43: Proclamation

Silence settled over the table. Real silence; the heavy kind that follows a choice no one can take back.

Laira exhaled softly. “Then let us prepare for what lies ahead.”

Arnulf finally spoke, his voice low. “Your reforms will shake the realm, Your Majesty, my lord. But better we shake ourselves now… than let Zoran do it for us.”

For the first time since entering the chamber, I felt a shift. Not acceptance, not yet. But alignment. The beginning of something.

The Council had not embraced me.

But they were listening.

I followed Laira and Reshma to a seaside balcony for lunch, where the lithe woman hugged me from behind.

“I’ve never seen poor General Hrodric so shaken before,” she said, chin resting on my shoulder.

“Why do you sound happy?” I asked.

“I’m not, but what is the point of moping? I trust you.”

“I’m not omnipotent, Reshu.”

“Hey!” she pushed back indignantly, while Laira chuckled.

“How does it feel to taste your own medicine?” the Queen asked, as the grumpy woman sat down and began serving us the mouth-watering dish laid out. Creamy mushroom pheasant.

Laira continued, “I am worried for the poor General. This reform will be an unprecedented move. There’s going to be a severe backlash.”

I looked her in the eyes. “You know it’s necessary.”

She exhaled. “I know. What is your end goal?”

“With the military reform? As I told you before, a national military. There can be no conflicting loyalties among soldiers and officers. If they don’t stand together, we will not survive.”

“And I told you,” she said, cutting her pheasant, “that’s not possible. No noble will willingly give up the right to field his own forces.”

“I know, but one way or another, we must build a single professional standing military, beginning with the forces of your House. Trust me, it is possible, and when we are done, other forces will look like children with sticks in comparison.”

“Why do you sound so convinced?” she said, eyes narrowed. “I’m half tempted to believe you are mad.”

Those words made my heart flutter, and not in a good way. How would I explain to her I’m from an advanced civilization where national militaries are the norm.?

“I will tell you at some point. So how will the royal wedding happen? Chadom is not ready to host such a grand event.”

I was still apprehensive about showing her my nascent nation. It was just me and a few thousand refugees, living around a castle under construction, some workshops and a few fortifications.

“You don't want me to visit your home?” she teased.

“It's not much to look at, yet. Give me a few months, and it will be worthy of a royal visit. It’s a natural fortress and our recent focus has been on hardening it further.”

“Why?”

“To safeguard our people, and all that we are building within. All of our advanced weaponry and ammo will be built there, so I don't want any spy getting there along with your retinue.”

“You won’t establish workshops here?”

“No. The likelihood of a spy learning about our methods is too high. I can’t take that chance.”

“They could just steal the weapons and replicate them.”

“Not the new ones.” I said, smirking.

“The thunder weapons? Why not? They are wood and metal.”

“No. Manufacturing truly advanced weapons requires understanding of some principles that leads to highly accurate machines, that can then produce those weapons. I don’t know how our enemy is making their own, but it’s best they don’t get a look at our manufacturing process at all. Any knowledge they gain would diminish our advantage.”

“Very well. Should we skip the crossbows, then?”

“No. The thunder weapons consume powder that we can’t produce in large quantities yet. The crossbows won’t be that easy to replicate in large numbers either, as they need a lot of high quality steel.”

“Hmm. I guess we will have the marriage ceremony here then,” she said. “The priests say three months from now is a good time.”

I nodded to that. Enough time for me to prepare.

“So, what are your plans now?” Laira asked.

My face soured. “Thanks to you, I will have to first deal with the situation in Nobart. Most of the professional soldiers and heads of vassal houses are dead there. I’m not looking forward to dealing with that.”

“You’re the one who killed them. Do you not want the county?”

“I do, but-”

“Let me help you out!” Reshma interjected.

Both of us turned to look at her.

“Diplomacy is not your strong suit, Jack, unless weapons are involved. Let me tag along. I will help you out so you can quickly get back to Chadom and your Aprilia.”

I looked at Laira for confirmation.

A shadow fell over her face. “I’m worried about the traitors. They attacked you one time. They can do it again.”

“Give us a bigger guard then, but we can’t stay hidden.”

She reluctantly nodded her assent.

“Thanks, that will help a lot. Can I ask for another favor?”

The Queen’s eyes narrowed. “The price I paid for your repeating crossbows was already pretty steep.”

“It’s for our mutual benefit, I promise. I need to set up a proper dock and build some ships. Chadom has nothing bigger than fishing boats. I need a way to quickly travel between Chadom, Nobart and Aldersthron. Overland travel would take weeks.”

“Isn’t the whole coast around Chadom unapproachable?”

“Small ships with shallow draft can cross at a certain point.”

“They still wouldn't sail without favorable winds. You are leaving too much to chance.”

I cocked my eyebrows in confusion, then remembered seeing only square sails.

“Not necessarily.”

“What is it?” she asked with a morsel of pheasant halfway to her mouth, as she noticed me smirking.

“They can be made to sail in oblique winds as well.”

I was no sailor, but did know how triangular sails allowed a ship to use oblique winds.

She spent some time thinking about it.

“Did you realize that it will allow our ships to travel at times and to places where others couldn't?” I asked.

“Yes. It would change everything… Trade and war. What will it take for you to give me the knowledge, my dear future husband?”

“I need a few experienced shipyard and shipbuilders, along with their families, tools and plenty of material. Send them on five well-built shallow draft ships, manned by married sailors, along with their families, to Nobart's port town of Nordhaven. I will upgrade those ships with the new sail design and gift one to you.”

“Five?” she asked indignantly.

“I was going to ask for one and some workers as a favor, but four isn’t too bad of a price for a technology that will revolutionize maritime trade and warfare.”

“Four! And only because it’s you.”

“I humbly accept.”

“Anything else?”

“You need more meat in your diet.”

She looked quizzically at her plate, then at me.

“There's plenty there.”

“It's not mine.”

That drew a snort from Reshma, while the Queen glared at both of us. She muttered about being surrounded by overgrown children and went back to her lunch.

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The next morning, the Throne room was full of whispers and perfumes, fear and ambition, packed full as it was of nobles. Jewels sparkled in the sunlight filtering from the high windows, as the aristocrats speculated what proclamation the Queen was about to make.

“A new Prime Minister perhaps? I heard Lord Ragenwald has been confined to his chambers.”

“What of this mystery guest? He has been seen visiting the Royal wing multiple times, but nobody knows his identity. I saw the most odd looking carriage in the stables.”

The gossiping continued on, until the herald struck the floor with his staff. The Queen arrived, along with her mysterious guest. All heads turned to look at them. The Queen’s red and white gown glowed from its silver and gold filigree catching light, while the man next to her looked no less resplendent in a black sharply cut militaristic suit.

“My Lords and Ladies,” she began, voice projecting to the back of the hall. “I have gathered you today for an important announcement. We have long mourned the treachery that took my father and brother from us. Today, the shadows are lifted.”

The Queen took out a document and unfurled it. “Evidence has been brought before the Crown. One of the architects of our sorrow was none other than Count Zock Nobart, who was conspiring with foreign powers. ”

People gasped and she paused to let everyone absorb the information.

She continued. “Justice has already been served. The traitor fell by the hand of his own flesh and blood. I present to you Viscount Jack Nobart. He who was cast out has returned to cleanse his House.” She pointed to the handsome young man standing close to her.

“The Viscount was disowned by his father and later presumed dead when he helped some unfortunate souls flee persecution. He returned, not to claim his inheritance, but to purge his House of dishonor. When Count Zock found out his son had found proof of his treachery, he launched an attack, but was soundly defeated. Less than half of his force survived.”

The hall went as silent as a crypt.

“My lord, in recognition of your service to the realm by punishing a traitor, your father no less, I hereby restore your titles. I grant you the sum of fifteen thousand gold crowns and confirm you as the Count of Nobart.”

That drew muted claps, and the new Count bowed.

She stepped down from the dais, a breach of protocol that made the front row flinch. She stood beside the Count, shoulder to shoulder.

“I should also tell you that the good Viscount has forged a new realm from the wilderness. He stands before you not only as a vassal of this Crown but as the Supreme Leader of Chadom.”

She took the Count’s hand, and the shock in the room solidified into a paralysis.

“The Supreme Leader of Chadom not only brought a traitor of rank to justice, but has vowed to join us in the fight against the scourge of Zoran Empire, and I have found him quite capable. Thus, to solidify the bonds between our people and join our fates together against our common enemy,” she declared, “I shall take the Supreme Leader as my husband. He is the Count of Nobart, and from this day forth, the Prince Consort of the Realm.”

For three heartbeats, no one moved. Then, slowly, the applause began. It wasn't the raucous cheer of a celebration, but the terrified, obedient clapping of men who realized the world had just changed, and they had no idea where they stood in it.