved desk, his pale blue eyes blazing with anger. The young king's jaw clenched as he slammed his fist on the polished surface.
"You told me the rebels had been nearly decimated! That they were pushed back to the Shatterstone Mountains!" Serwyn shouted. "And now I hear reports of a whole series of new attacks in the heart of your duchy!"
Edmund stood rigidly before his nephew, his face an impassive mask hiding his frustration. He had worked tirelessly these past weeks to repair their relationship and regain influence over the boy. The idea that all his careful maneuvering could be undone by a handful of rebels killing a few bailiffs, which wasn't exactly what he'd call a 'series of attacks,' was galling.
"Your Grace, I assure you I had reliable information that--" Edmund began, but Serwyn cut him off with a sharp gesture.
"Reliable? Ha! Your 'reliable' information has proven to be nothing but horse shit! I have lords and ladies demanding protection at court. Demanding justice. What am I to tell them? That my own uncle, the mighty duke of Kingsheart, had 'reliable reports'?"
"No, you tell them that the kingdom won't stand for rebellion and is taking the matter seriously. That's what we face here, Serwyn. Rebellion. Not upheaval or unrest. This is what we should be concerned about... not the fears of a few court nobles. These rebels were nothing more than a ragtag band of peasants a few months ago. Poorly armed, poorly trained, and with no real leadership to speak of. Suddenly, they have recovered the losses they suffered in the Lindenwood and rearmed themselves. Someone is supporting them, someone with resources and a vested interest in seeing your rule challenged. This is what concerns me. Not the rebels, but the people who must be behind them."
"And who exactly do you suspect, uncle? Surely not the Lynese, they have their hands full with our armies at their doorstep."
"No, not the Lynese," Edmund agreed. "I believe we must look closer to home. To the very lords and ladies now crying out for protection and justice."
"The barons? I thought that the goal of the edicts was to undermine their power, bleed them of gold and wealth, and sap their influence. I believe that is how you put it to me. Now you're telling me that, somehow, instead of struggling with their angered subjects, they have the resources to fund a rebellion to the crown in secret?"
"My King, as I counseled you when we first discussed these measures, the process of consolidating power is not a simple or swift one. The barons have long enjoyed their privileges and influence. Did you truly believe they would surrender them without a fight?"
"Then perhaps it's time we stopped playing games and simply arrested the lot of them. Or are you going to once again tell me 'that's not an option.'"
"If only politics were so simple, Your Grace," Edmund said, splaying his hands out in an apologetic gesture. "The barons are not a monolith. Some may indeed be working against you, but others remain loyal. To move against them all would be to risk alienating even those who support you."
"Then what do you suggest, uncle? That we do nothing while these rebels eat away at my kingdom, piece by piece?"
"Of course not. I simply suggest that we must be strategic. We need to identify the specific individuals responsible for supporting the rebellion. Once we have proof of their treachery, we can move against them without risking the ire of the entire nobility."
"And how, exactly, do you propose we gather this proof?"
"I think we should target their leaders. If Sir Colm could manage to take his force and capture one or two, we could bring them in for questioning."
"And hope they just hand you the names of the nobles assisting them?"
"Our interrogators are quiet... thorough. We will find out everything they know about who's been supporting them, supplying them. Once we have names, once we have proof, we can move against the barons involved without fear of political repercussions. We make their treachery public, attain them for treason, take their lands and put their families to the block or in bondage. Not only will it end the support of this rebellion, killing it in the cradle, but it will serve as a lesson to the other barons about the cost of standing up to the crown. Perhaps we add the names of a few more barons. Ones less popular with their fellows who've proven less amenable to working with the crown than we'd like. We could then give their lands to men more loyal to you, strengthening your rule and putting their coffers in your treasury. It is a win-win scenario."
"Assuming you manage to capture the leaders," Serwyn said, although much of the anger had seeped from his voice. "Fine. Send out Sir Colm, and make sure he knows how critical this is. I do not want this to drag out through the winter, when we will lose much of the guard we still have. Make sure he knows I am placing my faith in him, and the cost if he should fail, me."
Edmund had him. He could see the scene play out in front of his nephew's eyes, imagining who he'd be able to remove from their holding and who he would put in their place. His concerns were much different. While it would be nice to get rid of barons who'd proven difficult to control, the key really was to deal with whoever was funding these people. Until that was cut off, there was no way they'd be able to stop this. Not with so much of their forces still in Lynese and winter on its way.
"Of course, your grace," Edmund said, bowing.
***
Central Kingsheart, Sidor
The noise level in the barn was louder than anyone there should have been comfortable with. They were in an abandoned village that had been left to rot for several years, but Tom still worried about the groups of kingsmen scouring the countryside looking for them.
It’s one of the reasons why he called this meeting. Their numbers were growing, which was good, but they were now becoming a large enough target that they couldn’t hide easily. It was one of the numerous things they needed to deal with, and getting the men assembled here caught would end the rebellion here and now.
Not that he begrudged them their excitement. They all thought it was over after the calamity in The Lindenwood, and it almost had been. The fact that they’d not only rebounded, but now had more men than ever, was a miracle. And spoke to how bad things were in the kingdom as a whole.
Tom raised his hands, calling for quiet. Slowly, the din subsided as all eyes turned to him. He cleared his throat before speaking, his voice carrying across the barn.
“My friends, you have all done excellent work. Our group has grown beyond what any of us could have imagined when we first set out on this path. But with this growth comes new challenges. We now find ourselves at a dangerous crossroads. We are too large to remain hidden, striking when we wish, yet too small to take on the king’s forces directly.”
“What are you suggesting, Tom? That we give up?”
“No, not at all,” Tom replied, shaking his head. “What I’m suggesting is that we adapt. We need to break apart, operate in smaller groups as we continue to grow.”
“But won’t that just make us more vulnerable? Easier for them to pick us off one by one?” Another man asked.
“Yes, it’s a risk,” Tom said. “But a risk that’s no different than the one we were all under when we started this, or even after the losses we suffered in The Lindenwood. More importantly, it’s a necessary risk. What we need is more people. To get them, we need to spread our message further, and to do that effectively, we need to split up.”
“We can’t pull back now, Tom. Not after all we’ve achieved. The king has increased his attacks on the villages, many being accused of helping us. If we decrease the pressure, split up our forces, we’ll lose the momentum we’ve gained,” Fulk said.
The rest of the men murmured their agreement. They’d all seen the last few villages they’d passed through, where the people had tried to stand up for themselves, only to have their homes burned and families killed. It was heartbreaking, and made each of them want revenge badly enough to taste it.
“I agree, which is all the more a reason we need to split up. Right now, we can only help villages one at a time, while the rest go unassisted. In smaller groups, we’ll be able to get more help to the people, and cover a wider range. Maybe even get further north, away from the lowlands and up past Twin Lake and the northern forests. The king is taking from them as much as he is the people here. And they have no one coming to their aid. Splitting up will change that, and allow us to do what we really need to do. Which is grow into an actual army, and the king’s playing right into our hands.”
“How?” someone asked.
“With every village he ravages, with every family he steals from, he creates more people like us. People left with nothing else to lose. If we are there, if we show these people another way, they will join our cause.”
“And then what?” Another man asked. “We’ll still be outnumbered, outmatched.”
“For now, yes. But as our numbers grow, so will our strength. When we’re big enough, we can take the fight directly to the king. If we play this right, we can do it right when his armies are the smallest and most vulnerable.”
There was a ripple of uneasiness in the gathering, the men looking to one another, but none wanting to say what was bothering them directly.
“I know what you’re all thinking. You want to know if it’s true, the rumors you’ve heard,” Tom said, looking at each of the men, one at a time. “It is. Our ultimate goal is to march on Starhaven itself.”
He could almost hear the news hit the men, some looking determined by the confirmation, while others looked almost afraid.
“A kingdom cannot exist on rotten foundations. If these policies, these edicts stay in place, the base that holds Sidor aloft, its people, will be no more,” Tom continued. “The king must remove these laws before our very way of life ends, and we all know there is only one way to get him to end them - we have to make him. We have to show him that he can’t keep taking from the people without consequences.”
“But how?” a man near the back called out, his voice tinged with doubt. “How can we possibly take on the king’s army?”
“We have a window. Most of the sworn men in the kingdom are in Lynese, and more will have to travel south from Maw season. Yes, it’s still a challenge, which is why, right now, we need to focus on growing our numbers and helping the villages that are being robbed by the crown. We need to show them that they’re not alone, that there are those willing to fight for them. The king has made a mistake, tightening his grip with each loss. It’s going to force more people into our ranks. There are more of us than them, and it’s time we show them that.”
Tom could see that struck home. Every man here had a tale of some wrong committed in the name of the crown, and had all seen the more recent atrocities committed in the new king’s name.
“I’ve been in talks with our benefactors. They’ve agreed to start delivering food and goods to replace what has been lost. It’s not much, but it’s a start. It will help us gain the trust and support of the people.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Fulk asked, looking at his fellows to make sure they were all as committed.
Tom smiled, clapping Fulk on the shoulder. “We split our force and start recruiting. We let the kingdom know they’re not alone. We show them that there’s hope, that there’s a chance for a better future. It won’t be easy, but every village we help, with every person we bring to our cause, we grow stronger. And when the time is right, when our numbers are great enough, we will march on Starhaven and we will make the king listen.”
A cheer went up from the assembled rebels.
“Now, start figuring out who wants to go where. Who has contacts where. What each of you might need.”
The men began talking excitedly to each other as they fanned out. Tom was proud of them. They’d all come so far in the last several months. He was also a little sad, knowing that not all of them would make it through this.
“Can you get the food to help them?” Tom asked, seemingly to no one.
A man stepped out of the deep shadows behind him, pulling the hood that had concealed his face down, revealing his distinctive blond hair and blue eyes.
“I’ll talk to the barons and see what I can do … but yes. Probably,” Aldric Whitton said.
“Good. I know you’ve already given a lot, but we’re still a long way from finishing this.”
“I know, but we’re nearing the end. Just a little longer.”
“I hope you’re right,” Tom said, looking back at the Duke. “I really do.”
