Prince of Wrath (44 page)

Istan said nothing. He wanted his father to shut up and go away, and leave him to behave as he wished. He looked away and spotted an arachnid slowly making its way up one of the walls. It was much more interesting than any old silly telling off. He’d had so many tellings off he no longer took notice of them.

“Istan, look at me when I speak to you!”

Istan refused to do so. He stared fixedly at the arachnid and sneered.

Astiras’s jaw worked. “Get out, all of you,” he said to the guards and Pepil, standing behind him. The three men did so quickly, not wanting to witness what they knew was coming.

Now alone with his insubordinate son, Astiras got up slowly. “I have warned you, Istan. You will not defy me, you’re getting too big for your boots. I’ll teach you to obey me as your emperor.” He took Istan by the shoulder, turned him round and landed a heavy hand on his upper leg.

Istan hissed and danced a few steps but said nothing. He still looked away, even when Astiras forced his head round. Another slap landed on Istan’s bottom, an even heavier one. The boy clutched his stinging rump and squeezed his eyes shut. It hurt a lot. He hated his father. Another whack finally got a cry out of him.

“You will not disgrace this family, Istan Koros,” Astiras said, forcing his voice through his throat. He spanked the boy a half dozen times before releasing him. “If you continue with your disgraceful attitude I’ll punish you every day. Now look at me!” he shouted.

Istan flinched and stared into his father’s eyes, his lower lip trembling, nostrils flaring. He would not cry; it was not going to happen. His legs and bottom throbbed painfully and he knew he would not be able to sit down for some time. He would find someone to punish for this.

Astiras returned to his seat. “You are to learn your lessons from Gallis. You are to attend the functions I decide you are to attend. You are to be polite, sensible and kind. I do not want bad words, spitting, face-pulling and name-calling. If you carry on with that, I shall put you in the dungeons until you change. Do you understand me, boy?”

Istan glowered at the emperor. He said nothing.

Astiras pointed a thick finger at him. “And you will address me as ‘sire’ or ‘your majesty’ from now on! If you have any plans on becoming someone important in Kastania then you’ll have to learn to fit into the existing structure. I don’t care if you like it or not – you just do it, understand? You’re going to have to change your ways, boy, or I’m going to have nothing to do with you and neither will anyone else, and you can forget about having any benefits of being in our family.”

Istan stared at his father. Did he mean he wouldn’t be emperor? He wanted to be emperor, more than anything! He wanted to be emperor so he could have his own way and put stupid Argan in a big dungeon forever. He nodded stiffly to Astrias. “Yes, sire.”

Astiras stared at Istan for a moment, taken aback. Then he cleared his throat. “Ah, well that’s better, boy. Know who your lord is, and remember that in return for your support you will get it back. And since I’m emperor, I can support you much better than anyone else! This is the way our world works. Keep that in mind! Now get to your studies; I want to see an improvement!”

Istan turned and walked stiffly off, still trying to ease his aching buttocks. He might have to wait a long time but he would get his own back on everyone who made him cross. He stamped past Vosgaris who was making his way to the emperor, and he exchanged looks with Pepil who was standing outside the door. “Trouble?”

“Nothing unusual, Captain,” Pepil said, looking as if there was a bad smell under his nose.

“I’m to see the emperor,” Vosgaris said, looking down the dark passageway at the vanishing figure of Istan, on his way to the small classroom where Gallis would be waiting.

“Yes, you’re next,” Pepil admitted, examining his parchment critically. “Follow me.”

The major domo knocked on the door and got a gruff response to enter. Pepil announced Vosgaris’ arrival and the captain edged past the courtier, thinking that there wasn’t room to perform these courtly procedures in the narrow castle of Zofela. Astiras looked up at Vosgaris who stood smartly to attention.

“Captain. I trust you’ve settled in well?”

“Sire.”

“Any problems?”

“None that can’t be sorted out with a little common sense; space is a premium, sire, but we’re getting round that problem.”

The emperor grunted. He got to his feet and looked out over the fields and hills beyond. “Captain, this is going to be a major part of our defences, therefore it must be built up to reflect that. I know the cramped conditions here are not good enough for the Court or the garrison, but I’ve set aside a pot of money to rebuild Bragal and Zofela. We desperately need to get this province back up and working efficiently very, very quickly. We have Mazag to the south and Venn to the south-east, and both could feasibly make a move on us once they realise the Bragal threat has gone. We’re seen as a far softer proposition.”

“I know, sire. My father’s reports on the supply stock in Rhan speaks of a Venn mobilisation. They’re going to move somewhere fairly soon, if my feelings are anything to go by.”

“My feeling too, damn it! we’re not ready!” Astiras whirled. “I need some damned incident in Rhan to delay them!”

“Sire?”

“An accident to their supplies. I want something to happen to all those bows, swords, ladders, arrows, packs, shoes, suits of armour. You understand?”

“Sire….. you’re asking me to send someone in to sabotage Venn’s arsenal?”

Astiras smiled, his hands behind his back.

Vosgaris cleared his throat. “Ah, I get it, sire. You won’t say anything but wish it. Very well. I’ll see what can be done.” He scratched his jaw. “Someone unexpected.”

“Whatever you do and how it is done, I don’t wish to know. I never said anything.” He changed the subject, sitting back down. “So, how is the Duras woman settling in?”

“Fine sire, but wondering what her role is now. She is not used to doing any hard work, as you may well understand, and is lonely and bored.”

“Employ her, man. Get her to scribe for you; she would have done something similar in her own family, so have her as your assistant. You need someone to keep the paperwork in order, since I’m going to want you to run the garrison here as well as keeping an eye on security. Teduskis isn’t getting any younger and I’m taking some of the responsibilities away from him. You’re going to have to step into his boots in many of his functions, understand? That means an efficient commissariat; I don’t want you bogging yourself down with paperwork when you could be doing proper work. So use Alenna to keep everything in order.”

Vosgaris slapped his left chest. He had two tasks to do; one was easy, but the other was a very sensitive and complicated one. Who could he use? He would have to think on it. Leaving the emperor, he returned to the sleeping quarters and knocked on the door of Alenna’s room. She gave permission for him to enter and Vosgaris stood in the small room looking at the girl. Alenna hadn’t enjoyed the move to Zofela but she had no idea where it would all end.

“You wanted to see me?” she asked listlessly.

“Ma’am, I’ve got a post for you here in Zofela. A permanent one.”

Alenna looked at him in surprise. “A job? For me?”

“Yes,” Vosgaris said, relaxing. “May I?” he indicated the only chair in the room. Alenna nodded and he sat in it, taking the weight off his feet with a sigh. “The emperor has suggested, and I agree with him, that the new office looking after the garrison and security needs organising. There will be lots of records to be kept, and you’re the perfect one to fill that role. It’ll even be a paid job, something I bet you didn’t expect,” he smiled slightly.

Alenna looked surprised. “You mean – I’m not to be sentenced to the mines or to death?”

“Oh, by the gods, no. Prince Jorqel was insistent enough, but wanted you away as far as possible from your family. Here in Zofela I think its as far as one can get! No, you’re to be my assistant from now on, keeping me appraised of what’s what.”

Alenna looked relieved. For too long now she’d been living under the shadow of a possible death sentence. She wasn’t sure whether confessing to the imperial family of her family’s treachery had been such a good idea after all, but what was done was done. Now it seemed she was to be forgiven and allowed to help with the infrastructure of the province. It was more than she could have hoped for. All she was still concerned about however was her proximity to the emperor, someone she was terrified of, and hearing him roaring on occasion down the corridors had scared her to death.

“Will the emperor wish to speak to me as part of my job?” she asked.

Vosgaris shrugged. “I don’t know. He speaks to me concerning my duties so I can’t see why he would bother you. All I ask is for you to make sure all the paperwork is up to date and in order. I may ask you from time to time on matters in connection with all this, so I’d be grateful if you knew straight away. It’d make my job that much easier, I can tell you.” He was keen to get at least that part of his duties sorted out. He’d had a letter from his father that morning declaring he was turning up in a few days on the way back from his latest trip to the coast in Rilyan. He was also being accompanied by Vosgaris’ sister, Vasila, a handful and a bundle of energy. She was a restless soul and never stayed with anything for very long; boyfriends, interests, hobbies, journeys or staying at home. All changed almost from day to day. Vosgaris was happy to be away from her as she drove him – and the rest of the family – mad. Father must have been unlucky to have been asked by Vasila as he prepared to set out on this latest journey at a time she had been wishing to travel, and no doubt before they’d got halfway there she had become bored and wanted to return home. Vosgaris would have to make sure she was properly entertained, although how was another matter.

Alenna looked happy. At last there was something she could do to occupy her days. She had been going out of her mind with both boredom and fear, and now both were dispelled. “Thank you, Captain,” she said, looking more relaxed in her chair. “I shall certainly do my best to make sure you’ve got an efficient office. Is there anyone else I will be working with?”

“Not at the moment, Alenna. I think you might find getting the papers into some sort of order a task in itself. I was too busy to keep a proper order and what with the recent move here things have got – muddled up,” he ended smiling apologetically.

Alenna smiled. “At least it’ll keep me occupied for once. You can’t imagine how boring it has been sitting here with hardly anyone to see me. I can only do so much reading! I must know so much poetry and the history of Kastan now, honestly.”

Vosgaris looked at the pile of books in the corner of the room. They were venerable tomes, taken from the palace library just before they had set out. They would be put in the library in the castle once a space had been found, although the chaos of the place was still stopping any definite plan for such things. “I might ask you questions then in that case,” he grinned.

Alenna smiled again. She really had a big smile, thought Vosgaris. Her snobbishness that he’d been warned about was absent and he wondered just who the real Alenna was. He would have to speak more with her and find out. “I shall take you on a tour of Zofela this afternoon in that case,” he said. “It’ll get you out of this dreary place into the sunshine.”

“Oh that’d be nice,” she said. “I’ve been ever so lonely here and it’d be nice to have the company of someone. Is it as dirty as it seems from the window?”

“Don’t be a snob,” Vosgaris said, a twinkle in his eye. “A bit of good honest dirt never did anyone any harm. It’s the real world anyway, not the false cosseted one of the upper nobility.”

“Oh yes, you’re from a minor House, aren’t you?” she said, her face showing mischief.

“Trying to pull rank on me, Alenna? I’m your boss and don’t forget it.”

“Oh? We’ll see about that, Vosgaris Taboz,” Alenna said, standing up and staring at him from two handspan’s width.

Vosgaris smiled. “I think we’re going to get along really well, Alenna, don’t you?”

Summer was at its highest when Prince Jorqel and Sannia Nicate were wed. The newly completed town of Slenna and its castle were bedecked with all kinds of bunting and flowers and the townsfolk were clearly delighted to be hosting an imperial wedding. Slenna had never before been so honoured, and this was helping to put it even more firmly on the map.

People of note came from various parts of the empire; Princess Amne even made the voyage across from Kastan City, representing the ‘family’. She said since Elas was busy running Frasia, she had the time spare and he was far too occupied to take the time out, which she was pleased with.

Jorqel was concerned about his sister’s marriage. From what Amne was saying there was little spark there and he was merely using the marriage as something of convenience to gain a step up the social ladder, but at least he was pouring his energies into running the capital and province efficiently, which even Amne had to admit he was. However, she seemed to be happier away from him and that wasn’t a good sign. It worried him.

Amne did show interest in Sannia. She had got herself a place in the castle and then went about exploring the town with her two bodyguards, Lalaas and one other man from the Palace Guard, in close attendance. Jorqel gave Lalaas a cool look as they departed, wondering whether there was something between him and his sister. Sannia stayed at her estate until the day before the wedding and had been escorted by guards to the town mayor’s residence, sited just off the new square in the redeveloped part of town. More people were coming in to live and work and the empty houses were gradually being filled.

Amne used her position to visit Sannia who was full of nerves on the eve of her big day. “Oh, so you’re the woman who has snared my brother, then,” Amne said by way of an introduction, having breezed into her room. Sannia’s two guards, at the door, were unsure as to what to do, seeing that Amne was one of the ruling House, and Sannia’s handmaiden put her hand to her mouth and curtseyed in shock.

Sannia stood up. She had been taught that good manners dictated that one normally sent a message asking for an attendance, but here was Amne boldly coming and going as she pleased. Another thought stuck her; how was she to react to the princess? Show her deference, or not? Tomorrow, socially, Sannia would outrank Amne, and so Amne would have to show deference. Common sense told Sannia to curtsey, so she did.

“Let me have a good look at you, then,” Amne said, striding forward. She was quite athletic, having ridden to the harbour at Galan, north of Kastan City, and then ridden from Efsia to Slenna. To fill her otherwise empty days, she now rode frequently, ostensibly to do something with her time, but in reality to check up on the city and province, so she could keep an eye on things herself. One never knew when such information could be of use.

Sannia stood before Amne. She was closely looked over. Amne was surprised at how young Sannia was, but acknowledged her brother had picked an attractive wife to be. A touch shorter than she, nonetheless she seemed to have presence, and by the look of her eyes, intelligence too. That was good.

“You’re not quite how I imagined,” Amne said, smiling. “You’re quite young, aren’t you?”

“But old enough to marry, ma’am,” Sannia said, not looking down.

Amne held the young woman’s gaze for a moment, then nodded. “Of course, else my brother would not look at you. Well, you’ve done well for yourself, haven’t you?”

Sannia looked over Amne’s shoulder to where Lalaas was standing, ignoring the conversation, looking round the chamber. “And this must be Lalaas,” Sannia observed, “the famous bodyguard.”

Lalaas switched his attention immediately to Sannia, looking slightly alarmed. Amne gave her bodyguard one long look, then turned back to Sannia. “Famous?”

“Of course,” Sannia said evenly, “everyone here knows of his exploits in saving your life in Bragal. It’s one of the most talked about tales – I’ve been dying to meet him, and Lalaas you’re just as handsome as the tales describe.” She fixed Amne with a sweet smile. “You’ve done well for yourself, too, ma’am.”

Amne’s face darkened. “I don’t know what you mean, Sannia.”

“He’s almost as good looking as my husband to be; I hope he doesn’t distract too many onlookers from the prince. You must get plenty of jealous looks from other women.”

The princess regarded Sannia for a moment, then smiled and turned about. “Well, I’ve spent enough time here speaking to you; enjoy your day tomorrow, Sannia. I’m sure my brother will make you happy.”

“I’m sure he will, ma’am. Thank you for visiting. You will look after the palace until I take up residence there, won’t you?”

Amne turned in the doorway, almost colliding with Lalaas. She laughed briefly, then went out. Sannia stared at the closed door for a moment, then turned to her handmaiden. “So that was Princess Amne.”

The handmaiden nodded.

“Not at all as I imagined,” the bride-to-be said, almost to herself. “Jorqel is nothing like her.” Thank the gods, she added to herself.

_____

Other visitors to Slenna included a contingent from Niake, happy to have travelled up by road free of any danger now Lombert Soul was dead and the Duras driven from the region. High Priest Burnas arrived, with a small army of attendants, demanding to be housed in the most comfortable of residences that could accommodate him and his entourage. With him arrived Demtro Kalfas and Clora, riding on their own cart pulled by a docile looking Dullard, the equine which had accompanied Clora and Zonis to the camp of Lombert Soul. Demtro had rescued the beast once the army had taken everything back to Niake, and he’d recognised his animal.

Now it was once more in his service, plodding along. The two had ridden along with the High Priest’s wagons for safety reasons, and because they were going to the same destination. Clora was wearing a light yellow summer dress, now looking relaxed and happy. The two had set their wedding in Niake for harvest week at the beginning of autumn. Because Clora was there at the express request of Sannia, she had already got a room in the same building, and Demtro had been given one along the same corridor. It would have been improper for them to have a shared room, since they were not married. They left High Priest Burnas arguing futilely with a militia captain about getting quarters for his people, and went to their respective rooms, Dullard being stabled around the back and the wagon parked against the stable walls.

Clora was soon summoned to Sannia’s quarters, and unlike Amne, Sannia was delighted to see her. Demtro decided to leave the two women to their talk – such things were of no interest to him. He was more interested in the town and any potential deal he could make, so he gave his excuses to Clora before she entered Sannia’s chamber and went downstairs and out into the warm summer day.

Sannia swept Clora up as the girl came in. “Oh, it’s so good to see you again! You look gorgeous in that yellow dress! I hope you’re going to wear that colour tomorrow!”

“Oh, well, Demtro got me a special outfit to wear for your wedding, ma’am,” Clora smiled, overwhelmed by the princess-to-be’s enthusiastic welcome. “It’s really beautiful; I hope you’ll like it.”

“Oh I’m sure I will! Now tell me, how are your plans for your wedding coming along? I’m so glad I can talk to someone else who is getting married – you really have no idea how tired I am of talking about my own ceremony! Oh, how pleased I will be once it’s done tomorrow!”

“Surely you don’t mean that,” Clora said, amazed. “Why, you’ll be the envy of every woman in town! All those young women with their heart set on the Prince being so jealous,” Clora giggled. “And it’s going to be the most beautiful ceremony, I’m sure.”

Sannia laughed at Clora’s enthusiasm. “That’s true, but honestly, I shall be glad it’s all over and I can then set about learning properly what it is I’m supposed to do once I’m a princess. Have you seen Princess Amne? She’s like a whirlwind, breezing in here and going there, with no warning at all! She was here a short time today, wanting to give me the once-over, you know.”

“The Princess? Really? Here? Oh goodness, was that scary, I mean, she’s one of the Koros, isn’t she? Is it true she’s beautiful? I hear people say she is.”

Sannia smiled and thought for a moment. To someone like Clora, one of the ruling house would be someone to be held in awe, so she had better speak of her accordingly and not with disrespect. “Oh she’s very striking – I would say she has a great deal of charisma, and would appeal to many men. Lots of bright fair hair, big blue eyes and a smile as big as a room.”

Both women giggled. They talked much of what they were to do the following day, and Sannia guided Clora through the ceremony and what her role and responsibility was. Clora admitted she was nervous and Sannia clutched her arm and reassured her everything would be fine. As Clora herself had said, Sannia would be the focal point.

So it turned out. The day of the ceremony was marked with a day of high cloud, and while it wasn’t brilliant sunshine, at least it was not raining. Slenna had never witnessed a day like it, and the town leaders nodded amongst themselves that this was the perfect occasion to bring the town’s reputation to everyone’s attention. It could only be for the good.

Jorqel stood at the temple steps, a modest building with a double pitched roof and wide stone steps leading up to the double doors which were yawning open. The small circular area inside was dominated by the altar, a small stone erection and standing before it the water bowl, a brass affair with an ornate stand.

Gavan was the groom’s escort. He was hugely uncomfortable and fidgeted persistently. Jorqel leaned over to him and advised to stop making a spectacle of himself or he’d retire him to run a draper’s shop. Gavan went pale and stood to attention. Sannia was escorted by Clora and Lord Nicate from the mayor’s residence, wearing a wormspun dress of blue, a flowered head dress and narrow, heeled slip-on shoes of white. Clora and the other bridesmaid held up her long train so that it did not drag along the unpaved streets, and they ascended the steps. Clora dared not look at Jorqel, dressed in a very smart tunic of white and blue, with what might be a small crown on his head. She felt herself blush. The man was simply stunning. She felt ashamed then, as Demtro was her man and he was all she wanted. She glanced over to where she knew Demtro was, and she saw him standing by the steps, his tall, black soft hat easily identifiable. He smiled at her and she blushed again and looked down.

The former High Priest Burnas was waiting for them, his countenance severe, as befitted a man of his position. He felt ambiguous about the entire procedure. Here was one of the family that had banished him, yet at the same time the Prince had honoured him by expressly requesting his ceremony be conducted by Burnas. Perhaps the Prince was not as bad as the Emperor. He was still disgruntled about the accommodation and would berate Jorqel about it later. Something simply had to be done to honour someone of his rank and station. The gods would not look favourably on Slenna if this was how their servants were treated.

He fixed Jorqel with a gimlet-like stare and began the ceremony. It hardly differed from that of Amne’s and Elas’, with the exception nobody tried to stab the bride. Sannia looked very young in her dress, and she was hardly any older than Clora. Jorqel looked very serious, but then it was a serious moment of his and his family’s life. This was Kastania’s future in the making, and it wasn’t a time for brevity.

There was one uncomfortable moment when Burnas, unable to resist making at least one propagandist statement, referred to the rank of High Priest blessing the couple, and Jorqel gave the man the benefit of a hard stare, but Burnas, not to be intimidated, returned it. There was an awkward moment, then Burnas broke it by declaring the two to be wed with the blessing of the gods and they turned to face the assembled people in the temple who broke out into wild applause.

At last Jorqel smiled and seemed to relax. Gavan thought that now he was married he’d do the exact opposite – or at least that’s what he himself would do, anyway. Amne applauded, her face bright with a huge smile and she leaned over to his ear. “Welcome to the ranks of the happily married, brother.”

Jorqel shot her a sharp look but she merely looked innocently at him and smiled again. Jorqel cleared his throat and turned to Sannia. “Well, darling wife, let’s go outside and receive the acclamation of the crowd.”

The enthusiasm of the crowd was overwhelming and Sannia had to clutch hold of her husband’s arm tightly to keep calm. It was very intimidating, if in a pleasant way. Flowers were thrown into the air as they slowly walked in between the people, the narrow path flanked by members of Jorqel’s Army of the West, all dressed in their best parade outfits, cleaned, polished and scrubbed until the soldiers’ hands were red.

Clora hoped that her wedding would go as well, but wondered if it would be greeted by anyone at all. She knew that one of the temples in Niake was to be used, and that the High Priest was going to officiate at that one, too. It was too incredible to think about, her, a lowly girl from the back streets of that city, actually getting married in a temple and being married by the High Priest of all Kastania! She knew that it was because she was marrying Demtro, and Demtro was the one who was friends with the cleric, and had connections with the Koros, but she wasn’t marrying Demtro because of that. No, she was marrying him because she loved him, and he loved her. Just like Sannia loved Jorqel, in fact everyone loved Jorqel because he was so handsome, and Jorqel loved Sannia. She could see it in the way they looked at each other. In fact, it was so beautiful she couldn’t help crying.