Seeker (The Source Chronicles Book 1) (43 page)

Sir Tulock went to his offices, to find Lord Norvil.  The King had included a private message for Tulock to deliver to him specifically.  Work Tulock would be pleased to do.

At least he knew his King was alive…and heading for the battlefield.  Tulock hoped fervently the King would survive.  He was a good friend, after all.  Besides, Tulock looked forward to hearing the whole story he’d just read over from Varlock-Sharron himself.

Sir Tulock Oran, Seneschal, and now Regent of Sharron, went about his duties.  Delivering good news made for a welcome change.

*****

Speaker Erlonn Broyva had just recessed the Common for the midday meal.  He was tired, and a bit nervous.  His call to Lyrra-Sharron to account before the Common was unanswered, and the arrival of Sir Garvol, Warlord, with word of the King’s current actions, left him uneasy.

              He reached his office, and sat down.  A stack of scrolls, various requests from members of the Common, were untouched.  He felt utterly distracted by the situation before him.

Erlonn Broyva was not fond of keeping secrets.  He was no spy, no opportunist, and certainly not a political strategist.  He’d not maneuvered his way to his position.  He was here by popular acclaim, unusual as that was.  To his own credit, he was still shocked at his own popularity.

Sir Garvol strolled into his office.

“Speaker Broyva,” he said with a respectful nod of his head.

“Sir Garvol,” he responded.  The man always made him nervous for some reason.

“It’s been a long time since I sat in on a Common meeting.  Are they always so tedious?” questioned Sir Garvol.

“No more so than Council meetings, I imagine,” remarked Speaker Broyva, not looking up from a scroll he was reading.

A guard knocked on the doorpost.

“Yes?” asked the Speaker.

“Speaker Broyva, a messenger from the King has arrived.  He says it is urgent that he sees you.”

“Send him in,” said Erlonn Broyva.

The guard gestured.  Another pair of guards escorted a worn-out looking travel stained man.

Sir Garvol looked quizzically at the man before them.

The Speaker gazed at the messenger closely.  He looked somewhat familiar.  “I recognize the face, but the name?”

“Baron Yarman Foltupp, Speaker,” said the man softly. 

Erlonn Broyva bowed his head briefly to his peer, but didn’t let the amazement he felt show.  The man before him was the very opposite of the reports he’d heard about the Baron.  Loud, opinionated, over-confident, self-righteous.  The man before him appeared quiet, nervous, and down-right uncertain.

“What messages have you of the King?” asked Sir Garvol, before Erlonn Broyva could speak.

The Baron took a scrip from his side, and opened it, producing several scrolls.  A guard took them, and carried them to the Speaker.  They were numbered.  He took up the first, broke the seal, and unrolled it.

“From His Royal Majesty, King Varlock-Sharron of the House of Anduin, Eleventh King of the House, Guardian of the Kingdom of Sharron, Keeper of the Keys of Justice, General-Master of the Army of Sharron, Baron of the Anduin Provinces, Second Prince of Medaelia,

Unto Speaker Erlonn Broyva of the Common of Sharron do we send Greetings.

Speaker Broyva,

              It is my pride to inform you that the Falcon Raider problem has reached a conclusion without the shedding of blood.  Instead, my daughter, Princess Lyrra-Sharron, and her companions have sworn allegiance to the Crown, and serve so directly.  Please share these scrolls with Sir Garvol, who will explain this situation in it’s entirety to the whole of the Common.  I would come to you myself were a battle not about to begin on our Medaelian border.  The following scrolls are for yourself and the Order of the Common, an explanation of the present circumstances, which are not to be fully disclosed to the whole of the Common at this time.  I will speak with you directly when the opportunity presents itself.  Finally, know that Baron Yarman Foltupp is at your direct disposal, an explanation of such does follow.  For your outstanding service to Kingdom, Crown and Common, Speaker, you will be rewarded.

                                                        Done by our hand,

                                                        Varlock-Sharron Anduin, Rex”

Below the signature, a drop of wax was impressed with the signet ring of the King of Sharron.  Speaker Broyva considered the message a moment, then offered the scroll to Sir Garvol, who took it, and began to read.  Erlonn Broyva looked at his messenger.

“What happened, Baron Foltupp?” he questioned.

The Baron looked uncomfortable, but told the tale of the Barons joining the Falcon Raiders, the presentation of the Sorcerer and the King, and all that followed, including the traitorous acts of the late Baron Tilroan.

“We were completely unaware of what he had done,” stated Baron Foltupp in conclusion.  “If we had known...if we had known, we would not have followed him.”

Sir Garvol was shaking his head.  “You must have realized that Tilroan has always been an arrogant opportunist.  What were you thinking?”

The Speaker showed agreement with Sir Garvol’s statement.  “You are lucky enough the King has spared you, your Excellency.  For now, you will be given food, a chance to clean up, and rest.  I’ll call for you when I need you.”

The Baron actually bowed to him.

“Thank you, Speaker Broyva,” stated the Baron.  He was escorted from the room.

“That was different,” commented Sir Garvol, “May I read the other scrolls, if you please?”

Erlonn Broyva shook his head.  “Not yet.  The Order of the Common gets to see them first.”

He looked towards the entranceway.  “Guard!”

“Speaker?”

“Tell the Herald to post a cancellation of this afternoon’s meeting of the Common.  Tell him to inform them we meet again in the morning.  Then, please, have the Order of the Common gather in the private hall.”

The guard saluted, and left.

“It is time I present you to them, as well, Sir Garvol,” remarked the Speaker.

Sir Garvol inclined his head respectfully.

Erlonn Broyva gathered the scrolls, and went to meet up with the other members of the Order of the Common.

The hall was a private room, where delegations, envoys, or any other small group could meet in.  Also, various committees from within the whole of the assembly could gather here.  One of many, this space of late had served as the meeting place for the Order of the Common.

Erlonn Broyva found he was not the first to arrive.  Baroness Kurrman and Lord Umar were already seated, talking quietly.  She recognized the Speaker as he arrived, but was clearly startled upon seeing Sir Garvol.

“What is going on?” she asked.

“I’ll explain when the others arrive,” replied Erlonn Broyva.

She harrumphed indignantly, and turned to the Underchronicler, ignoring them.

Lord Tamon came next, taking his place at the side of Speaker Broyva.  He threw a nervous look at Sir Garvol, then he joined in the conversation with Baroness Kurrman.  A moment later, the Archivist of the Common, Sir Brodan Cirgan, entered.  The revered Archivist was the oldest member of the Order, past eighty now, his sparse hair was completely white.  He was lean and tough, but every day he looked more old and sickly.  He glanced towards the Speaker respectfully, and to Sir Garvol as well.               

Erlonn Broyva had always liked and admired the elder statesmen, and was sad to think his tenure would be coming to an end soon. 

Finally, Garen Val-Sharron entered.  He would be the last of the Order present today, as Baron Riforr, Lawspeaker of the Common, was absent, called to Royal Commission.  The Herald acknowledged Sir Garvol, who returned the gesture.  Erlonn Broyva cleared his throat as the Herald took his seat.  Sir Garvol continued to stand, leaning against a wall, arms crossed.

“My fellow members of the order,” began the Speaker.  “As you note, Sir Garvol, Warlord of Sharron, is present with us today.  In addition, word has come to me from the King himself.”

“What this time, Erlonn Broyva?” asked Baroness Kurrman testily.  She was not best pleased with the King, and his Invocation of Royal Commission.  Since then, she’d been short with everyone, and pleasant to none.  As the highest ranked noble in the room, she generally ignored the Speaker, commoner that he was.  She was far more irksome like this.

“Word has come to me of the Falcon Raider situation,” continued the Speaker.

“Again?” remarked Baroness Kurrman with obvious irritation.  “I still object to your call for the Princess to account to us.  Were I Speaker...”

“Which you are not,” interrupted Garen Val-Sharron.  “Cease this bickering, and let the Speaker say his peace.”

Baroness Kurrman glared, but was silent.

Sir Garvol was grinning wickedly, amused to see the Order of the Common squabbling.

“Thank you,” acknowledged Speaker Broyva.  He continued.  “I called Princess Lyrra-Sharron Anduin to account on the insistence of the Crown and Council.”

“What?” exploded Baroness Kurrman again.  “And you did not tell us of this?”

“Enough!” exclaimed the Archivist.  “You have been passing insufferable for days now, Beviara.  Erlonn Broyva is Speaker, and entitled to respect as such.  Leave off, and let him finish.”

“I was made privy to information held by Crown and Council regarding the situation with the Falcon Raiders,” continued the Speaker, undaunted.  “I was asked to call her to account before us, while a trap was laid out in her path.  Her presence would thus spring that trap, and the danger she represented would be removed.”

“So the trap was sprung?”  questioned Lord Tamon.

Erlonn Broyva shook his head.  “No.  The King sought her out, and settled matters without bloodshed,” he turned to the Warlord.  “Sir Garvol, would you please fill in The Order with the details?”

“Of course, Speaker,” remarked Sir Garvol, at last taking a seat.  He gave the details of the plans that had been laid out to ensnare Lyrra-Sharron.

“So he was going to take advantage of us?” asked the Baroness, when Sir Garvol was finished “Of course, no respect for the Common.  Always contemptuous of the Common.  As per usual, the Crown disrespects our position...”

“Stop,” ordered the Speaker quietly, before Sir Garvol, Garen Val-Sharron or Sir Brodan could step in.  It took a long time, but at last Erlonn Broyva reached his breaking point.  “Remember your place, Baroness or no.  You are Chronicler of the Common.  I am the Speaker.  I might also point out, the most popular Speaker in a very long time.  You seem to forget what that means.  You made your claim to the position, and were not even considered, did not even get a nomination.  You have done your best to thwart me at every opportunity, and I will have it no more.  So cease this hostility, and mind your manners, please.”

He paused, letting that sink in. 

It was out of character for him to address anyone like that.  Even as Speaker, Erlonn Broyva had continued to be respectful to the peers.  Today he’d had enough.  Silence followed his last statement.

“Very well,” he began once more.  “We were not ‘taken advantage of’, as you would put it.  As Sir Garvol has already pointed out previously, we actually played a crucial role.  The stability of the Kingdom was at stake.  With respect, his Majesty placed us in a position of tremendous importance to the Kingdom.  These scrolls will explain everything, but the information herein does not leave the Order.  Period.”

He passed around the scrolls, save one.  He looked to Garen Val-Sharron.

“This one is for you, my friend,” he presented it to him.  Below the seal was printed the Herald’s name and office. 

Garen Val-Sharron eyed the note curiously, broke the seal, and read.

The letters were examined, and passed about.  Soon, all had been read by the entire Order, and Sir Garvol.

“Leave it to Lyrra-Sharron to be as unpredictable as her father,” commented Sir Garvol, smirking, having read the last scroll.

“Do you understand now?” asked Erlonn Broyva of the Order.

“It’s hard to believe,” remarked the Archivist.  “I hope the battle does not go badly.  I’ve lived through three Kings, now.  Varlock-Sharron is the finest the nation has seen in many generations.  Long may he live.”

Garen Val-Sharron had been quiet, staring at the table before him, but now looked to the archivist.  He gestured solemnly.

“When did you arrive, Sir Garvol?”  asked Baroness Kurrman, more calm than before.  The news of the situation had shaken her, as her husband had been called to battle.

“Yesterday,” he replied.  “I was here to keep an eye on this, and to explain it all to you, and the whole of the Common, depending on the outcome of Varlock-Sharron’s mission to his daughter.”

The members of the Order acknowledged that.

“You know what is going on.  You see what I have done.  While I have not legally overstepped the boundaries of my office, the secrecy of this mission and my role in it could become questionable.  Therefore, I want a vote of confidence right now.  If you find me unfit to continue my duties, I shall step aside,” remarked Erlonn Broyva.