02.26: Untangling the Mess – 3

The meeting chamber smelled of wax and old wood. Parchment glowed under shafts of sunlight.

“I will not let a pack of burghers decide the fate of my lands,” Baron Wulf spoke first, fist planted on the table.

“They won’t,” I said evenly. “As long as you are hale and hearty, the council will be nothing more than advisors to you. But, God forbid if anything happens to you and your heir isn’t ready, I’m sure you don’t want to leave your barony in a state where someone like Grunric can seize it.”

“My sons are prepared.”

“What about their heirs? Can you swear they will be as capable and ready?”

He glared back, but did not refute me.

“It’s not about weakening you, Baron, but ensuring your land and its people don’t suffer even when your bones are dust. Did you try to take Blackrain back?”

“I did,” he said through clenched teeth. “The attempt failed. I would have tried again, but with the county in turmoil, I couldn’t risk weakening my forces too much.”

“What is the situation there?”

“We have disrupted their outer operations but Blackrain’s largest iron and coal mines sit very close to the town. The bastards have almost two hundred defenders in there now.”

My force of four hundred suddenly felt inadequate.

I turned to Reshma. “My lady?”

She shook her head. “The Ironfelds haven’t responded to our letters. Not even the Queen’s.”

That was disturbing.

“And the Queen?” I asked.

“She’s given you sanction to act as you see fit.”

“Excellent. Since they have decided to give up on words, we must now rely on action.”

I turned to the grizzled man. “My lord, I want us to be allies for the long term and would appreciate your cooperation. I promise you, it will be a very lucrative alliance. You won’t have to look for a new customer for your minerals and timber, ever. What do you say?”

He sighed. “Help me reclaim Blackrain, and you will have your council.”

I smiled in return. His reluctant agreement was good enough for now.

I turned to the old Dowager Nordhaven. “My lady?”

Eyes sharp as pins looked at me. “I already have advisors in place. I don’t want others deciding who sits on my council.”

“The councilors will still answer to you. And you can remove them if they turn out to be corrupt, inept or disloyal.” I counted on my fingers.

“I would rather just choose them myself.”

“And I’m sure you would choose the right people, but what about your grandson? What if he is new to the seat, with you and your trusted advisors gone? Are you confident he won’t end up surrounding himself with bootlickers? Being beholden to voters would limit how destructive they can be.”

She glared back at me. “You ask me to weaken my position.”

“And secure your grandson’s future.”

She huffed, mouth twisting as if she had bitten into something bitter.

She looked me in the eyes. “If this ends in ruin, you can be sure I will curse your name, my lord.”

I bowed to her. “And I would have deserved it.”

“Fine,” she said sharply. “I agree.”

I looked at Eirica.

She hesitantly looked up at me. Her eyes were dry, rimmed red with exhaustion and wariness.

“You are asking me to put my child’s future in hands of strangers.”

“In the hands of men who benefit from his survival. Even when in power, the council will only administer the land, not rule it. It will maintain defenses, collect taxes, but cannot declare war or set up new taxes. You, as the lord’s guardian, would be its member. The moment the councilors try to overstep, the higher authorities will intervene. I promise you.”

“Could this council not be convened only when it’s needed?”

“When men are already at each other’s throats and preparing for war? No, my lady. The council must exist and be ready before the peace of the land is disturbed. Once the signs of disorder are clear, it will already be too late.”

She looked at the large table, the scattered parchments and the seals waiting to be pressed.

She inclined her head. “Then, I defer to your judgment.” She met my eyes again, pleading. “I just want my child’s future to be secure.”

“It will be. Councils only ensure that our lands remain stable at all times. They won’t take away your rights.”

For some time.

She nodded her assent.

Then my eyes shifted to Dowager Nebelhain.

Her generous lips curved up slightly as she met my gaze.

“My lady, you only have daughters, so why are you the one representing Nebelhain?” I didn’t want to dance verbally with her.

“My position is rather delicate, my lord. May we discuss it in private?” she asked coyly.

“No.”

She pouted. “I tried very hard to get a private meeting with you, but was rebuffed every time.”

“Do not let her in your bed,” Dowager Nordhaven interjected. “God alone knows how many men she has opened her legs for.”

The younger woman gave her a dirty look before turning back to me. “Ignore the crone, my lord. My husband and his cousins all perished in that battle. The only remaining claimants are from distant branch families, with no experience in running a barony. I thought that maybe I or my eldest could be confirmed as the reigning Baroness, as the Queen was?”

I froze, looking at those beautiful, pleading puppy dog eyes.

Wulf’s eyes widened with outrage, while the crone laughed openly.

I couldn’t help but smile. How very bold.

“My lady, our late King had declared his daughter his heir. And you don’t even have Nebelhain’s blood running in you.”

“I don’t think you care much about that,” she said the dangerous words out loud.

The chamber went very still.

I almost smacked a hand against my forehead. “I already have enough enemies. I can’t afford to make more.”

Her shoulders sagged. “It was worth asking.”

Then her expression darkened, genuine vulnerability showing in her eyes for the first time. “I beg of you, my lord, please grant me a private audience.”

Looking at her face, I could tell this was no theater. I exhaled. “Fine. We will discuss your situation in private.”

At least I didn’t have to worry about her support. A seat on the council was the only way for her to maintain any form of power, besides marrying the next Baron.

“If all of you are in agreement, let me present you the Charter of Stewardship Councils,” I said, looking at Elric, who began placing rolls of parchment in front of the four of them.

I gave all of them some time to read it before speaking up.

“As you’ve read, the council will be nothing more than the lord’s advisors. Only when he is dead, missing or judged incapable or a traitor by his lord does it govern. The councilors will have a limited tenure, with the charter being enforced by justiciars.”

“You think this will stop them from seizing power?” Wulf narrowed angry eyes at me.

“Nothing can cure the human mind of greed, Baron. We can only put safeguards in place. It would be up to you to appoint upstanding men to uphold this document. Trust me when I say this, I’m giving you the key to a better future, if you can keep it.”

Our meeting finished, people began walking out of the chamber. Both Dowager Nebelhain and Eirica remained seated.

I approached the older of the two women. “My lady,” I said, pointing to the adjoining chamber.

She followed me to the smaller chamber and stood before me, shoulders drooping. Reshma followed and closed the door.

She glanced at the tall Sindhi woman.

“I will share everything with her, so you might as well speak in front of her,” I said flatly, then softened my tone, “What troubles you, my lady?”

“I’m afraid for my daughters and their future, my lord. I kept the infighting away from the capital the best I could, but skirmishes have already happened in Nebelhain. I fear it will soon succumb to infighting.”

“That, we must stop. Why did no one from Nebelhain arrive to claim the baronial title?”

She swallowed, struggling to meet my eyes. “I controlled all communication from outside, but please believe me when I say this,” she pleaded, staring in my eyes, “there is no candidate suitable for the position of Baron there.”

Or none that you can control?

“I will personally visit Nebelhain to resolve the issue, then.”

Relief broke across her face like sunrise. She beamed at me and bowed low. “Thank you very much, my lord.”

I nodded as she turned and left.

I looked at Reshma. “What do you think?”

“I believe she was being honest,” she said softly.

I exhaled, dreading the next meeting. “And now there is one left.”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Reshma teased.

“Really?” I asked in disbelief.

“I’m going to trust that you were speaking the truth when you told your mother you are not collecting every woman who catches your eye.”

“Eirica is not just any woman.”

“So you want me to be there?”

I thought for some time, then replied, “No.”

She nodded. “Just don’t mention you-know-what to her. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

She spun around and left, swaying her hips for my sake.

The meeting chamber felt even larger, with just me and Eirica alone.

She stood next to the table, watching me with wary eyes, as if looking at a stranger.

Unsure of how to begin the meeting, I asked, “How are you, Eirica?”

“I’ve been worse. Thanks to you, I don’t have to fear for my child’s life.”

Then, she bowed low.

“Stop that,” I said louder than I should have.

She almost flinched, making my heart jump. It didn’t take a genius to deduce Baron Mondgrove wouldn’t have been a good man in his home either.

“I don’t know how to thank you, Jack. I’m so sorry for all that you went through.”

“Thanks,” I said softly, not locking eyes with her. My heart beat against my chest, as I gave voice to the question that had been constantly nagging me. “Why did you pause at Grunric’s accusation?”

“It reminded me of the choice I made. When my marriage with the Baron was confirmed, I wrote to you. I never sent the letter.”

I felt my chest tighten. “Why?”

“I knew if you came for me, you would never stop. Your father also wasn’t a man to be denied. Your clash would have destroyed the county.”

She scanned my face. “You really don’t remember anything?”

“I was being truthful when I said I’ve lost most of my memories. I do remember us being together, once, but not when and where.”

A sad smile spread across her face. “It was after your father refused our match.”

I hesitated, but pushed out the word, “So?”

“My little Cedric is his father’s son.”

I visibly relaxed, which she didn’t fail to notice.

“Does it relieve you that much?” she asked, with a tinge of bitterness in her voice.

“It’s a matter of responsibility. If he was my child, I, I don’t know what I would do, but everything would be different. It would affect my every plan,” I said truthfully.

“You’ve changed,” she whispered. “The man I loved would have burned the world to keep one child safe. You would ask whether the fire was justified.”

She inclined her head; formal and restrained. “Thank you again for saving our lives, and congratulations on your betrothal.”

Before I could say anything, she took my hand, kissed the knuckles and swiftly left the chamber, tears gathering in her eyes.