Broken Rule | Chapter 10
This post is chapter ten of my not-previously-published epic fantasy novel Broken Rule, which I'm serializing here on Steemit.
The story so far:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapters 3 & 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Sir Roddy Meers followed Minister Dathan to the king's private chambers. His annoyance at having to track down the minister at the cathedral was gradually giving way to dread at the prospect of giving his report to the king. Meers had cheered as loudly as anyone when Duke Benedek gave the order to withdraw from the mountains, but he doubted that the king would understand what they had gone through. Minister Dathan knocked on the heavy door, pushed it open, and motioned Meers in ahead of him. Inside, King Radoslav stood at the hearth, with one hand on the intricately carved wooden mantle, the other using an iron poker on a guttering fire. Count Evgeny sat in a padded chair with his elbow on a writing desk, supporting his weary head.
Dathan announced him. “Your Majesty, allow me to present Sir Roddy Meers, messenger from Duke Benedek.” Meers went to one knee and bowed his head to the king.
“Yes, yes, man, what have you to report?” asked the agitated king.
Meers stood and hoped that his nervousness would not be heard in his voice. “Majesty, after meeting heavier resistance than expected from the goblins, Duke Benedek has pulled the army from the mountains. He has camped the men on the Midway Hill, between Gorton and Haverwood. He has engineers constructing earthworks and woodworks to make the position more defensible. He plans to send out sorties to meet the goblin raiders as they cross the open land rather than meeting them in their strength in the mountains.”
“What?” shouted Evgeny. “He's digging in?”
“Yes, Lord,” answered Meers. “The fighting went poorly. His Grace believed that the army would be eaten away to nothing by goblin ambushes and desertion by the men if he stayed in the mountains.”
“So instead he intends to eat the treasury away to nothing by camping his army in the field for months on end?” scoffed Evgeny.
Meers fought to keep his disgust from showing on his face. Hearing an honorable man like Benedek insulted by a miser like Evgeny was almost more than he could bear, but the count was still due proper respect. “I know no more of His Grace's mind than he told me, my lord.”
While the Lord Treasurer's mind was focused on gold, the king had a different concern. “Duke Benedek's army is the largest assemblage of men since the War in the South. How could he be losing to goblins?”
Meers sighed. He was certain he wouldn't be able to make them understand. “Majesty, the goblins don't fight like men. They are savage, yet also crafty. They wait in ambush or sneak into our camps in the night like assassins. They care nothing for their own lives and throw themselves at us like rabid beasts.”
King Radoslav furrowed his brow. “Men have fought goblin raiders since time beyond memory, Meers. Have we grown so weak that we can no longer match the deeds of our fathers?”
“Majesty, it is one thing to hunt down a goblin raiding party in our own lands, that is like hunting the beasts of the field. But fighting them in their own mountains is different. They are deadly. They know the land. They can use every crack and crevice to hide. And they have numbers, Majesty, more than we ever dreamed. It was they who were hunting us. And for each man they killed, they struck fear into the hearts of five others. The men were deserting in alarming numbers, Majesty. The men would see the mutilated corpses of their fellows and lose all their courage. Before we left the mountains, our patrols were more concerned with keeping our men in our camps than with keeping the goblins out. With the courage gone out of the men, they couldn't hold formation, making the goblin traps and ambushes that much more deadly. I'm sorry, Majesty. We failed in the task you set us, but I dispute that other men have succeeded before where we have failed.”
The king scowled in response. He waved his hand dismissively at the knight. “Go rest yourself, Meers. We will have a message for you to take back to the Lord Marshal tomorrow.”
It was plain from their expressions that the king and Count Evgeny had judged him poorly, along with Duke Benedek and all the other men under his command. Meers knew the wiser course would be to remain silent, but his pride wouldn't let him. “We're not cowards, Majesty. If you had been there, seen what I have seen, you would understand. If you had seen a goblin's teeth rip out a man's throat, a goblin's claws rend a man's flesh. Seen what was left of good men after one of their ambushes. You have nothing to compare it to.”
“I've lived a long time, Meers,” said Evgeny. “I've known many brave men, and not a one of them ever felt compelled to offer explanations for why their actions should not be misinterpreted as cowardice because they knew their actions could not be.”
This was too much to bear, even coming from a count. “And I trust you will be riding to the Wolf's Teeth to confront the goblins yourself. Your amazing victories over the coin of the realm are the stuff of legend, my lord. Perhaps you ought to ride out to the field and show us how it is done.”
“That's enough, Meers,” said the king. “You were dismissed.”
With an effort, Meers brought his anger back under control. “Yes, Majesty. Thank you,” He bowed and made his way quickly out of the room.
Minister Dathan closed the door behind the departing knight and stayed behind in case the king should have further need of him.
Count Evgeny's face had gone red. “This is outrageous, Radoslav! Benedek will bankrupt the kingdom! You know that supporting that many men in the field is straining our coffers. How long can he sit on this hill of his? Weeks? Months? Years? He'll bleed us dry.” Dathan had never seen Evgeny so worked up. He was usually much more controlled, using his razor tongue to slice his foes to ribbons without ever losing composure himself. The treasury must be in more jeopardy than Dathan had realized.
“I think we have bigger problems, old friend,” the king said, slumping down into a chair by the fire. “When word gets out that our army can't even fight goblins, how long will it be before the Torzani are on the march? Or the Garnmen? Or perhaps the sea barbarians will fancy another go.”
“Most Holy...” the count swore. “And this business with Gavril on top of it all.”
“Yes, Gavril,” muttered the king. “Evgeny, the reports say Gavril is putting together his own army. How in hell can he afford it if we can't?”
“I don't know. He must have some other source of funds. His lands are rich and he is a shrewd man, but I can't figure out how he could lay his hands on even half as much gold as he would need.”
“Maybe that oaf Toma was on to something. Maybe if I had swallowed my pride and made Gavril the Lord Marshal we wouldn't be in this mess. Benedek certainly has made a hash of things.”
“Radoslav, you know as well as I do that Gavril is dangerous. With an army at his back, how long do you think it would be before he grasped for even greater title? Benedek's family has been loyal and true for as long as Tarkannan has been a kingdom. How could you slight him by stripping him of his title?”
“Yes, Gavril is dangerous, but now it seems that he'll have his army anyway, an army more loyal to him than to me. And Benedek is certainly loyal, but he has never been bold, even when he was a young man. Now that he is old and sickly, I wonder if I made a mistake by not replacing him.”
“If he'd married when he should have and had a son when he should have, we wouldn't be in this mess.”
The king grumbled in agreement. “We're truly in a mess now. The trick is to get out of it. Perhaps I should call Zakhar back. Even Gavril would hesitate to go up against the Liatian Lancers.”
Evgeny's face was troubled, as if he was trying to figure out the gentlest way to deliver bad news. “Radoslav, Zakhar is your rightful heir, but he's been living in Liat for fifteen years. Many of the great houses would see him as a foreigner, especially if he marched in at the head of an army.”
“Damn it, Evgeny, Zakhar's marriage to Princess Danijela was supposed to be the triumph of my reign!”
Prince Zakhar's marriage was something that Dathan's predecessor had handled. By marrying Danijela, Zakhar had become ruler of the principality of Liat. After Radoslav's death, Zakhar would also inherit the throne of Tarkannan and the two nations would be merged. It was to be a triumph of diplomacy over war, adding more land to the kingdom than any previous king had done through armed conquest, without a drop of blood being spilled.
“Majesty, that's true, but after the invasion by the sea barbarians, the people are mistrustful of foreigners. You love your son Zakhar, but he was barely past childhood when he left Tarkannan. Many lords will see him only as a Liatian. With time that may change, but with the war so fresh in people's memories, it may alienate many who would be inclined to support us.”
“So you like neither of my options. Do you have anything useful to contribute, or are you content to snipe and complain like an old man?”
“You know I'm your friend. If I had answers for you, I'd tell you. Are you saying that my counsel is wrong?”
“No,” sighed the king. “But what use is counsel when all paths lead to destruction? We've been waiting too long, you and I. Waiting to see how things would play out, and they've played out poorly. We need to act, but I don't know what to do.”
Dathan, recalling the advice of his friend the priest, spoke up. “Majesty, perhaps diplomacy is still possible with Gavril.”
The king pondered that for a moment. “That may be worth pursuing. We know that he has been angling to be named Lord Marshal. If I offered the title to him, perhaps that would slake his ambitions. He is a fine general, after all. If the Garnmen attack, we'll need him.”
“He's a jumped up brute!” said Evgeny.
“I think you forget who jumped him up and why. Disparage him all you want, we'd have lost the War in the South without him and you know it.”
Evgeny scowled, more accustomed to putting others in their place than the reverse. “Even if we were ready to negotiate with him, he may no longer be willing to negotiate with us. By gathering an army, he has shown he wishes to resolve our differences through force of arms rather than words.”
“We'll need to send an emissary, someone he will be willing to meet with.”
“Who? He'd reject anyone we would trust to carry out the mission.”
Dathan's thoughts again returned to what Marek had said in the cathedral. “Majesty, perhaps you could ask Bishop Vasili to travel to Thornwood to talk to the Duke. Vasili is a good and decent man, and everyone knows that he doesn't engage in the politics of the court. Gavril couldn't turn him away.”
“Hmmm,” pondered the king. “That may be a good idea, Oleg. I'd been praying the Most Holy would save us from this mess. Perhaps I should have been thinking about how He could do it in a more practical manner than through some miracle. What do you think, Evgeny?”
“Normally I'd prefer an agent who was more subtle and crafty, but we don't have many options. And surely the bishop can be trusted to do his best to keep us from going to war. The question will be whether his best is good enough.”
“Oleg, invite Bishop Vasili to dine with me tonight. We'll ask him then if he'll go to Thornwood and negotiate with our recalcitrant duke.”
“Yes, Majesty,” the minister responded.