Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Latio watched Lord Proppu with the detached intensity of a jeweler examining a flawed diamond. The buttering of praise had been a pleasant appetizer, but the time had come for the main course.

”As much as my father and I are honored to have you amongst our guests, I cannot help but notice a glaring void in our company,” Latio began, his voice cutting through the ambient noise of clattering silverware. ”My dear cousin, Merelao, is not among our cherished guests. Tell me, Lord Proppu, what kept your liege from this hall? I had eagerly awaited his arrival, hoping we might celebrate together, yet he is conspicuously absent.”

The Great Bull shifted in his massive seat, the wood groaning like a sinking ship. ”Indeed,” Lavus rumbled, his nasal voice vibrating in his meaty throat. ”A celebration of this magnitude should have commanded the presence of the entire family. His absence tastes of a slight.”

Lord Proppu made a look, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. ”Your Grace,” he began, his voice wavering ”I am saddened to bring a somber tune to an event that should know no grief. I assure you, your esteemed cousin did indeed receive word of the festivities.

I myself wrote to him, hoping to join his entourage and ride for the palace. What he wrote back... it was a refusal. He informed me of his intent to stay away, and he strongly suggested that I do the same.”

Proppu took a steadying breath, his eyes darting toward the exit before locking back onto Latio. ”But I believed it imprudent for no one to come in my liege’s stead to extend his wishes. I felt it a duty to bring the apologies he lacked the grace to send myself. I am here to extend those wishes, hoping I might find a seat at your hearth and carry your blessings back to my liege from his esteemed uncle.”

Latio’s mind raced behind his calm mask.

So, things are truly that fractured between them? In that single admission, Latio had harvested more intelligence on his rival than he had in a year of spying. Proppu was a man whose lands and life were legally bound to Merelao’s whim.

To defy his liege’s command and appear at court to pay homage to a bastard was not just a breach of etiquette,it was a public declaration of defection. Either Proppu was the most politically inept man in the three kingdoms not realising what he was doing, or he was a rat fleeing a ship that he believed was already underwater.

This was a golden pot, but it was boiling over.

If Latio accepted the man’s offer, he gained a mole inside Merelao’s inner circle and a chance to humiliate that arrogant beast of a cousin. He wanted little more than to see Merelao’s pride dragged through the mud.

However, arrogance was not Merelao’s only trait;if that was the case he would not have been such trouble as things stood.

If the Prince extended his blessing to Proppu, the lord would expect protection. Merelao would surely view this as a challenge to his authority. Legally, a liege had every right to discipline a disobedient vassal, and the Prince could not intervene without sparking a crisis and/or a war.

Of course he would need a fair reason, but really that were the easiest to come by...

If Merelao drew steel against Proppu and the Crown did nothing, the Prince’s authority would evaporate; it would show every lord in Kakania that the Great Bull’s protection was as hollow as his promises. But to defend him meant facing Merelao on the field.

That would have made both of their throats dry.

So the question was two fold: Would Merelao answer the affront, and if he did, was the Great Bull ready to gore it?

Latio watched his father, the weight of the moment pressing down like the humidity before a gale. He realized this maneuver had grown too large for a son to manage alone, so he retreated into a respectful silence, prompting the Great Bull to deliver the judgment that would either cement a defection or ignite a war.

”Lord Proppu,” the Prince rumbled, the sound vibrating deep in his chest like a clogged organ. ”We are deeply saddened to learn of our cousin’s absence. It is a tragedy of the blood. We shall make sure to write him personally to inquire after these... transgressions. I am sure there is a logical reason for his lack of manners. Perhaps that old wound of his acted up once more?” Lavus let out a wheezing, wet chuckle, a sound quickly echoed by the sycophants surrounding the table.

”That would certainly explain his recent erratic behavior, Your Grace,” Proppu said, managing a weak smile while his pulse thundered in his ears. He was a man standing on a trapdoor. If he were refused now, Merelao would have his head on a pike before the week was out. ”Your royal cousin is perhaps... not at the best of himself?”

”We shall send the finest physicians to his gates if that is the case,” Latio added smoothly

Proppu bowed low. ”You have a noble soul, Sir Latio. But... may I ask regarding your blessings? I have walked a very long bridge to reach this table.”

A silence so profound it seemed to suck the air from the room fell over the hall. Not the Prince, not the lords, not even the bastard moved. Then, the Great Bull’s face split into a wide, yellow-toothed grin. He laughed, a sound of rolling thunder and shaking fat.

”Oh, my! I had nearly forgotten myself! Come, merry on this night! Wash your face, purge your worries. Dine at our table and drink from our cups. You shall be our guest, Proppu, under our protection, and under our watch.”

The lord didn’t entirely like the final word, but he pressed on. ”And what after this night end, my Prince?”

”You shall carry our gratitude for your gift back to your lands. You shall always find a seat under our roof, now and forever more.”

It was the decree of sanctuary Proppu had gambled his life for. After a flurry of frantic pleasantries, the lord begged his leave, nearly skipping down the marble stairs he had ascended dread replaced by levity.

The feast roared back to life. Three courses were served, each more gargantuan than the last, and the Great Bull devoured portions that would have fed a family of four, demanding seconds of the richest cream-drenched meats. He ate, he laughed, he drank until his eyes went misty.

Lords came up laughing with and at him. The Great Bull never putting any hint of displeasure as if he had missed the point and the barbs.

But as with all storms, the energy eventually broke. The music softened into a low, droning hum; the lords sprawled across their benches in wine-soaked stupors, and the distractions of the night narrowed down to the flickering of candles.

”Was that a wise move, Father?” Latio asked once it was clear no one would be coming to bother them, his voice low and serious. The easy smile he wore for the court was gone, replaced by a look of sharp concern.

Lavus didn’t answer immediately. He stared at a half-eaten pheasant, his usual jovial mask absent. ”You disapprove?” he asked, his tone as cold as a mountain peak.

”I only meant to ask if you were sure of the consequences. Merelao will see this as a declaration.”

”Sure?” Lavus sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weariness of five lifetimes. ”Is that what you ask me? Stupid questions ooze out of your head, son. If you think that is the question I require of you, then you have learned nothing.”

”And what is it I should do?” Latio asked. His eyes held none of the contempt the other lords harbored for the ”Great Bull.” He knew of his father’s mind.

”What will you learn if I spell the answer for you like a tutor?” Lavus growled, shifting his massive weight until the oak chair cried out in protest. ”I am old, Latio. Old and fat. I am not blind to the spectacle I have become. The loss of your mother... it broke the spring in my step that and my weakness I may blame, for nothing your mother deserved but good for me . Once, I was the steel that punished the Reshanians. When the Habadians came with their wicked appetites, hoping to snatch what was mine, I humbled them. My brother and I... we were the iron of Kakania.”

He paused, a look of longing crossing his face. ”He was a great man, Merelao’s father. It is a tragedy his son grew into such a bitter wolf. Back then, I was young and strong, so I acted with the sword. Now I am fat, and all I can do is laugh when they snicker at my size. But they still pay their taxes, Latio. They still bend their knees, because they fear the men I can raise, even if I cannot lead them. You are young, with a whole future ahead of you, but what are you going to accomplish if you flinch at every shadow?”

Lavus turned his heavy, bloodshot eyes toward his son. ”Why did you refer that decision to me? Why did you look to your father like a servant seeking a sign?”

Latio began to speak, but Lavus cut him off with a wet cough.

”As long as you act like a stray bastard, you will be treated as one. That answer should have been yours to give, not mine.Bad show you gave them today. They will remember that the bastard gave word to the fat.

If you want this throne, you must take the authority to defend its guests. But you hesitated. You waited for the old man to do the choice for you.”

Latio looked down, a hot flush of shame rising to his cheeks. In the silence of the dying feast, the Prince’s words felt sharper than any blade.

”Look up, son,” Lavus hissed. ”A bastard waits for permission.If you are to be prince start by acting for it’’ As he said so he rose his head, looking at the last guest coming their way ’’The night is still not over.’’ He motioned, his earlier displeasure disappearing under the mask of his smile as he noticed the emblem of the Habadian tower making his way through the steps leading to the dais.

’’This time act like a prince. We have a troublesome dignitary under our roof.’’