Propaganda
Year of the Golden Gilled Boar, 1983, Kliloln, Spobi 23rd
“Not doing anything is more foolish!” Jakeli exclaimed.
It might have been the potion the physicker gave him or it might have been the wine. In the hour or so since the children came back, each bearing a tray with metallic cups and a clay jug, the prince had become more and more vocal about how he would like to do things, now that he was technically the king. Emboldened, no doubt, by the fact that Litoc did not want to take the crown.
“I’m startin’ ta not like ye again, cousin. Yer thinkin’ out o’ yer arse. ‘pose ye can, eh? ‘pose ye can take action against Amreth, what’ye goin’ ta do anyway? Declare war?”
The prince took a swig from his cup without taking his eyes from Litoc. I downed mine in one go then refilled my cup. Having only tasted ale, this was a definite upgrade. It didn’t taste like the cheap, five-year old, so-called premium wines I used to buy when I felt fancy. Having the two cousins argue in front of me while I drank was like watching a medieval soap opera – good enough if there was nothing else.
“I could raise taxes on all things Khevernaki entering Silaron. Stop any Silaronian goods from going out to Khevernak. ‘mlon, I can stop the trade altogether and demand an apology by way of reparations! I-”
“Your Highness the weapons are here.” A soldier from above the stairs called out. “And the food has arrived too.”
Two soldiers and three women who looked like they’ve been rudely woken appeared. One soldier had a lamp, the other a bundle. Two of the women bore trays filled with different kinds of food – one had a mix of fried and roasted meats, the other had bread, pies, and greens. The last one, the oldest of them, had a tray filled with plates, forks, and knives. All of the eating implements were metal.
Must be nice to be a prince.
The prince dismissed the women and soldiers after they placed the goods on the table. Tukru stood and laid out plates, the first one going to Litoc. Jakeli appeared to be slighted, probably because he wasn’t used to being second.
I took plates and carved up meats and bread for the children. Jibel, I knew to be well behaved. I did not expect Jakeli’s son to be the same. I’ve always had a picture of royal children being brats. This one has been silent the whole time.
“Pass that.” Hanni spoke, addressing Jakeli and pointing to the bundle to his left.
Their eyes met. Hanni’s blank expression betrayed nothing, Jakeli’s on the other hand was brimming with pent up anger. I wondered just how much more perceived disrespect this one could take. He pulled the bundle and pushed it towards his right. Hanni snatched it from the table and sat by the door, rummaging through its contents. Litoc snorted, at the exchange.
“All good plans ye ‘ave but all stupid. Yer just reactin’, ye just might play inta their ‘ands if ye go on like this. Tell me elim, ‘ave ye caught any Khevernaki spy? Assassin? Anyone at all?”
“Well, uh, they seem to be well funded and coordinated. But-”
“But ye ‘aven’t.”
“We have brought in several suspicious people in the last few months.”
“But yer not sure are ye? Ye would ‘ave acted already otherwise. Yer thugs might ‘ave just turned them in for coin.”
“They’re soldiers and they directly under the king’s command! They will never-”
“Lie? Cheat? I, we,” Litoc pointed to us, “dispatched a drak, at least a drak, o’ these so called soldiers. They’ve gone ta thievin’ an’ banditry an’ all manner o’ dastardly deeds an’ still ‘ave the audacity o’ showin’ their faces in that thin’ ye call a camp down ultan.”
Litoc’s voice started to rise. He put down his feet and rose to glare at the prince from across the table.
“At Itrip,” Litoc thundered, “is a girl who might never find ‘er thoughts again. Another one lost the only family she ‘ad. All thanks ta these soldiers ye ‘ave sent ta scour the kingdom fer somethin’ ye ‘aven’t even planned properly!”
I’ve seen him silent. I’ve seen him despondent. I’ve seen him composed in even the direst of situations. The Litoc I saw at that moment was something else. I felt small in his presence. The Prince, leaning back, no doubt felt the same.
“And what were ye thinkin’ sendin’ soldiers ta attack yer own towns? Who’s wavin’ idea was that?”
The prince shrank. I had no idea what Litoc was talking about, but the way Jakeli responded told me it was not just an accusation.
“Sivi Deterin agreed to it. All of it.”
“Cowardly o’ ye ta call on a dead man’s name. Abrak. I still rage at the thought o’ what ‘appened ta those girls.” Litoc said, sitting back down.
Silence followed, periodically broken by the clanking of metal behind me. Hanni was polishing the throwing knives and arrows. Our hatchets lay to her left. I filled a plate and a cup and approached her.
“Brun.” She said, taking the plate and cup, then handing me my hatchet.
I let it drop on the table as I went back. The prince and the children jumped. Jibel recovered fast, eyes glued to the weapon while munching. I slid it over to him. The children put their plates down on the table and eagerly inspected the hatchet. I decided to steer the conversation.
“Is it possible you are all mistaken?”
As their faces turned towards me, I realized I might have been a little too ambitious in steering the topic. I was working with just an assumption after all. It was a habit I had developed sitting in boring meetings in my previous life – assume the other side of the argument. Especially one that is not being explored and stick to it until it’s shot down. Just to lengthen the meeting and run down time.
“Look, I’m not saying you’re all wrong, I’m just raising the possibility. What if you’ve been looking at it wrongly?”
“Preposterous!” Jakeli protested. “A large amount of the kingdom’s resources has been spent over this! There is no doubt Khevernak is behind this!”
“Now, now, cousin. I’ve learned not ta interrupt when this man speaks. What’re ye on ‘bout Jorj?”
You have?
I nodded to acknowledge Litoc’s support, inwardly thankful he bought me some time to assemble my garbled arguments.
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” I stood and approached Litoc from the side, taking my dagger from the table with me, “but Silaron is just a small part of the land and cut off from the rest. You mind drawing me a map?”
I handed the dagger to the prince. His face remained impassive, but his eyes betrayed him. He was fascinated by it.
“Cousin?”
The prince came back to us and proceeded to carve lines on the table. Tukru joined us, pouring himself some wine. Once the prince was done, he handed the dagger back to me.
It wasn’t the most elegant of drawings. It got particularly warped between the slabs of wood. But, it did bear some semblance to the figure on the floor of the underground complex. I was not prepared to see just how big the territory next to Silaron was.
“Is this real?” I asked Litoc.
“Close ‘nough.”
“See,” I started, constructing my argument on the fly, “Silaron is cut off. And they’re larger. How long have you suspected?”
“Since Wrask.” Jakeli answered.
I turned to Hanni. She wasn’t looking in our direction so I turned to Litoc. I only, somewhat, knew the days. I had no idea about the months in the calendar. Thankfully, he answered.
“More’n a year now.”
“Now, I don’t know how well funded you think they are,” I continued, stretching my hastily-made narrative, “or how many agents they have in Silaron by now, but wouldn’t it be easier, and cheaper by now, if they just attacked?”
Oh boy…
“I’m not certain about that.” Jakeli answered, hesitantly.
“Think about it. How much would it cost to send five or six people, make sure they have everything they need, to keep a lookout for one royal. Or noble?”
“Then report back.” Litoc added.
“Yes. From how you put it, there could be a hundred of them, just in Silaron.”
You’re stretching it.
Jakeli pursed his lips and exhaled loudly. I could see him calculating in his head. As I’ve run out of yarn to spin, I waited. I waited for the prince to tear my arguments down.
“It’s not far from the truth.” He spoke in a low tone, “A war is indeed cheaper.”
Ooooh!