02.02: Cleaning House – 1

Gerard wrinkled his nose as the stink of the sprawl surrounding Aldersthron hit him. He nudged his horse to move faster, past the forest of wooden shacks. The guards at the Eastern gate of the Outer wall shouted to clear carts and peasants out of the way for his convoy.

Inside, the noise and smells of the market shouldering the main road hit him, not dissimilar from what lay outside, just masked by the smells of spices and overripe fruit. Coins glinted and clinked as they changed hands.

The capital was clearly the financial heart of the realm, rivaled only by his seat, Moonlake city. The gap had narrowed in recent years, thanks to the Zoranians decimating Nanon’s naval trade partners, diminishing the advantage Aldersthron enjoyed as their largest port city.

And yet, Laira wished to provoke them.

Foolish.

He breathed freely as the convoy entered the Inner city. Stone replaced timber and space returned. The dull ache in his back made him wonder how many years he had left until he could no longer ride atop his horse. Hopefully after he had ensured the realm’s safety and his family’s prosperity.

The castle’s gates groaned open for him. Ragenwald, the old husk still moving about, was there to greet him, without his usual regalia.

“Your Grace,” the man bowed.

“Lord Councilor,” Gerard greeted with a slight nod.

He dismounted from his horse with a care he hated to employ. Unfortunately, aging bones couldn’t be negotiated with. He would be lucky if he could move about like the old bag of bones at that age.

Ragenwald smiled lightly at him and bowed to Arnold, who had dismounted beside him. “Your Highness.”

Arnold was about to speak when his eyes roamed the man’s clothing. Good; the boy was learning. Even if Laira couldn’t be persuaded to change her mind, Arnold would still be a useful asset.

“Lord Councilor.”

“Her Majesty’s betrothal came as quite a shock,” Gerard got to the point, as they entered the castle, away from the heat of the midday sun. “Could you enlighten me about our future Prince Consort? I’ve never had the pleasure.”

Ragenwald’s lips thinned in thought. “He’s quite a peculiar young man. The Queen kept him and his retinue sequestered in the Royal wing for most of his visit, so I didn’t have many opportunities to talk with him. Have you heard about his weapon demonstration at the betrothal feast?”

A knowing smile played on his lips, reassured that Gerard had obviously been apprised of it by his people.

“Yes, but I would rather hear it from the mouths of those better equipped to make proper assessments.”

“Oh, you will need to talk with General Hrodric, then. Although he might be difficult to get hold of for some time.”

“Why is that?”

“He has been given free rein to purge the Royal military of corruption.”

Gerard almost snorted in response. Pigs would fly before that happened. He gave the old man a look to continue.

“I haven’t seen the General so shocked in a long time. He said that those weapons, if produced in large enough numbers, will reduce lightly armored melee soldiers to little more than pike fodder.”

Gerard almost froze at that. Hrodric was not one for exaggeration. If he spoke in such terms, he meant it. Such a weapon would be a great boon to any defender, but Zoran had already captured most of the continent, and they were not shy about throwing the subjugated populace at their next targets.

No weapon, no matter how fantastical, could push aside a tide of millions coming at it. The spark of hope that had flickered within him guttered out as swiftly as it had lit. He decided to focus on the present, rather than some fantastical hope.

“The circumstances to your resignation are still unclear. There are many rumors floating around.”

Ragenwald exhaled, long and slow. “I attempted to bind the other two Dukes by making them dependent on me.”

“You diverted funds from the treasury,” Gerard said flatly. “Because you didn’t trust Laira and her Spider to handle them properly.”

“Both of them are quite zealous when it comes to handling such delicate matters.”

“Decisive solutions invite backlash, but,” he paused to look at the man, “judging by your expression, you seem to have had a change of heart.”

“I recognized the futility of resisting further. The changes Count Nobart has proposed make Her Majesty and her Spider’s zeal feel minuscule, and they’ve decided to join him. I decided it would be better to be at least present in the Council as the voice of reason, instead of watching the whole house burn down.”

“You would have contacted me if you were convinced of that.”

His wrinkles lifted in a smile. “Yes. The Count used an ingenious method called double-entry bookkeeping to figure out my, uh, efforts. It should help with uncovering embezzlement and fraud that plagues every institution. Maybe, just maybe, he can strengthen our realm, despite all the risks.”

Gerard absorbed that in silence. When Oberstein aligned himself to a man, it was because he saw a system, not just a cause. A wunderkind noble who brought new tools and techniques no one had heard of. Count Zock definitely didn’t think so highly of his son. The mystery was becoming only more convoluted.

“Where might I find our bright Prince Consort-to-be?”

“Back on his way to his county. He departed the day following the announcement.”

Irritation flickered within Gerard, before he smothered it.

“Would you like to meet Her Majesty now or later?” Ragenwald asked.

“Later. After I’ve freshened up. I’m no longer as spry as I used to be.”

The bones and wrinkles smiled coyly, as if humoring a child. Gerard didn’t bother to respond.

An hour later, a confident knock interrupted his nap. The old butler stood still as a statue on the other side.

“The Queen awaits the pleasure of your company for afternoon tea, Your Grace,” he said, with an immaculate bow.

“I will be there shortly”

Guards pushed the doors and stood aside to let him out on the seaside balcony Laira favored.

She was already there, sitting at the table. A smile broke on her face as she got up to greet him.

“Uncle! I’m glad to see you,” she said in a cheery voice.

Gerard went down on one knee.

“My deepest condolences on the passing of your father and brother, Your Majesty. I’m very sorry I could not visit you and take my oath earlier. House Schwan stands with the Crown.”

“Please, uncle. We’re family! You need not be so formal in private. You had pressing matters keeping you in Moonlake. How are Cedric, Brandon and their little ones?”

He stood up, almost towering over her. “Everyone is doing fine. You, on the other hand, have gone through many hardships in matter of a few months.”

Her glowing face fell. “Yes.”

He sat at the table with her, as she poured tea for him.

“Your betrothal came as a surprise to everyone; both the suddenness and your choice.”

Her face froze.

Gerard would have to be gentle, lest she digs in her heels. Smart as she was, Laira could be very headstrong.

“Count Jack is a very capable man, uncle; smart and resourceful. He demonstrated the firepower of fantastical weapons from Chadom to me. They were most impressive and will greatly increase our soldiers' lethality. I don't need to remind you that we need to prepare as much as we can if the Zoranians come knocking.”

Gerard let himself smile. “It is most reassuring that you are taking the security of our realm so seriously. I dare say your brother would have fallen quite short of the task. I supported your position for a reason.”

He took a sip of the excellent tea, sighed and looked at her pointedly. “Laira, is it really necessary for you to marry the man to get those fantastical weapons? Surely we can entice him with something else? Lands? Titles?”

She looked offended. The conversation was not going his way.

“I'm not marrying him just for the weapons, uncle. He is a very thoughtful man, with a vision for a better Nanon, and has the skills to bring it to fruition. I wish to help him realize it, and,” she hesitated, wetting her lips. “I like him.”

Looking at the blushing young woman, Gerard could see that trying to change her mind was a lost cause. She seemed to have fallen for that man. Still, he would give it one more try.

“He is a Count, Laira, and only because you made him one. A man who killed his own father, no less. Marrying him signals every rebellious noble that blood no longer matters.”

“Blood has mattered too much for too long.”

“Blood is the only thing that endures. Love fades. Talent dies with the man. Blood binds generations.”

“It also elevates fools and parasites to positions they shouldn’t be holding. I need a man who can help me rule, not a family tree to ornament tapestries.”

“You can have both. Arnold is turning out into a capable young man. Marry him and you might gain the support of his mother’s House, along with our two.”

“Grauberg can go to hell. Oberstein has uncovered a massive net of corruption led by his men.”

“What backing does Count Nobart has? His own Duke hated his father! If his fief wasn’t located by the sea, it would be just another destitute county, like many others.”

“His mind is worth much more, uncle. He uncovered theft my own minister hid from me within hours. Hours.”

Gerard decided to switch gears. “What of this Chadom? I've never heard of a realm beyond the Treacherous Bog. It was supposed to be uninhabitable land.”

“It's a small realm nestled in the mountains. His people might be few, but they make up for it with their ingenuity. He sold some steel to our armorers, and they claim it matches our best. The weapons he is selling us will be made from that.”

More surprises. Gerard hated them.

“It sounds very suspicious. What if he is working on some other entity's behalf?”

“I think I have the gauge of the man's character, uncle. Please trust me. I would not put the fate of our realm in the hands of someone I didn't trust.”

Gerard noticed the steadiness of her gaze and posture. There was nothing he could do to change her mind.

“As you say, Your Majesty,” he said at last, bowing and conceding defeat for the time.

As he rose to leave, his mind was already turning.

Trust was not verification.

And verification would be his task.