Kingmaker (19 page)

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Authors: Rob Preece

BOOK: Kingmaker
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"It became time for me to claim what is mine by right,” Sergius declared—a little pompously, but with some dignity. “I've dispensed with the bishop and all of my regents. With my thanks and gratitude, of course."

Sergius had grown over the weeks since they'd pulled an arrogant and sometimes annoying punk from his palace. He'd lost that bit of pudge that had covered his muscled frame and he'd been training hard with Arnold, Dafed and the other mercenaries. He looked like Ellie's idea of a King now—handsome, yet with a thoughtful look that never left his gray eyes.

"If only I had known.” Sullivan sighed. So much bloodshed could have been avoided. I never wanted to fight you, of course."

Sergius laughed. “You want to become King, uncle. Who would blame you? Your father was King. His father was King before. And there I was, a child without much support among the nobles. If you did nothing, someone else would become king. And where would that leave you?"

"I'm afraid you're right. My alliance with Harrison is one of expedience rather than reality. Sooner or later, he'd move to destroy me."

"But now, it seems that I'll destroy you first."

Sullivan waved a hand at the army encamped on his side of the river. They were digging in, much as Sergius's army had fortified itself. “You defeated me in front of Dinan. You and your mages made a fool out of me, trapped me as neatly as a weasel traps a rat. But do you really think you can beat this army? My mages won't be fooled a second time. Soon, you'll run low on food while my supply lines remain open. I have only to outwait you."

Sergius shrugged. “I've more than made up the casualties I suffered in the battle at Dinan. The longer I wait, the more barons flock to my banner. With the barons come the fruits of their lands. For many, the Battle of Dinan proves that I am my father's son. And few would bet on Sullivan against the Fell Prince."

Sullivan's smile didn't look real but he gave it his best shot. “It seems that we have a stalemate. You can't defeat me, but the two of us could tear at each other, doing so much damage that Harrison and his Rissel allies could have nothing to do but pick up the pieces. Like a jackal on a wounded wolf."

"What about
your
Rissel allies?” Ellie demanded.

Sullivan's eyes widened as he looked at Ellie. “I had wondered why you brought a lad to our council. So this is the famous witch-princess?"

Ellie glared at him. Lubica women wore elaborate gowns that were impractical for anything and impossible for riding or practicing martial arts. So she stuck with her blue jeans or local trousers. Right then, she was wearing jeans and a loose tunic that was something like a martial arts gi. It wasn't exactly flattering that all of the hunky guys mistook her for a boy, but it had its practical uses. Lubica wasn't exactly liberated.

Sullivan met her stare but gave up after a moment. “Interesting. In answer to your question, witch-princess, the Rissel favor Harrison and not me. He's married to a Rissel princess, after all. They bring me aid, but demand money for it. And after you destroyed several of their ships in the Dinan harbor, they became even less happy with me."

"Very touching,” Sergius said. “But so far you've sent two armies against me and I destroyed both of them without much loss to myself. You may not believe that I can defeat you, but you're wrong. I'll destroy your army, then pick up its remains and use that to defeat your brother."

Sullivan stared at Sergius's encampment, his blue eyes assessing its strength.

"Why would you want to do that, nephew? Why must we fight when I'm ready to swear my allegiance and join in the battle to rid the nation of Harrison and the evil Rissel?"

* * * *

Dinan threw open its gates.

Sergius's army marched in to the cheers of the city and the respectful silence of its garrison.

Ellie knew how close their army had come to complete defeat. Mark's trap had been brilliant, but it had worked largely because Sullivan's troops had been surprised had and panicked. Even then, the light cavalry charge had nearly broken the trap—not to mention getting her, Mark, and Sergius killed.

If Sullivan had used the remains garrison to attack again after the army had really marched away, his initial plan would have worked perfectly. Even that battered garrison could have overwhelmed the weak guard left on the camp and come up behind them. With Sullivan's intact field army on one side of the bridge and the garrison behind them, Sergius would have been destroyed.

But their victory at the gates of Dinan had done more than kill a number of Sullivan's soldiers. They'd put a scare into the soldiers. It turned out that Sullivan had ordered them to sally again and the garrison had mutinied against the order. Thanks to Mark's plans, and thanks to Robert E. Lee, Sergius had begun to develop a reputation as the successor to his deadly father.

So Sullivan had decided to change his play—to become kingmaker, to gain what he could by swallowing his pride and joining Sergius. After all, Sergius was still young and could be manipulated. Sullivan would have plenty of time to plot later. And Sergius was still unmarried and childless. Sullivan was next in line to the throne as long as his older brother, the Duke of Harrison remained in rebellion.

It didn't take magic to read Sullivan's thoughts. He cared about only one thing—his own survival. For now, at least, latching onto Sergius seemed the best option. Between Mark's tactical insights, the strength of their combined armies, and the increasing number of barons throwing their support behind Sergius, Ellie thought Sullivan was making a wise choice.

As the days went by without Sergius making his announcement of a parliament for the people, Ellie wondered if
she'd
made such a wise choice in throwing her lot with him. Not that she'd had a great number of options. She'd given up her plans for revenge for her parents and replaced it with the goal of helping the people of this nation. Could it really be that she'd get nothing for her efforts?

She confronted Sergius as he, his uncle, and the increasing clutter of nobles, priests and clerks headed for a celebratory dinner two weeks after their arrival in Dinan.

"Ah, the witch princess again.” Sullivan turned on his charm like a lightbulb. “Will you sit beside me tonight?"

"Perhaps.” She wasn't naive enough to believe that Sullivan wanted her charming company. The man was a hunk on the outside, but on the inside he was a human calculator, looking only to find advantage. If he wanted to spend time with Ellie, it was because he thought it could help him.

"I wonder if I could have a moment, Your Majesty?” Although they'd been casual on the campaign, things had become a bit more formal since Sullivan had joined them. Her friend, Baronet Arnold continually reminded her that she could catch more flies with honey than with the martial arts.

"Certainly,” Sergius said. “I'll always make time for the princess who came out of time to prove my cause and who, not incidentally, saved my life."

He spoke loudly enough to be heard everywhere and Ellie supposed she should be grateful. In the semi-medieval environment, praise from a King was important. It opened doors, made others listen and obey. Whoever has the ear of a King is a power regardless of their social standing. Which was exactly why she was so intent on pushing her parliament idea.

Sergius made brushing motions to the courtiers who surrounded him and they grudgingly backed away. A few weeks ago, access to
this
King had meant nothing. But now, when it looked like the united forces of Sullivan and Sergius might prevail, proximity had become precious.

"We had a deal, Your Majesty,” Ellie reminded him. “We capture Dinan and you'd announce the formation of a parliament for the people as well as for the nobility. It's been two weeks since Mark and I kept our part of the deal."

Sergius nodded seriously. “Believe me, Ellie, I haven't forgotten my promise. I'm still looking for the right time. If we'd defeated Sullivan's main army in battle, that would have been the occasion. Since we parlayed rather than conquering, I'm not as strong as I hoped to be. The barons are shifting to me, but they will back away if I push too hard on their ancient privileges. We need an event, another victory that will make me unassailable. If I lost the Barons, I'd lose Sullivan. And then I'd be back where we started."

He clapped Ellie on the shoulder and insisted that she sit next to him at the banquet—and she realized that he wasn't that different from his uncle.

Chapter 12

The bishop, carrying the keys to the capital, came to Dinan a few days later. He groveled, attempted to ingratiate himself to Sergius, and ordered Lawgrave back to Moray.

He didn't have many soldiers to offer, maybe five hundred men in the Moray city guard, but control of the capital was important.

With the south firmly in the hands of Sergius, Sullivan, and their allies, tax revenue had started to come in again. The Rissel were antagonistic, but merchants were merchants. Dinan harbor bustled with ships carrying military supplies, foodstuffs, and luxury goods—and the King claimed his ten percent on everything.

Ellie and Lawgrave had crowned Sergius in the field with the support of the army. It was a valid tradition. Something that the Roman Emperors of Ellie's universe would have understood and something that Ellie's long-dead blood-father Mucius might have experienced. But it was a tradition that was largely forgotten in Lubica. A ‘real’ coronation, in the great Cathedral, would please the people, give the Barons a chance to show off their wives and, even more importantly, introduce their daughters to the handsome and single King. Best of all, it would cement the reality that Harrison's claims to regency status were bogus.

Two months before, Ellie and Dafed had snuck into the city and kidnapped the wanna-be King. Now, they marched in, led by trumpets. Then, the city had slumbered. Now, it seemed that the entire city was on the streets, cheering as the King, the army, and the Barons made their way to the cathedral. Then, the King had been an uncrowned token in the game of thrones, while Ellie had been the bishop's miracle of the day. Now, the King was regarded as a fitting son of his father, the Fell Prince. And Ellie had become the Rissel's
bete-noire
.

The gray stone of Moray's city walls gleamed in the sunlight, and brightly colored banners hung from every guard tower. The dozens of parish churches scattered through the city echoed the cathedral bells. Even the stench of human waste in a medieval-technology city with limited sewer resources had been reduced by a heavy rain that had fallen the day before Sergius had arrived and then cleared to bright sunlight.

Sergius marched with the army.

He had learned a lot in the weeks since Ellie had kidnapped him. But the most important lesson was to remember who had put him in power. The Barons had made a token effort. Arnold and his fellow knights were evidence of that. But most of that support was second or third sons—insurance while the nobility had banked their main hopes with either Sullivan or Harrison. The army had won the kingdom for Sergius.

Behind the army, the Barons and their families rode. Following them, the guildmasters and master craftsmen of the city marched, picking their way through the horse manure left behind by their ‘betters.’ A lot of the ordinary citizens tagged along afterwards although there would be room for few of them even in the vastness of the Moray Cathedral.

* * * *

Ellie had never been to Europe and had only seen pictures of the Gothic Cathedrals there. Those photos didn't begin to prepare her for the shear opulence of this huge church. Its doors were gold—whether solid or leaf-coated, she couldn't tell. A vast dome was also gilded with gold. And each of the thousands of statues of saints and angels was painted with sparkling color.

The constantly ringing bells were an almost solid presence, their vibrations shaking the ground as the procession approached the cathedral.

Sergius tossed his horse's reins to a waiting baron, then leapt down from his horse and clasped his uncle's arms.

The army cheered as Sergius climbed the steps of the cathedral, then turned to face them. His golden hair streamed long behind him and his tunic showed off the hardened muscles two months in the saddle had added to his frame.

He raised his muscled arms over his head letting the applause swell, basking in the moment, and then he lowered his arms, abruptly cutting it off.

"You have made me King and I shall be
your
King, the army's King,” he promised, his battlefield voice cutting through the crowd. “After the coronation, your Sergeants will distribute a gold coin to every soldier in the army. For those of you who joined when all seemed lost, the band of brothers who marched from this city with me two months ago, two gold pieces only begins to express my gratitude. Enjoy my city, your city, but please don't destroy it. I'll need it if I'm to continue to provide you with this kind of reward."

The army loved Sergius's praise, but his money was even more welcome. Ellie hadn't realized the tax situation was so good although, of course, Sergius might have hit up the bishop for a loan. The church looked rich enough to support three armies the size of Sergius's.

After five minutes of solid cheering, Sergius proceeded into the church followed by the army sergeants, the priests, and then the nobility and the city's elite.

"Excellent speech,” Ellie whispered to the King as he strode past her toward the altar. “Too many leaders forget the people who put them in power—and find that the army is willing to back someone else who won't forget them."

"I don't forget my friends,” Sergius promised. “Or my enemies."

Sergius had said he was waiting for an event to announce his formation of a parliament of the commons and Ellie didn't think you could get much more event-like than this so she reminded him of his promise.

He smiled at her. “I've been discussing this with my advisors. It is nearly time. Once I've been crowned and the Barons swear fealty, I'll hit them with it. With support from the army, the nobles, and the people, no one could assail me."

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