This post is chapter thirty-six of my not-previously-published epic fantasy novel Broken Rule, which I'm serializing here on Steemit.
The story so far:
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35
As far as Jonas had been able to observe, Benedek showed all the outward signs of enthusiasm for a mellow life of retirement, but Jonas knew that the habits of a lifetime were not easily changed, and there was every chance the duke would return to a more traditional spendthrift attitude if left to his own devices. In an attempt to cultivate Benedek's verve as a patron of the arts Jonas had asked the man to pose for his latest statue.
“Are you sure I need to have the tip of my sword against the ground like this?” Benedek asked. “It's bad for the blade.”
“Oh, definitely, Your Grace. It makes you look... stalwart.” Jonas felt the slightest twinge of guilt for making the man maintain the pose even though he had already locked it into the stone with his magic, but the guilt was more than overshadowed by his desire to maintain his deception.
Jonas was busily chipping away at the stone block to reveal the image of Benedek locked inside when he was distracted by a commotion from the front of the house. As he looked around, he saw a nobleman followed by a squad of soldiers marching around the corner, accompanied by a nervous looking Joszua Chase. The elderly duke retained the pose of noble grandeur that Jonas had requested, but called out, “Toma, what brings you to my home without invitation?”
Baron Toma didn't answer right away, but continued his bold stride until he was within easy speaking distance. He stopped and bowed his head, although courtesy would have called for a greater show of respect for Duke Benedek's station. “Your Grace, I have come to deliver a message on behalf of His Majesty, King Gavril.” He pulled a rolled parchment from a tubular case he wore attached to his belt, and began to read aloud. “Duke Benedek, we have been rivals in the past, but for my part it has been due to position and circumstance, not any personal enmity. Now that I have taken the throne as king of Tarkannan, I hope that we might build a new and more harmonious relationship. I bear you no grudge for the actions of Radoslav, and I am prepared to honor your lands and titles if you come to Kubara and swear fealty to me, as your king. Signed, Gavril, King of Tarkannan.”
Benedek tried to interrupt, but had been thwarted by a fit of coughing. Once he regained his composure, he asked, “Gavril wears the crown, then? What of Radoslav?”
Toma answered, “Radoslav was unwilling to yield the throne peacefully, so His Majesty King Gavril was forced to slay him in single combat.”
“And the king's son? Does he still reign in Liat?”
“No, Zakhar traveled from Liat and took arms against His Majesty King Gavril, and was executed for treason against the crown.”
“I see. And if I choose not to swear fealty to this Gavril, am I to meet a similar fate?”
“That I do not know. I know only the offer he makes, that any differences you might have shall be forgotten if you swear fealty. If I might interject my own opinion, I think it is a very generous offer, and you would be a fool to refuse it. Many of the noble houses have already sworn. In these turbulent times, I don't think it would be wise to single yourself out as an enemy of the king.”
Jonas suspected that Toma was exaggerating the amount of support that Gavril was receiving from the nobility, but also knew that few Tarkannan nobles were willing to act on their own. Without a leader to rally opposition to Gavril, most would eventually fall in line. From the expression on Benedek's face, Jonas guessed that he was thinking the same thing.
“How long do I have to decide?” Benedek asked.
“I do not know that, either," said Toma. "I only know that the offer has been made. Here, you can read it for yourself if you prefer.” He handed his parchment to Benedek. “Now, Your Grace, I beg the hospitality of your house. I have other missives to deliver, but my men and I have ridden long and hard.”
The duke hesitated for a moment, but then waved his hand to one of the servants that had wandered out to observe the excitement. “Very well. Stable your horses, and my cook shall prepare a meal for you.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
As Toma departed, Joszua asked, “Will you do it? Swear to him?”
Jonas could see the conflict on the duke's face, honor and tradition fighting with the decision to put the conflicts of the kingdom behind him and enjoy his retirement. His posture, already stooped by age, seemed even more bent than usual, like an old willow pushed to the limits of breaking by a gale. Jonas wondered if his own efforts to secure a position for himself might be exerting some small influence on the man's decision. The duke's idle retirement had seemed to be in Jonas's best interest and he had never missed a chance to encourage Benedek down that course, but he hadn't ever considered any other implications. Jonas's machinations had seemed innocent enough in the grand scheme of things, but even the tiniest pebble could tip a scale on way or the other.
Benedek gave voice to the indecision already plain on his face. “I don't know, Joszua. He is a despicable man, worse than I ever imagined if he was willing to take the throne by force. But if he's capable of doing that, what else is he capable of doing? Should I risk his wrath? Radoslav broke faith with me when he stripped my title, should I honor mine to him? I have a wife and young son to think of, not to mention my daughters and their husbands. If I should try to make war, so many would die. And to what purpose? So that I could keep my honor?” He let out a long sigh. “I think I have convinced myself. I will swear to him. What other choice do I have?”
“There must be something else. Some other choice.”
“If you have alternatives, Joszua, I would be glad to consider them. But like Toma said, I cannot stand alone against him. When I was Lord Marshal, perhaps it would have been my duty. But Radoslav elevated Gavril in the first place, over my objections. Gavril was nothing before Radoslav made him a duke. Perhaps it is justice that Radoslav was killed by the monster he himself created.”
“Your Grace, I can't believe you're talking like this. You've always been a loyal king's man.”
“And Gavril asks me to be one again.”
“But he is the worst sort of traitor!”
“All the more reason not to rouse his ire. I'm sorry Joszua, but my mind is made up. You are your own man, do not feel bound by my decisions. I will respect you no matter what course you choose, although I cannot support you if you choose to oppose him.”
“Your Grace, I hate to concede to a man like him. But I don't dare risk any more than you. I will go with you when you go to swear fealty.”
Benedek turned to address Jonas. “I'm sorry, master sculptor, but I can pose no longer today. I must prepare for a journey to Kubara.”
“I understand, Your Grace,” said Jonas.
Jonas considered this new information. Gavril sitting on the throne of Tarkannan had changed things considerably. When he had taken Rurik from Thornwood it had been a decision made in the middle of the night, with no time to ponder the consequences. He had been concerned for the boy's safety. If an assassin could get to Jonas in Castle Thornwood, then surely one could get to the boy as well. Once he had been away and able to consider the situation without the influence of panic, he realized that Duke Gavril must surely think that he had kidnapped the boy. Hiding had served two purposes, avoiding death at the hands of the Black Circle and avoiding Duke Gavril's wrath at taking his son. But a king had far more resources than a duke. If the new king were to make the effort, how long would it be before Jonas was found out? And, as king, perhaps Gavril would now have the resources to protect the boy from assassins in a way that he couldn't in Castle Thornwood. Furthermore, if Gavril was willing to forgive Benedek for opposing him, perhaps he would be willing to forgive Jonas once he explained that he had taken the boy to preserve his safety. After all, he had begun the boy's education in the art of magic, as Gavril had wanted. He just hadn't done it in the way Gavril expected.
Jonas gathered up his sculpting tools and went to the room that he shared with Rurik. “Pack our things, boy. We're going on a journey.”
Rurik bounced into action, putting what few possessions they had into some battered packs. “Where are we going, master?”
“We are nearing the end of this stage of your training. We will go see your father and see if he will allow us to continue the next stage under his protection.”
“Truly?”
“Yes, but the time has not yet come to abandon our deception. I hope to travel with His Grace, Duke Benedek, and it is still important to conceal our true identities from him a while longer. Can you do that?”
“Yes, master.”
Jonas approached Benedek in the stables. “Your Grace, you have been most generous in the time I have been here. And I am grateful for the inspiration that your beautiful wife has given me. My works here have far surpassed anything I have done previously, but a man in my position must also consider other things than fidelity to art for its own sake. A newly crowned king will have great need of a sculptor of my skill, and that would be a very lucrative opportunity that I cannot pass up. Please, Your Grace, if I may request your generosity a final time, allow me to join you on your journey to Kubara.”
Benedek sighed, turning his mind from his own concerns to crafting a suitably courteous reply. “You came to us unbidden, so I can hardly object to your departure. You brought beauty and joy to my house, so I think it is I that should be grateful to you. Can you handle a horse?”
“Tolerably well, Your Grace, and my apprentice boy is quite skilled with horses.”
“Very well.” He signaled the stable boys. “Prepare two more horses for the journey.” The boys ran off to begin, and Rurik went to help them.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Jonas said with a deep bow.