Book 3, Chapter 17: Earl Hafthon
I thought of him as short and stocky, but he was still a bit taller than me and considerably well-muscled. I wondered where I stood with the man. When I’d first come to this castle, he was against involving me in the war council, given my gender and age. Things had changed since then. The war council, for one thing, was now mine to lead.
Because he’d made fun of me for not liking the awful alejack Bechalle made, ‘A man’s drink,’ as he called it, and because I thought it only fit to clean the toilet, I’d instructed the runner to have several barrels of the stuff brought up.
“Your Highness,” he entered through the same door the Laemacian ambassador exited from, “what a pleasure to see you again.”
I put on a delightful smile, full of the knowledge that I’d soon be plying him with cleaning fluid, “Lord Hafthon.” I gave him my hand and he ritualistically bowed, head touching, just slightly, to my hand. “Allow me to pour you a drink of the former duke’s private reserve. I myself will stick with something lighter, an ale.”
“Excellent. Princess Cayce, let me first offer my apologies and sympathies for what Bechalle put you through. I had no idea the man was capable of such monstrosity. And it’s good your men were able to deal with the situation so well.” The stocky man pulled out a chair at the table, waiting for me to sit.
Before his last sentence, I was starting to feel bad for the alejack, but then he uttered that. “Kind of you to say, my lord.” We both sat, his back to the door. I picked up the jug and began pouring, stewing a bit and wondering how much Hafthon really knew about the Bechalle situation.
“I’m glad to see that you’ve since recovered from the ordeal.”
I watched as the alejack overflowed the cup before realizing I was still pouring, quickly pulled back the jug, “Oh! Very sorry about that. I was . . . I wasn’t thinking . . .”
Picking up his mug in his left hand, he placed his right on the table and brushed the errant liquid off, then carefully sipped some. “It’s no problem. As I was saying, I’m gladdened to see you recovered and taking suitors.”
“Thank you, my lord, that is most kind.” I placed the jug on the table and sat back. No need for a cloth, I guess.
“Tell me, was that man, the one who was just in here, an agent of Laemacia?”
“Did you pass him in the hallway?”
“Indeed.”
“Yes, actually. An ambassador from the current emperor.”
He narrowed his eyes, “And what’s his business with the kingdom?”
“I’m not sure that it’s any of your business.”
“Begging your pardon, my lady, your lands are to the south, but my lands are right here. Right next to Laemacia. It damn well is my business.”
I tilted my head, “Alright. He’s proposing I marry the current emperor.”
He sat back, deep into the chair, eyes widening, “That would be . . . “
“What? What would it be?”
“Disastrous. They’d move their noble families in, set up businesses, drive our people away. No, I don’t like it. I urge you to decline.”
“On this we agree, my lord. I have no desire to become the usurper’s fourth wife.”
“Usurper?”
Oh crap. I really was terrible at statecraft. “Uh, Bechalle didn’t talk to you about this?”
“No.”
“The current emperor killed the royal family and took the throne for himself, therefore he’s a usurper.”
“Yes, that much I know. But he has claims, too.”
“My, uh, biological mother,” his face was all confused, “birth mother. She was directly in line for the throne. I’m the legitimate surviving heir to the empire.”
“Fucking hell.”
“Yeah, my opinion exactly. I offered to abdicate, but he said that wasn’t possible.”
“No, it wouldn’t be. Laws don’t codify empires, blood does.”
“How incredibly backward.”
“Hmm. What are you going to do about it?”
Instead of burying my face into my hands, I sat up straighter, “I’m going to offer them treaties to ratify our borders, promises of peace.”
“Ha!” He took a long drink. I poured him more and more carefully this time, while he finished swallowing and wiping his beard off, “I hope your new weapons are powerful. Their standing army is quite large.”
“A topic for a war council and another day. The ambassador is staying for the coronation, there’s no rush. Now, what can I do for you? Please don’t tell me you’re here as a suitor.”
“Ah, no. But why would that be an issue, were I?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Still, I didn’t want to offend the man. He seemed to be my only capable earl. “There’s just . . . too many. And none of them, shall we say, desirable. Let’s not dwell on that. What are you here for, if not that?”
“Hmm,” he squinted and glared a little. “First, we’ve come for the coronation ceremony. Second, to reaffirm my allegiance to the kingdom.”
“My kingdom.”
“Are you planning on marrying soon?”
“No.”
“I see.” He gritted his teeth, “Then, yes, your kingdom.”
“It troubles you that no male leader has control of the throne.”
“It’s not natural for women to rule. Let alone lead military campaigns.”
“Perhaps it will please you to know that I mainly lead in favor of my general’s advice.”
“Not so unwise as your age, then.”
I was growing tired of his company, so I asked, “Is there a third reason?”
“Yes. I want the duchy.”
I pulled back in surprise, lifting my mug to my lips in a vain attempt to cover that up. “Ah. I . . . haven’t decided to gift the duchy to anyone.”
“I was Bechalle’s bannerman the second longest.”
He’d just stepped out of my knowledge base. I should have prepared for this, for people wanting the duchy, but I’d been too focused on the suitor situation, the Laemacians and organizing technology development. Plus, all that annoying healing. “If you’ll pardon me, why wouldn’t I grant the duchy to the longest running bannerman?”
“The Carliseles?” He looked confused, “I had thought you believed them complicit.”
A part of me wondered where he’d gotten that information, but it didn’t really matter. He was right, I had no desire to name Brin’s parents to the duchy. Anyways, I felt stupid for not putting two and two together. “Right. Good point. I’m still considering these things. It’s not a bad castle. I’m almost thinking to stay, perhaps appoint a duke at my former castle.”
“You’d give up Dernamouth?”
“This place has better wine.”
“Not as many raw resources, though. And not as effective at attacking the Ketzillians.”
“I’m not sure I want to continue a campaign of constant war against them.”
He sat back. “This is why men rule. You’re better suited to running a castle than an army.”
I tried not to let my annoyance show. Not at his sexism, but that he just might be right. I’d rather be in a castle – a castle! – building new technologies for these people, maybe putting in sewage lines, clean water, a distillery. Basically, playing a city building game instead of a conquest one.
“Here, my lord, allow me to pour you more alejack.” His face was slightly, ever so slightly red. That’d be the isopropyl alcohol. Not as toxic as methanol, which was in there too, but definitely left an uncomfortable, warm feeling when you drank it. From the effect of your arterioles being attacked.
“Thank you, most kind.”
Just then the door opened, and a boy entered, holding it open. When he saw me looking at him, the earl also turning to glance, the boy bowed and squeaked out, “Excuse us, my lord and lady, we’ve brought the alejack barrels requested.”
Two men entered carrying a barrel, set it down, went out and repeated. Soon, there were four little barrels, called quarter barrels, probably each with about ten gallons of the nasty stuff.
“Excuse the interruption, my lord. I had these brought for you as a gift.”
“Not sure I can carry four by myself.”
“We’ll have them delivered. It’s amazing how much of the stuff the late duke produced.”
“He was an inventive man. Not so ingenuitive as yourself, however.” He readjusted himself in the seat, leaning forward.
“Ah. Yes. Well, come this spring, I want to win. Decisively.”
“And are you going to share these new weapons with us? If not, I fear that my soldiers may not be as useful in the spring campaign as they could be.”
“To be honest, my lord, I was not fully committed to having your troops join us. These lands, your lands included, need to have an army available to defend against the Laemacians, if they attack.”
“For that very reason, perhaps my soldiers should be training on the same weapons as yours.”
“Here at the castle, we simply do not have the manpower to make enough of these new weapons to outfit more than my army.”
“So, you’d leave us behind, but weaker than the army you’re taking, and expect us to defend against the Laemacians? We may not hold.”
“That’s not what I said.” I didn’t need this guy teaching the new weapons technology to others or using it against me. Though, to be honest, the sarissa wasn’t difficult to copy or produce. So, I might as well give him that. The crossbow and stirrups, on the other hand, weren’t yet finished. “I think I can accommodate your request, but with constraints.”
“Those being?”
“You’ll have your smiths work with mine, to learn the techniques of producing sarissa. Your troops can practice alongside mine until they understand the concepts of using it in battle. From that point, you’ll have to continue producing sarissa in your lands and with your resources. We simply do not have enough men or time to produce more than enough for our needs.”
“That sounds fair.”
I rose, “Excellent, then- “
“One more thing, my lady. If you don’t mind.” He waved at my seat.
I sat down again. “Yes?”
“If your plan involves leaving me and mine here, perhaps consider more deeply my exaltation to duke.” He nodded, smiling, “I would be that much more, shall we say, determined to hold the lands, prevent foreign invasion were the duchy mine.”
I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t considered these options and was actually thinking to give the duchy to Tread for no other reason than that I liked the idea of him suddenly becoming a duke. Then Brin wouldn’t have any excuses not to date the poor kid. Plus, it would be hilarious watching Brin’s parents’ faces as Tread became duke.
“I’m going to need time to think about this, Earl Hafthon. It’s not a decision I can make lightly.”
“Of course. I understand.”
“I don’t think you do.”
“Excuse me?”
“I have no plans to give up power. The last time we . . . were in council together, you protested at me, a little girl, joining your presence.”
He half rose out of his seat, “What do you know about war? What do you have to add to a men’s council?”
“Exactly my point.” I stood. “I won’t be trusting this duchy to someone who won’t respect the crown.”
“I respect the crown alright.”
“Just not the little girl who wears it.”
“It came out of your mouth, not mine.”
“The barrels of alejack are yours, my lord. I will see you at my coronation.”
“Damnit. I’m a fair man. No one’s ever said otherwise. And I’ll admit that you have, indeed, improved your phalanx in ways no one before you has – at least in practice. You’ve yet to be tested on the battlefield.”
That pissed me off and I pointed my finger at him, “I haven’t been tested? I got my army from Dernamouth to here! I saved it by killing those mages – alone! Myself!”
“You are brave, girl. I’ll give you that. And I’ll tell you what. You prove this spring campaign, you conquer all you mean to, I’ll make every man in this kingdom kneel to you.”
“I will hold you to that, Hafthon.” I wheeled about to leave, but stopped at the door, “Take all the alejack. From the cellars. It’s all yours.” Out the door and down the stairs.
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