Warrior King, page 14
“There’s more,” said Alexandra. “We learned that the Temple Commander visited several notable people in Harlingen prior to his departure.”
“Members of the Church?” asked Ludwig.
“No, influential merchants, for the most part, which is what makes it all the more disturbing. We’re keeping an eye on them, just to be safe.”
“A wise move.”
“Do you think the timing was intentional?” asked Merrick. “Could he have waited for you to leave so he could intimidate the queen?”
Alexandra laughed. “If that was his plan, he failed miserably.”
“True, but there is a common misconception that a queen is weaker than a king.”
“Come to think of it,” said Gita, “he did act deliberately antagonistic.”
“That suggests he arrived in Harlingen some time before his audience,” said Ludwig, “so he would’ve had to know I’d left.”
“Not necessarily,” said Father Vernan. “I agree he was likely here in the capital for a while and that he thought he could intimidate the queen, but members of the Church are often patient people, willing to wait when necessary. I suggest he would’ve waited even longer had you not travelled south. It takes years to build a commandery; what does it matter if the request is delayed a few months?”
“Here’s a thought,” said Alexandra. “If our suspicions were true, wouldn’t that suggest they know about the king’s communications with Temple Commander Charlaine?”
“I’m not following,” said Gita.
“If we knew nothing about the treachery of the Cunars, their request would’ve been granted without another thought. Yet this Temple Commander specifically waits until the king is absent and then tries to bully his way into court, making demands of the queen. That indicates he believed His Majesty would refuse his offer.”
“This is all speculation at this point,” said Ludwig, “but I shall certainly take that possibility into consideration, although I can’t see how. The courier we use is a member of the smiths guild, and the letters are sealed with a phoenix ring.”
“Could the courier have been turned?” asked Merrick.
“I think that’s highly unlikely, but there is another method by which they could’ve learned about my distaste for the Cunars.” He looked around the room as the servant who’d refilled their cups left. He nodded at the door. “The Royal Keep employs many servants. It wouldn’t take much effort for them to listen in on our discussions.”
Merrick looked around the room. “Are you suggesting there’s a spy in our midst?”
“Yes, possibly several, in fact. When I became king, I granted amnesty to any who served Morgan, including members of the Royal Household. In light of what we’ve discussed, I think it’s someone on the inside leaking information to outsiders. Furthermore, those merchants whom this Temple Commander spoke to are likely funding the effort.”
“The question now,” said Gita, “is what we do about it.”
“Shall I begin by questioning each member of the staff?” asked Merrick.
“No,” said Alexandra. “Do that, and word will quickly spread that we’re on the hunt for spies. We’d be better to…” Her voice trailed off as the servant returned with a fresh bottle. They made small talk as glasses were topped up, and then the servant left.
“As I was saying,” Alexandra continued, her voice now quieter, “we can use this knowledge to our advantage.”
Merrick grinned. “You mean to spread false rumours?”
“It’s worth considering.”
“I like it,” said Ludwig. “But from now on, we’ll take care to guard our privacy when discussing important subjects.”
“That’s easy enough,” said Gita. “We’ll pick a room and only allow food and drink to be brought in when we begin.”
“And if they listen at the door?” asked Alexandra.
“We’ll post guards unless you’re accusing Captain Gustavo of being the spy?”
“No, I trust him,” said Ludwig. “I’ll leave you lot to make all the appropriate arrangements. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to look in on my wife.”
Everyone stood.
“It feels like, ever since I became king, I’ve dealt with nothing but problems. I am, however, thankful for the advice and counsel from each and every one of you.” With that, he left.
* * *
The next few weeks proved busy ones for Ludwig. Merrick completed his compilation of the laws of Hadenfeld, and now they required the king’s approval. Not one to shirk his duty, Ludwig insisted on reading the completed tomes himself, not the easiest of tasks, considering the sheer number of laws.
As a baron, he’d naturally assumed that the land was governed at the whim of the nobles. He understood that theft, murder, and the like were illegal but had neglected to educate himself on the finer points of the law. Now that he was king, however, he truly appreciated how the wording of a particular law might be misconstrued if not given a precise definition.
When Charlotte was up to it, she helped. Her mastery of writing was most advantageous, and her influence was keenly felt, so much so that on those days when she was coping with another episode, he postponed the work rather than carry on without her input.
On a warm autumn day, Frederick was showing his father a handful of leaves that he’d collected, their brilliant colours a sure sign the season was well underway. Ludwig cherished his moments with his son, yet the responsibility of being king always seemed to cut his time short, and today promised to be no exception as Father Vernan rushed into the room, his breathing laboured, sweat rolling down the sides of his red face.
“Whatever is the matter?” asked Ludwig.
The Holy Father took a moment to try to catch his breath. “The Antonine,” he gasped. “They’ve chosen a new Primus.”
“Good for them.”
“Perhaps, but not so much for us. I’ve learned he’s a former Temple Knight of Saint Cunar.”
“Not Amarand, I hope?”
“No. Someone named Wilmar: at least that’s the name he took when he was appointed.”
“He changed his name?”
“Is that so strange?” asked Father Vernan. “There are many a king in the Petty Kingdoms who adopted a new name after being crowned.”
“I suppose there is, now that I think of it. Has this ever happened before? Choosing a member of a fighting order, I mean.”
“Not that I’m aware of. However, custom dictates that upon becoming Primus, the individual gives up membership in their previous sect. However, Temple Knights take oaths of lifetime service, except for Saint Agnes, as they’re permitted to leave at any time.”
“I don’t suppose we know the previous name of this new Primus?”
“I’m afraid not,” said Father Vernan. “Although, it’s rumoured he served as a Temple General, or was it Father General? I can’t quite remember.”
“What’s the difference?” asked Ludwig.
“Father General is a position rather than a rank and is typically assigned when a portion of the Holy Army goes on campaign.”
“Wouldn’t that be the Temple General’s duty?”
“If the entire Holy Army marched, most certainly, but historically, that seldom happens. There was the Battle of Alantra, which was commanded by Temple General Marius. I believe I mentioned him to you previously. In any case, that has no bearing on this piece of information.”
“This doesn’t sound like good news for Hadenfeld.”
“I don’t think it is,” said Father Vernan. “It means there’s a much greater chance of Temple Commander Amarand bringing our rebuke to the attention of the Council of Peers.”
“And would they be inclined to support an action that sought to punish us?”
“I would say so. You must remember, the Primus is elected by the patriarchs of all six orders. Obviously, Primus Wilmar received enough votes to get elected, so it only stands to reason he has the council’s support.”
“Is his election a lifetime appointment?”
“No. The Primus serves for five years, although it’s often the custom for them to continue on for more than one term, should the Council of Peers choose.”
“Then perhaps this entire affair will fade into history?”
“I doubt it. Primus Wilmar is relatively young for a Primus, which bodes ill for any thoughts that he might serve only one term.”
“Are you saying that age is the only reason a Primus wouldn’t be re-elected?”
“Age or physical infirmity. A number died in office over the centuries, but they were all of advanced years.”
“People die of disease or sickness all the time,” said Ludwig.
“True, but being a former Temple Knight suggests he’s still in fine health. It’d be folly to think he might suddenly sicken. I’m afraid we’re stuck with him for the time being.”
“You don’t appear to hold much trust in the Church.”
“I’m not enamoured of those high up in the hierarchy, if that’s what you mean.”
“Are you now doubting your faith?”
“My faith, no, merely my supervisors. Archprior Hywell is a decent fellow, but if you recall, his predecessor made quite the spectacle at Morgan’s coronation.”
“Yes, I remember. He was bedecked in gold and jewels.”
“Not the most fitting attire for an order devoted to humility and modesty. Unfortunately, I’ve noticed an increase in such displays in the last few years, even amongst my fellow Holy Fathers. It is, I fear, an indication our faith is lessening as personal wealth and comfort increasingly become more prevalent.”
“Even amongst the fighting orders?”
“You’d have to ask Temple Captain Hamelyn to be absolutely certain, but I suspect there’s little danger of it, considering their strict discipline and adherence to their own rules of conduct.”
“Do you think this attitude is limited to the Church, or is it growing amongst the people of the Petty Kingdoms?”
“That’s an interesting question,” replied Father Vernan. “Certainly, society as a whole has changed significantly since the Church’s early days, but I think there’ve always been those who seek influence and fortune. Even your predecessor flaunted his wealth, though thankfully, you’ve taken a more modest approach to ruling.”
“I could do more.”
“You are still a king and, as such, must present an image of strength and power. There is also a fine line between being modest and presenting yourself as a pauper, one which you’ve navigated quite effectively.” He paused a moment. “My apologies, Majesty. We’ve strayed significantly from the topic of conversation.”
“As we often do,” replied Ludwig, “but I appreciate the diversion. Now, getting back to this new Primus for a moment, what do you suggest we do?”
“There’s little we can do. We both agree that the queen made the right decision in disallowing the building of a commandery. We must pray that Amarand’s superiors choose to let the matter rest rather than make things worse. Do you think otherwise?”
“I do. Don’t get me wrong, Charlotte made the right decision, but now we must live with the consequences. When was this new Primus named? It couldn’t have been because of us, could it?”
“No. The election was held while Amarand was still in Harlingen; it simply took time for the news to reach us. Not long ago, Hadenfeld would’ve been one of the first realms to hear such news, but I fear our standing amongst the Petty Kingdoms has fallen significantly these last fifty years or so. That’s not your fault; it’s a problem you inherited when you were crowned king.”
“I couldn’t care less if Hadenfeld is considered important or not,” said Ludwig, “provided my subjects can live in peace.”
“Yet you’d march to war if the occasion demanded it.”
“Of course! To do otherwise invites our neighbours to take advantage of us.”
“Yes, but you’ve surrounded us with allies. Even Zowenbruch has agreed to keep the peace, thanks to your efforts as prince.”
“There’s still so much to be done, yet it feels as though we’re heading in the right direction. I don’t want to merely rule; I want to make things better for my subjects. Is that madness?”
“Not at all,” replied Father Vernan. “The actions you’ve taken so far would make Saint Mathew himself proud were he here.”
“Isn’t pride a sin?”
“Only when taken to excess. As he once said, ‘Take pride in your work even if others fail to see its value but beware the sin of conceit.’”
“I shall endeavour to keep that in mind, going forward.”
“I know you will. Now, I’ve interrupted your time with your son, and for that, I apologize most profusely.”
“Thank you for bringing this to me,” replied Ludwig. “It’s not the greatest of news, I grant you, but at least we’re now aware and can prepare accordingly.”
“And how do we prepare?”
“By offering prayers that we have enough time to rebuild the army.”
14
Envoy
Autumn 1105 - Spring 1107 SR
Autumn’s red leaves were covered by snow early that winter, and the blanket of cold lasted far longer than in past years. The warmth of the spring sun was welcomed by all, and the hustle and bustle of a town coming out of hibernation permeated the city. If trouble was brewing, no sign of it could be seen in Hadenfeld, and life went on, oblivious to what might be happening within the halls of the Antonine.
The scorching heat of summer came early, and with it, news that Mirantha and Hollenbeck had finally located the sky metal. Enquiries were sent off to the Elves of the Goldenwood, and then the matter fell from memory as more important issues demanded Ludwig’s attention.
The Temple Knights of Saint Mathew’s commandery officially opened that autumn, although much of the interior work was still to be completed. Ludwig and Charlotte toured the building, curious about its layout. Like all commanderies, the Temple Captain’s office faced west, towards the Holy City of Herani, while the interior halls had fittings for doors to segregate the building should an enemy gain access to its halls. The doors would be heavily reinforced and capable of being locked, but had yet to be constructed.
The Archprior of Saint Mathew consecrated the building, and then, instead of a feast, everyone was encouraged to donate funds to the Mathewite mission, which helped the sick and poor of Harlingen.
The icy winds of winter came once more, and the kingdom, having prospered from record harvests, ensured that pantries and bellies alike were filled. The work of codifying the laws of Hadenfeld into two volumes had been completed the year before, but the scribes were still labouring to make copies.
By spring, the leader of every town and village across the realm held the law of the land in their hands, and it felt as though a golden age had begun. The kingdom had settled into a time of peace and prosperity.
The arrival of an envoy from the Church in the form of Archprior Ramone reminded everyone that the Antonine had not forgotten them. His carriage befitted that of a king, drawn by six white horses and escorted by twelve Temple Knights of Saint Mathew. He was taken straight to the Temple of Saint Mathew, while news of his arrival was sent to the king.
At first, Ludwig thought to wait outside the keep, greeting His Grace as he exited the carriage, but he rejected that idea, as it would have signified that the kingdom was subservient to the Church of the Saints. To his mind, religion and politics shouldn’t mix; they should coexist, one looking after the spiritual needs of the people while the other looks after the physical. Thus, the king found himself waiting in the great hall along with Charlotte and Father Vernan.
“I don’t understand,” said the queen. “Is this new archprior to replace Father Hywell?”
“If he is, I’ve had no word of it,” replied Father Vernan. “Temple Captain Hamelyn suggested he’s come as a special envoy, though to what end, I couldn’t tell you.”
“Could this have something to do with the Cunars?” asked Ludwig.
“Perhaps, but if that were the case, why send an Archprior of Saint Mathew?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” replied Charlotte. “They’re aware of our devotion to him. Who better to convince us to reconsider our decision?”
“I suggest we keep an open mind,” offered the Holy Father. “Perhaps he’s come on a different matter altogether?”
“Do you think that likely?”
“No, but I can hope, can’t I?”
From outside came the muted sounds of horses, and then Captain Gustavo entered, announcing the arrival of Archprior Ramone. Guards opened both doors, and a procession of Holy Fathers preceded the entrance of His Grace. Notably absent from the retinue was Archprior Hywell, although this may have been due to an attempt to avoid diverting attention away from his counterpart.
The Holy Fathers assumed positions on either side while an elderly man with receding snow-white hair stepped forward. Archprior Ramone sported the well-trimmed beard common to the Mathewites, but it had thinned, and despite his advanced years, he walked with purpose, pausing some ten paces from Ludwig and Charlotte.
“Majesties,” he began, his voice at once both clear and thunderous. “I bring greetings from the Council of Peers and its leader, Primus Wilmar.”
“We are honoured by your presence,” replied Ludwig. “Though I’m curious about the reason for your visit.”
The archprior slowly surveyed those present in the room. “This is, perhaps, something best discussed in private.”
“Then let us adjourn to another room where we may talk more openly.”
Ludwig rose, offering his arm to Charlotte.
“Our discussion is for the ears of kings,” said the archprior.
“My wife and I are joint rulers of Hadenfeld, Your Grace. Thus, she will be present for this discussion.”
“As you wish.”
