Indomitus Vivat (The Fovean Chronicles) (19 page)

     At least
that
went as planned.

     Groff, of course, rated an invitation to dinner that night.  We sat him at the King’s left hand, where an Oligarch usually sat, and scooted the Oligarch down three seats to be next to his eldest son.  Groff attended with his wife, and had tried to bring his own guard in as well.

     “Your man J’her is an excellent officer,” Oligarch two commented to me.  “He had Duke Groff believing he’d be safer without them.”

     I nodded.  “Thank you,” I said. I needed to learn his name some day.  “It was a pleasure to elevate him, and I see great things for his future.”

     “Has he been with you long?”

     I opened my mouth to answer, to be interrupted with, “I know where it is, damn your ass,” from down the hall.

     “Of course, your Majesty,” Oligarch one told him.

     “But perhaps you would like to go this way first?” Oligarch four added.

     A moment later, Glennen rounded the corner to the main hall and saw Oligarch two and
me waiting for him at the door.  He had on clean clothes and someone had shaved him and combed his hair, at least, but a yellow stain of mead had already marked the front of his blouse, and I could still smell the pee on him as he approached.

     “Your Majesty,” I said, lowering my head to him.  He barked a laugh and slapped my shoulder.

     “Where are th’ kids?” he demanded, looking past me to the door.    

     “Within, awaiting you, per your custom, your Majesty,” Oligarch three said.

     “Well, are we going in, or what?” he asked.

     Oligarch two rapped the door, and two Wolf Soldiers within opened it.  They stood at attention and announced, “His Majesty, King Glennen Stowe, of Eldador!”

     Glennen staggered in, bumped into a Wolf Soldier, then into the back of one of the barons’ chairs, pushing him into it.  The embarrassed baron scrambled to stand back up as Glennen used the backs of the chairs from there to his seat at the head of the table to support himself as he took his place.

     He sat before I and the Oligarchs could find our positions, so we scrambled into them as the rest of the guests sat.  Groff raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

     “Mead!” Glennen demanded.  A porter brought him a bowl immediately.  I refused any and took water instead.  Shela had a small glass.

     Glennen drank from his bowl, then held it out to be refilled.  He looked owlishly around the table, then his eyes landed on Shela, or rather her chest.

     “How have you been, lil’ girl?” he asked, a grin on his face.

     “I have been well, your Majesty,” she said, looking down demurely.

     “Still with this great oaf of a man?”

     She smiled.  “I prefer him,” she said.

     Glennen looked at me.  “I need to send you as my emissary to Andoran to get me one of these,” he told me.  His breath reeked from rotting teeth and booze.

     “Perhaps if we let it be known that you prefer Andaran females,” I said to him, “then they will come to you as is befitting a King.”

     He grinned to himself.  “Yes, that is good,” he said, and took a long drink of his mead, spilling a portion of it down his shirt. 

     The servants brought the platters, and everyone adjusted himself or herself to let them pass.  There were two females, but both stayed at the far end of the table. 

     “You, girl, come here,” the King called.  Groff, I believe, caught the look of dread on her Uman face.  She curtsied and brought her platter to the King, for him to choose from.

     She unwisely held it at the level of her stomach, which of course let him get a clear shot as her breasts.  He reached out with a hand greasy from the meat he handled and gave the left one a good squeeze.

     “Ah, there you go, girlie,” Glennen rasped.  She blushed crimson and made another mistake and turned instead of backing away.  He took a handful of her backside through her skirt, making her squeal, as she tried to escape and clobbered the back of Groff’s head with the tray.

     “Your Grace, I am so sorry,” she said.

     “You are pardoned, of course, my dear,” Groff said, placing a hand on her waist to guide her to his other side, where Glennen couldn’t get a shot at her.  “Please, if you would set your platter down here.”

     “Oh, you don’t have to take that from these Uman,” Glennen snarled.  “Girl, you apologize to Duke Groff.”

     “I apologize most humbly, your Grace,” she said.

     “From your knees, girl,” Glennen demanded.

     “Your Majesty, that is
not
necessary,” Groff said, shocked at the idea.

     “Oh, ho!  Y
er telling me now,” Glennen said, slamming down his bowl of mead.  The spray from it showered Groff and his wife.  “I s’pose you think yer King now?”

     “Your Majesty,” Groff said, “you know that my loyalty is –“

     “Your loyalty,” Glennen interrupted him, “is and has always been to what suits Groff.  Do you think I forgot about when you left me in the Aschire forest?  Turned tail?  Ran away?”

     “Your Majesty, I did
not
,” Groff began.

     “And now you call me liar?” Glennen demanded.  The rest of the table sat quiet now.  Glennen normally had a temper, but Glennen drunk and challenged might do anything.

     Glennen’s eyes found the girl, already on her knees, and he pointed his finger at her.  “What are you doing?” he demanded.  “Don’t do that here!”

     She arose, held her hands in front of her, and looked down as demurely as possible.

     “Lupus!” Glennen roared.  “Where is he, damn him!”

     “Right here, your Majesty,” I said, from the first chair to his left.

     He turned as if I had popped out of the air.  “Lupus, Rancor, whatever yer calling yerself,” he said.  “I want you to take this liar out and cut his head off.”

     “Cut his head off, your Majesty?”

     “You heard me,” he said.  “You torture people around here all th’ time.  You think I don’t know it?  If I tell you to cut someone’s head off, you cut it right off, damn you!”

     I nodded.  “Shall I do it now, or after dinner?” I asked him.

     “Well, are you hungry now?” he asked.

     “I could eat,” I said.

     “Damn you, Lupus, I have to do all of the thinking here.  What use is having you as Heir?

     “Eat, let him have his last meal, then take him out and kill him.”

     I nodded.  “Very well, your Majesty.”

     Groff looked at me, alarmed.  I met his eyes, then shook my head slightly, and went back to my meal.

     His wife had been so flustered she could barely keep her seat.  I hoped that it didn’t occur to Glennen that she would soon be available.

     Dinner went no differently from its beginning.  The food came slowly because the female servants weren’t helping.  Glennen grumbled about that, how slow the mead flowed, and how hard his life had become.  Tartan tried to ignore him and talk to Groff’s son.  The court barons avoided conversation of any kind, and
Hectar, who had been warned and not brought his family, only leaned over and talked to Groff once.

     Dinner ended with a final round of drinks for all of us.  Glennen wanted to tell some story that seemed to be about four Aschire and a whore, but he kept losing his place in it.  After ten minutes he took a
long swig from his bowl, fell out of his chair and puked all over Groff’s boots.

     Six Wolf Soldier guards and an Oligarch removed him from the hall while the Court Barons beat a hasty retreat and the rest of us pretended nothing was wrong.

     “Your Grace,” I said to Groff, finally, “would you be so kind as to accompany my wife, Duke Hectar and I to another room?”

     “I would be honored, your Highness,” he said.  He patted his wife’s hand and motioned for his son to follow.  A
n exiting court baron, seeing that I clearly didn’t intend to kill Groff, took the opportunity to offer to escort Groff’s wife back to her apartments.

     We walked quietly back to the throne room and from there to an anteroom where guards often waited in attendance.  Shela lit its one torch, hanging in a wall sconce, and I leaned against the back of one of its four chairs, while the other men sat at the table and Shela stood behind me.  Oligarch one had joined us uninvited while the other three attended to the King.

     “Your Highness, shall I fetch your sword?” Hectar asked me.

     Groff looked sideways at him.

     “He almost earned the pointy end of it this morning,” I said.  I met Groff’s eyes directly.  “What were you thinking at court?”

     “I had come to see the King,” he said, lamely.

     “Do you think we have him at court in his condition?” Hectar asked.

     “I am surprised you have him at table,” Groff said.

     “He’s still the King,” I said.  “If he wants to eat at dinner, he eats at dinner.”

     “Mostly, he wants to drink until he pukes, rape servants and tell us how hard his life is,” Hectar said.  “You will make an enemy of me if you pursue your intentions with Lupus here.  I do not want his job, and I think you don’t, either.”

     “What intentions?” Groff said.

     “Hiring the Free Legion to help you break off from Eldador?” Hectar said.

     “You could not have believed that they would not report that to a fellow member,” the Oligarch said.

     “They approached –“ Groff began, then looked at Shela, who smiled at him.

     I wouldn’t have needed her for that one.

     “The Free Legion doesn’t go out to
sell their services,” I said.  “They receive requests for employ.”

     “Yerel was a friend,” Groff said.  He looked at Hectar, then at the Oligarch, then at me.

     “Yerel, Hectar and I have been with Glennen since before Eldador was a wild land,” he said.  “I owe my life to him, and he to me, more times than I can count.”

     “Don’t forget that Glennen ordered this newcomer to shorten you less than two hours ago,” Hectar said.

     “And Yerel wasn’t paying his taxes,” I said.  “He used the money instead to grow his army.”

     “Clearly, the man was about to revolt,” the Oligarch said.  “I must be emphatic with you, your Grace, that the nation of Eldador can survive a drunken king, but not the loss of its major cities.”

     “Under Glennen, I was free to pay my taxes when I chose, if I chose, and to renegotiate them,” Groff said.  “Now comes this man, and I am supposed to pay on a new schedule, no talk about it, as some lackey.”

     “And under this man,” Hectar said, “my duchy isn’t supporting the entire Eldadorian nation, the troops are paid on time, we can cross the Straights of Deception as we chose, and can actually build a navy worth a damn.”

     “And let us not forget,” the Oligarch added, “that the schedule that you desire, you would never consider for those in your fealty.”

     That quieted Groff down.

     “What I propose is two-fold,” I said.  I turned slightly, so that they could all see my face.

     “First, no more actions against the Eldadorian nation, and you pay your taxes on time, and in the amount agreed upon.”

     Groff looked at me directly, waiting for me to continue.  When I didn’t, he nodded his head slightly.

     “Second, Alekennen is of a marriageable age, and I propose there is none better than your son.”

     “You wish to make my son the Heir?” Groff asked.

     I shook my head.  The Oligarch said, “The
Heir is named, your Grace.  Even were he not, it would fall to Tartan then Terran before Alekennen’s husband.”

     “However, it ties your family to the name Stowe, and the name Stowe’s prestige shall survive past this King, regardless of who succeeds him,” I said.

     “Your word on that?” Groff said.  “Because it would be more expedient for you to succeed and then to name them all commons, and then there is my son in a useless marriage.”

     “My word,” I said.  “No less than a duchy for Tartan.  I don’t know about Terran, but some nobility.”

     “Hectar, you are well with this?” Groff asked him.  “Your son is younger than mine, but not much.”

     “He has two daughters,” Hectar said.

     Groff smiled, and Hectar added, “And let us not forget Lee.  Who knows where I will set the boy’s ambitions?”

     My stomach contracted when I thought of marrying Lee off, but I just laughed and put my hand on Hectar’s shoulder.

     Groff looked at his son.  “You are well with this, lad?”

     “I am, father,” he said.  “She is a comely girl, her name is good, her father is healthy, if unstable.  When she gives me sons, I will teach them not to drink.”

     “Probably best,” I said. 

     I wanted to discuss more about troop limits and to arrange for him to meet
Duke Jaheff, when the door burst open behind us.