In Treachery Forged (The Law of Swords) (27 page)

“Relax,” El’Athras said. “At this point, it’s really out of your control. I gather you’re wondering if divorcing or dissolving your marriage would help things?”

“No!” Maelgyn snapped. “I wouldn’t do that. Not just for my sake, at any rate, but if things are too hard for Euleilla....”

“Trust me,” El’Athras sighed, understanding. “It’s already too late for you to do anything to make it ‘easier’ on her or ‘safer’ for her... or for you. Yes, some people might hate her for marrying you, but dissolve your marriage and the scandal will likely result in her being persecuted for the rest of her life. On your end, the very people who might hate her will still hate you for abandoning her, and the people who might have supported you in your decision to marry her will be disappointed in you.”

“Even if the... unusual circumstances of our marriage were explained?”

“Even then,” El’Athras said. Then he smiled toothily. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with her.”

Maelgyn laughed, half in relief and half in nervousness. “Well, good. I think she’ll make me a fine wife, despite the ‘problems’ of her birth. Being ‘stuck with her’ isn’t that bad. When Arnach or Brode become king – for I’m sure it’ll be one of them – I think I’ll retire to Sopan province, and hopefully get her accepted there.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can manage that, should you be able to retire to Sopan,” El’Athras said. “But I’m still hoping you’ll wind up the Sword King of Svieda. After all, I’m investing quite a lot of effort in giving you the tools needed to win the war in Sho’Curlas, and I suspect you’d be good at employing them.”

Maelgyn shook his head. “Brode and Arnach are both much better at tactics and strategy than I, at least if our relative skills at games of strategy are any indication. They would know how to lead you properly, rest assured of that.”

El’Athras shrugged. “I suppose. I still feel you will treat my fellow Dwarves better, in the long run, than either of those two. After all,” he grinned, “You’re asking me for advice. That’s more than most in your position would do.”

“Well, don’t start making plans for my coronation yet,” Maelgyn said. “To be honest, I fully expect that by the time I get my armies to the front of battle, one of my cousins will already be king.” He considered for a moment before nodding, “Probably Arnach. Arnach VII, Sword King of Svieda. Or maybe Brode IX. But I seriously doubt there’ll ever be a Maelgyn I.”

“You never know,” the Dwarf said. “I never believed that I would be named a Merchant Prince, much less that I would ever become the leader of the Free Dwarves. Or that I would use that power to become a Count of Svieda.”

“The
first
Count of Svieda, as a matter of fact,” Maelgyn laughed. “But you’re going to have to name a choice for another Count, to leave as your regent while you’re gone. And you’ll have to do it before we leave – you don’t happen to have anyone in mind, do you?”

“No,” El’Athras said. “I hadn’t even thought of it, to be honest. Who’s eligible under Sviedan law?”

“Anyone who lives within the borders of your province, unless otherwise ineligible by the local laws. Once he is named, however, the title remains in his line, and his descendents will be your regents as well. If he dies, it will be your responsibility to locate his heir or, should he not have an heir, to designate a new regent.”

“Well, I’ve yet to establish a set of local laws that would make anyone ineligible,” El’Athras laughed. “Hmm... maybe I should name that innkeeper – El’Ba, I believe Wodtke said his name was – to the position. He seems to have a good head on his shoulders in a crisis, and it might tweak the noses of those idiot clan heads, now wouldn’t it?”

“Probably,” Maelgyn agreed. “If he’ll take the job.”

“Oh, he’ll take the job,” the Dwarf snorted. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Chapter 17

“I can’t believe you managed to rope me into this,” El’Ba sighed. It was his final meeting with the “royal entourage” which was being assembled around Maelgyn: Wangdu, Euleilla, Doctor Wodtke, Tur’Ba, and, of course, El’Athras. “I’m just an innkeeper, after all, and you’re sticking me with the job of rebuilding the entire Dwarven government from scratch!”

“Not from scratch,” El’Athras laughed. “After all, you’ve got Sviedan Code to consider.”

“Oh, right,” El’Ba snorted. “A multi-tiered system. Under the lord of the province is the lord regent, who rules in the lord’s absence. There must be a court system independent of the nobility. There must be a council of barons, who receive their titles through inheritance. There must be a representative council of civilians, who must be given at least the power to veto legislation. That’s a lot to go on.”

“Well, given that we Dwarves have managed just fine since the death of King Tur’Ma with a broken government, I figure you’ll manage to come up with something that doesn’t screw us up too badly,” El’Athras noted. “Besides, you’ll have help. I have appointed you an aide.... What was his name? That loyal blacksmith who braved the rioters to deliver me Maelgyn’s message. Tur’Ne, I think it was? He should be able to give you all the help you need.”

“Of all the people you could have appointed to help me with this task, why him? Tur’Ne is loyal, yes, and he’s a good friend, but he’s just a blacksmith, and barely out of his childhood,” El’Ba growled. “What does he know about politics?”

“Exactly,” the other Dwarf laughed. “He’ll have all of the strength, vigor, and impetuousness to implement anything you want done, without all the usual hang-ups from most of the career politicians who I might have otherwise chosen. You’ve got the wisdom and knowledge gained by running a successful business for over a hundred years on your own. Together, you’ll make a great team. Besides, you’ll still have my entire advisory staff to help you, as well.”

“Bah,” the new Regent finally said. “Whatever. Just get out of here before I change my mind and turn down the job.”

As El’Ba marched away towards his new home inside the freshly dubbed “Count’s Estate,” Maelgyn turned to the building’s past and future tenant, El’Athras. “Hmm,” he considered as he mounted his llama. “How did you convince him to take the job, anyway?”

“I didn’t. I told his wife that, if she wanted to live in a nice big mansion with servants at her beck and call rather than live as the cook at a small, drafty inn that will be closed down while the riot damage was repaired, she’d better convince him to take the job for me.”

“Good plan, that,” Maelgyn said, restraining a smile from appearing on his face while he took the reins of his mount.

“Be warned,” El’Athras advised as he climbed onto his own llama. “A wife is a powerful tool as a weapon in politics. The problem is that weapon works both ways. A good woman is a strength in difficult time, yes, but they can also be a weakness.”

“Athy, dear,” Wodtke chirped sweetly. “Don’t fill the young prince’s head with nonsense, okay?”

“But I was just telling him the truth!” El’Athras protested. “I was just saying that women are a very effective weapon against their men. Not always because they’re being used, mind you, but if they, for whatever reason, decided they wanted something... well, any woman can be a danger to their lover, even the most loyal of them.”

“Indeed,” Euleilla agreed. “I could be, although I assure you I’ll be a most loyal danger.”

Maelgyn raised an eyebrow. “And just how could you be a weapon against me?” he asked.

Euleilla stared at him pointedly. Her smile, which Maelgyn had long missed during her period of illness, tweaked up on her face.

“Oh,” said Maelgyn, his cheeks burning.

The journey to the border of Sopan was significantly shorter than Maelgyn had anticipated, though it did take some time. The llamas, while they lacked the burst speed of a horse, definitely showed themselves to be at least as fast over the long haul. A journey he had anticipated lasting a week on foot took less than a day, and Maelgyn had a hard time believing he could have done that even on a horse. Overall, he was rather glad to have won the support of the Dwarves.

He was significantly less pleased with the Sopan Province Army that now surrounded him. Since crossing the border, they had been gradually travelling to Sopan castle using well-travelled roads, and any passing travelers were informed of his coming, but it seemed his armies had yet to hear of his arrival. Maelgyn had expected that his “escort” might be taken as a threat, but that didn’t make him any happier to be right.

“Show the sign of truce,” Maelgyn ordered. “They don’t know who we are, yet.”

As the order passed from man to man, tall leafy branches painted white – the ancient symbol of a parley request – rose above the heads of Dwarf and Nekoji warrior alike. The Sopan forces surrounding them came to a halt, and after a few minutes three men on horseback, each in well-crafted armor, came forward to meet the parley.

Maelgyn eyed their armor critically, assessing it for signs of their rank. Some types of armor were generally inexpensive in Human lands – thanks to the relative abundance of magic, iron or steel armor could be mass produced for little more than the cost of the raw materials. That armor, however, was not the best available. Magic might be able to enhance some qualities of steel, but magical mass production typically lacked the quality of workmanship which custom smithing could produce. Furthermore, mages could not fashion cheap armor out of the materials often used
against
mages, such as bronze plate. The armor the three men were wearing did not have any magical enhancements to improve the quality of steel or the fit of the joints, but it was some of the best that could be produced without blending both magic and true smithing skills. It was steel armor, however, which suggested that it had not been purchased to prevent magical attacks, but rather to demonstrate affluence.

Maelgyn noted that they showed other signs of great wealth as well. Obviously, he was being greeted by some of the barony, or at least members of the wealthier set of the aristocracy. There were no obvious symbols to indicate which barony they ruled on their coats, and for that Maelgyn was grateful.

In Svieda, unlike some of the older Human kingdoms such as Poros or Squire’s Knot, the provincial governments issued relatively inexpensive armor to any member of the army as required: Leather armor (better against mages and more mobile, but less effective against swords and arrows) for the foot soldiers and steel (poor against mages, but otherwise significantly better defensively) for the officers. However, many of the wealthier officers, especially those in the barony, purchased their own custom-built armor instead. Maelgyn had mixed emotions about the practice. True, it relieved some burden on his own treasury, and it provided officers with more safety and a better fit, but usually the nobles Maelgyn had seen with their own armor eschewed Svieda’s colors in favor of their own crests. He always felt the Barons should have to wear the same colors as their men, and he was glad to see that at least these three did.

“Greetings,” one of the three barons said, addressing El’Athras. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your, shall we say, unexpected visit?”

“Well, we’re merely escorting a member of the royalty for our new allies,” the Dwarf explained, looking a little amused.

“Allies?” the Baron snorted. “Who? Is some member of the Caseificio Imperial Family in your company?”

“While the Caseificio is also part of the alliance and some of their representatives are a part of this party, none of the Imperial family are with us,” El’Athras chuckled. “However, His Highness, the Sword Prince Maelgyn, Duke of Sopan – your liege lord – is. I should add that, thanks to His Highness, you are now addressing the Count of the Sviedan Province of Mar’Tok. Caseificio is now a County of Svieda as well, and therefore there is no more Imperial family for Caseificio. Our alliance was more of a merger of our kingdoms, you see, and I figured it would be best if we provided an armed escort for our new Prince.”

The Baron’s eyes widened. “Sword Prince Maelgyn? Here?”

“Um, greetings,” Maelgyn said, finally making his presence known. Realizing how awkward that overly casual greeting sounded, he drew the heirloom sword of his rank, and presented it in a formal salute. “I’m afraid I’m a bit unfamiliar with my own Council of Barons. May I ask who I’m addressing?”

“We knew you were coming, my lord, but we never expected... that is, we didn’t know you had been in talks with the Dwarves,” the nobleman answered, looking suddenly out of his element when he recognized the katana. He looked in askance at El’Athras, but then collected himself to make formal introductions. “Please, My Lord, let us escort you – and the, uh, new Count – to your capital. I am Baron Yergwain, Colonel in charge of the First Infantry Regiment and acting as the General of your First Division. My companions are Baron Mathrid, Colonel of the First Cavalry, and the Honorable Sir Leno, my brother, who is also the Colonel in charge of the First Archers.”

“They may not need our aid, brother,” the one Yergwain had introduced as Sir Leno said. “My lord, am I correct in thinking you are a mage? And one of significant power, too, if what I have heard is true.”

“No, you aren’t mistaken,” Maelgyn laughed. “Although power is a relative term.”

“Yes, indeed,” Leno agreed, nodding. Then he noticed Euleilla and her ever-present cloud of magic powder. “You seem to have another in your company, as well. A powerful one, from that display.”

Maelgyn coughed slightly. “Yes, well... that would be my wife.”