In Treachery Forged (The Law of Swords) (50 page)

Uwelain was the one who asked the obvious question. “Why?”

“This is the first time a loyal member of Sviedan Royalty will enter a city on the Borden Isles in generations,” Maelgyn pointed out. “I will not sneak into that city – indeed, I cannot, not if I hope to ever reclaim the support of its people. Instead, I will enter one of two ways: As a conqueror, with an army at my back... or as a visitor, coming to appeal to the Borden Isle Council for an end to our war. And there aren’t enough of us to be an invasion force.”

Everyone save Euleilla was startled at this. “You can’t possibly mean to do this,” Uwelain exclaimed over everyone else’s protests. “There may be some people who would support you, but if you intend to go in the front gates you would be killed on sight!”

“Your people would attack someone entering under a flag of truce?” Maelgyn asked, looking at Uwelain curiously.

Uwelain looked abashed for a moment before he hesitantly answered, “Well... I don’t think anyone, save Paljor himself, would even consider something like that. The laws and customs of war must be respected on both sides, or there can never be any hope of a resolution, good or ill.”

“In that case, I think we should go in the front gates,” Maelgyn explained. “Let’s try to do this in a way that won’t have the Borden Isles rebelling again as soon as I take a step off this island.”

In the end, the only people Maelgyn took with him were Euleilla, Ruznak, El’Athras, Wangdu, Onayari, and Baron Uwelain. Rudel and Wodtke would remain on board the Greyholden, while Sir Leno would command a small group of soldiers who would be tasked with rescuing this diplomatic party if things went poorly and they were all imprisoned. The Baron looked rather uncomfortable being part of this entourage, but that was understandable: By entering under Svieda’s flag of truce, he was essentially declaring himself a traitor to Paljor. If this didn’t work, he would – at best – be exiled from his home for the rest of his life, even if he managed to talk his way out of being executed.

Unlike the branches used when Maelgyn entry into Sopan with a Dwarven escort, this flag of truce his party carried this time was actually a flag. In contrast to the Dwarves, Human societies actually employed cloth flags, and a single plain white flag was all that they needed to show they wanted a parlay. It was a clearer symbol than the white or green branches most non-Human races preferred, and it meant fewer people would have their hands full in the case of treachery.

It might have helped the seven of them if anyone had been watching their approach. Apparently, no one had even bothered to close the castle gates – not that there weren’t guards, but they didn’t seem to care about anyone just walking on in. It felt kind of silly, marching in a formal procession under the white flag while no-one paid much attention. There were a few guards lounging around on the plaza and a couple of merchants who looked on curiously, but outside of that it was as if they were any normal group of people walking through a peaceful town. The only things which made Maelgyn feel that the appearances were deceiving were the warnings being screamed at him by Sekhar. These people were not as inattentive as it appeared.

The lack of attention was explained when they reached the front door of the Council Hall. A couple of well-armed guards stepped out before they could knock, and bowed sketchily to Maelgyn. The lead guard stepped forward. “Your Highness, we have been expecting you since we saw your ship sail past our lookout point last night. We are pleased to see you come under flag of truce, rather than with steel and battering ram.”

Maelgyn was startled. Of all possible reactions the Borden Isle government would have to his arrival, this was not one that he expected. “Well, yes. It doesn’t exactly look like you were prepared for a battle, though, had I come offering one.”

“We would have been if you were,” was all the guard would say. “I assume you’re here to petition His Majesty, Sword King Paljor?”

Maelgyn hesitated before replying, nervously rubbing his hand along the cloth band he had been using to hide Sekhar from outside view. “Actually, I hoped to speak before your Council. I’m not sure I could trust a fair hearing before Pa... before His Majesty.”

The guard looked privately amused at that. “Perhaps not. Nevertheless, your meeting will be with His Majesty, although the Council will be present as well. And I’m afraid you don’t have much choice about it, so if you would follow me?”

While it was easy enough getting into the castle, it would be much harder leaving if things got difficult, Maelgyn realized. The “inattentive” guards who had been mulling about the courtyard were now lined up in formation between the only door into the Council Chambers and the gates leading out of the castle. Said gates were now shut tight, and it would take quite a bit of effort to open them, again. If things went wrong now, there would be no easy escape.

The Council Chambers were plainer and smaller than Maelgyn had expected. There was a moderately sized open floor for petitioners, but there were only twelve chairs for the Council Seats, arranged in a row on the dais. Each Seat had an alcove behind where three or four pages could take notes, dispense advice in secret, send or receive messages between Seats, and so forth. Only eleven of the chairs were filled at the moment, and the twelfth... well, from Uwelain’s wistful expression it was pretty obvious who the twelfth belonged to.

There was also a throne, of course, on an elevated platform down center from the Council. In it sat a powerful-looking man in his mid-thirties with a dark, rich beard. He was wearing dragonhide armor, like Maelgyn himself, but that armor shone with the rich amber color of a Golden Dragon’s skin. Laid across his lap was another familiar sight – one of the Ten Swords, the royal treasures of Svieda.

So... this is Paljor,
Maelgyn mused, feeling somewhat intimidated. This man was obviously stronger, both in physical and magical ability, than Maelgyn felt he could ever be. He silently prayed that this situation could be resolved without a battle.

Another man stood to the Throne’s right, holding a gavel in front of a sturdy podium. He was the first to speak, as he hammered a strike plate at the podium for attention. “Bow before His Majesty, the Sword King Paljor of New Svieda,” he called.

Uwelain did so, as did the Council Seats, but none of the other visitors made the move. Maelgyn and Euleilla gave the same simple nod of deference they would to a fellow Sword Prince. Elves, Dwarves, and Nekoji all had their own forms of respect, but none of these involved bowing. Ruznak just snorted, never having respected the line from which Paljor sprang to begin with.

“Come, come,” Paljor called, deranged laughter unhidden in his voice. “You are visitors to my Court. Bow, friends... or perhaps you aren’t friends after all!”

Maelgyn glared at the so-called Sword King, and shook his head. “Your highness, I do not recognize your crown. I offer you the respect due a Sword Prince, no more.” He paused. “I am not here to speak with you, anyway, but rather I wish to discuss our wars with your Council.”

Paljor laughed even louder. “Oh, go ahead. Speak with the Council, if you desire. This could be amusing.”

That wasn’t encouraging, but Maelgyn forged ahead, anyway. “Gentlemen,” he said, addressing the Council. Most of the eleven Seats looked uncomfortable, but at least they seemed to be listening with an open mind. He had no idea how Paljor was behaving, however – he could place where the “Sword King” was, being able to sense him with magic, but Maelgyn’s back was to him and so his face was hidden. “I have come to appeal for an end to our civil war. I ask you to return your allegiance where it belongs – to Svieda – and to help us in an hour of great need.”

Paljor snorted. “And just why would we agree to this?”

Maelgyn paused, considering his answer carefully. He needed to bait Paljor into allowing a fair vote from the Council, at the very least... and there was one thing he could offer as that bait. Something which, theoretically, was true... although Paljor, thanks to the edict of the Golden Dragons, would never have a chance to benefit from it.

“An event has occurred that has happened only once before in Sviedan history. The Sword King of Svieda has been assassinated. While catastrophic for Svieda, the unique circumstances make this an ideal time for Borden Isle to consider rejoining us,” Maelgyn replied.

“I think some of you know the Law of the Swords as well as I. If the Sword of Borden Isle rejoins Svieda and reconquers its Castle, the Law of the Swords makes it possible for him to be crowned Sword King of all Svieda.”

There was a long pause. Not even his allies had expected him to mention that, but Maelgyn needed a carrot to offer... and the opportunity to rule all of Svieda was a pretty large carrot.

Still, while even Paljor seemed to be considering the offer at that news, there were objections. “Who cares about the rest of Svieda?” one of the Seats snapped. “We have never cared to conquer it, only to be left alone. We didn’t leave Svieda because our Sword lacked for opportunity; we left because of how the rest of Svieda treated Ivari and Laimoth! You turned your back on them, and because of that, we turn our backs on you!”

Ruznak stepped up at that. “That was a long time ago, and unless I miss my guess, none of you were even alive back then. I was, however... and I was a Borden Islander.” That elicited glares by many on the Council, both from the Seats and their staff. Those who had chosen to support Svieda in the rebellion had always been looked down upon by the other Borden Islanders. “And you know what? I agree with you. Sword Princess Ivari and Lord Laimoth were treated rottenly by Svieda. I did not think we were right in rebelling against Svieda, but I
always
felt the cause of the rebellion was just.”

The Seat who had spoken before looked both angry and confused, but decided to try and reason with the man. “Then why do you think we will change our minds, traitor? If you agree with us, then why would you even want us to?”

Ruznak straightened as much as his old bones would allow him. “For one, Svieda has changed, and I will speak to that in time. More importantly, I think you should learn what we now know – that Svieda’s hatred of Sword Princess Ivari and Laimoth was incited by those who are at war with Svieda right now, seeking to manipulate the conflict to their own ends.”

Maelgyn sensed Paljor stiffening behind them.
So,
Maelgyn thought,
He knows something.

“And you expect us to believe that?” the Seat snorted. “Or to believe that Svieda has changed? Will the lineage of our rulers suddenly be treated with the respect due them? Has it suddenly become acceptable for a commoner to marry a Sword? Who was the last commoner to marry a Sviedan royal, anyway?”

Euleilla coughed politely. “Me.”

The Seat looked abashed. “Um, well—”

Maelgyn was about to say something, but Euleilla touched his arm lightly. “This is my time to speak, husband.”

Maelgyn nodded, understanding. “Go ahead.”

Stepping forward, she addressed the council.

“Ivari and Laimoth were treated poorly, we all acknowledge, but their time is past. They were not the last pairing of nobility and commoner.
I
am of common birth, yet I also am the wife of Sword Prince Maelgyn.” She took his hand, and held it aloft. “We stand before you as living proof that Svieda
has
changed.”

“I won’t say all of the old prejudices are gone,” Maelgyn admitted. “We had some difficulty being accepted... but not as much as I feared, and most of it brought on by foreign influences. Svieda treats us more like Agaeb and Amberry than it did Ivari and Laimoth. We have learned since their time – and one of the things we have learned is that the prejudice against Ivari and Laimoth was a careful and deliberate manipulation of our politics by our enemies. The agents of Sho’Curlas sowed the seeds of discord, played to fears, and ultimately incited riots among the populace.”

“This we can prove,” Ruznak said. “We have the testimony of this Elf, and this Dwarf has the evidence to confirm it.”

“And more, besides,” Uwelain finally spoke up. “When I was contacted by the Elf, Wangdu, about this matter, I felt as you all did – that there was no way I would ever believe Svieda was innocent in the matter. Svieda has much to answer for in allowing itself to be led astray by propaganda and in making itself vulnerable to rebellion not just once, but many times. However, when I heard their testimony and saw the physical evidence he and El’Athras presented, I knew that a hidden power behind the throne of Sho’Curlas was the real enemy.”

“And we are more than willing to show that same evidence to you, we are,” Wangdu declared. “If you require more proof than just the words of one of your own Barons, you do.”

Several of the Seats looked rather curious until Paljor spoke. “You can show all the ‘evidence’ you want,” he said. “But it will change nothing. These islands will never again be a part of Svieda! We have been running this land on our own for eighty years, now, and my children and I will continue to do so until the end of time!”

Maelgyn cocked his head. “I believe, if we were to check the private family records of the line of Sword Prince Elaneth, who started the rebellion in the first place, we would find that he was also part of the conspiracy against Svieda in the first place. And that the decision to rebel had little to do with ‘Ivari and Laimoth,’ as he claimed, but rather the bribe paid to his side of the family line by Sho’Curlas, or more specifically the Mad Elf Hrabak who silently rules that Alliance.” He was completely guessing, but he felt it very likely that he was right. Paljor’s reactions were telling him that he was on the right track, even if the details weren’t entirely correct.