Book 4, Chapter 17: If At First
I entered the room, the earls were already present, sitting around the table, the highest chair awaiting me. They stood, with an uninspired chorus of “Your Highness.”
“My lords.” I sat. “Thank you for staying until now. I know you must return to your castles before winter fully sets in.”
Hafthon tilted his head at me, “Yes, shortly. Princess Cayce, I hope you are more prepared to enter into a reasonable discussion and arrive, with us, to mutual agreement.”
I put the preliminary text on the table that I’d written. “These are the beginnings of the legal arguments for the creation of the knighthood. I will have a fully prepared document outlining the expectations and rights of those holding the rank of knight by the end of winter.”
Hafthon looked at me straight on, “There is no legal argument for its existence. And we unanimously agree that it’s unacceptable. Revoke the status.”
“I don’t recall it being unanimous. Earl Yohstone agreed with me. Regardless, the institution now exists, my lords. It’s not going away. We’re here to discuss the particulars.”
“I will not.”
“Then you will have no voice in its implementation.”
“You’re dividing what remains of your kingdom in this action.”
“You may feel that way, my lord, but the soldiers do not.”
“My soldiers are perfectly happy as they are.”
Despite all that the poets have said about little girls, looking directly at you Andrew Marvell, I decided not to be coy. “Then why are so many quitting your army to join mine?”
He scowled at me, mouth opened to speak, then shut, looking away for an instance and Maitlan pounced, “I am in favor of the knighthood. I believe it will improve the lives of the soldiers and make them-”
“You hardly have any soldiers left, boy.” Hafthon didn’t even bother to look at him while speaking, shaking his head at the wall he was looking at. Turning his gaze to me, “Princess, I’ve made my position clear. You are attempting to reduce our power,” he gestured at himself and the other earls, “to reinforce your own. That’s childish of you. You should be reinforcing all of us, all of our power.”
“A rising tide raises all ships?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“My plans do so, as they raise the backbone of our military to higher status.”
“Giving commoners the rights and freedoms of nobility is courting chaos and our destruction. Besides, I don’t need to read your . . . document here to know that your proclamation is invalid. You’re yet a princess and therefore cannot create laws, nor institutions, as you call this.”
I took a deep breath, the teenager in me threatening to come out and I was very, very tempted to tell him, ‘You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry,’ but I counted to five internally while staring at him, trying to figure out what to say. “Alright. If I can’t persuade you through legalese, nor argument, and I’m a child in your eyes, let me be childish. If you do not agree to this, if you don’t ratify it in any way, it will stand through force alone. That seems to be how we get anything done around here.”
“You’re threatening civil war over this?”
“No. Good god, gods, no, I’m not going to attack you. But you want me married off, right?”
He tilted his head, “Who exactly are you thinking about marrying?”
“Laemacia. Theirs is the most powerful military is it not? That’s exactly what this kingdom needs right now, no?”
“We’ve gone over this, Princess. It’s not a good option.”
“For you. For you, it’s not a good option. But for me, well,” I looked up at the ceiling, “I’d get my birthright lands,” back down at him, “and an enormous military force.”
Carlisele gave me a meaningful glare, trying to get me to shut up, but unfortunately Hafthon caught it and looked over at him. That prompted Carlisele to say, “Surely you’ve had desertions since Princess Cayce, what do you call it, gave soldiers knighthood? Her ranks are growing, and they’re doing so for the simple reason that once men have been offered more, they want more.”
“The kingdom cannot support so many nobles. No land can. And we rule through hereditary right.”
I put my hands against my face, ready to give up. “Think of knights as more of an exalted police force. They’ll be more willing to, shall we say, keep the peace and enforce our will because we have given them a small seat at the table.”
Hafthon looked from Carlisele to me to Carlisele again. He sat straighter, his lips tightening.
“My lord Hafthon, if I may.” Carlisele looked from the table to him, “I’ve . . . come to see this new status as useful. If done properly, it will protect our power. And that of the kingdom.”
“Useful?” Hafthon slowly put his hands on the table, demeanor calm and purposeful.
I certainly did not smile as Carlisele broke ranks, and quickly picked up a mug of tea to cover my mouth.
“Yes. It elevates our soldiers over the peasantry, which will ultimately give us more control.”
I suddenly had visions of Roman citizens and their legal protections over others and worried that I was about to reinforce notions of us versus them slavery. ‘If you don’t speak our language, you’re slaves,’ kind of deal. Ugh. At least Carlisele was trying to help. For his own selfish reasons, yes, but on team Cayce now.
“I see. And so you are now for this . . . institution?”
Nodding gravely, he said, “After careful and considered thought, I believe it can be implemented correctly and within our legal system.”
Hafthon turned his gaze to me, “That makes the room evenly divided in your favor, Princess Cayce. I will therefore concede you until the end of winter to produce a legal document.”
The archbishop jumped in with, “I must point out, again, that the princess is not of the age of authority and so cannot create a legally binding institution. Whatever document is produced by the end of winter can only be considered an example until her – excuse me, my lady, your – sixteenth birthday and coronation. Before that time, my lords, I implore you to ratify the document to your needs and wishes.”
I took the win, but with slight anger, “Not legally binding until I’m of age. Got it.” My sweet sixteen was going to be a hell of a party. I just might give myself a present in the form of outlawing archbishops.
“And, Princess Cayce, you will accept these ratifications?”
“Ok, sure. Yes,” I said, flustered, “of course. Once I carefully examine them. Ratify as you wish. But it is to be a unified law, across the kingdom. No special exemptions for any particular earldom or dukedom.” Parliament, we seemed to be creating parliament here. I guess that was in the best interests of the commoners, but it wasn’t really in my best interests until, well, I was dead. And then, yeah, it’d be great if normal citizens had rights and freedoms. Just not at my expense.
Alright, yes, I was turning into a monster.
Instead of putting my hands into my face at all my awful, totalitarian thoughts, I stood up, forced a smile because, well, I’d won! That deserved a smile, and I produced a little one, “Thank you, my lords. I am glad we’ve gotten this far. Let’s adjourn for the winter.” I paused, waiting for Hafthon to interrupt and insist I name a duke, but he didn’t. Though surprised, I managed to continue, “I understand that the cold is coming, and you must leave quickly, so please, whatever goods I may provide to aid you on your return journey, let my chamberlain know.”
They rose, honorifics to all, probably not fully understanding what we’d just accomplished. They’d be leaving soon, to their own lands, and I was glad of it. Though I just created an inordinate amount of work for myself over winter, it would allow me to study up on their society, laws and customs. And I was uniquely positioned to influence them, hopefully in a moral direction. Or, failing that, to cement my power and safety and, honestly, I just wanted to invent flush toilets and a functioning sewer system.
I stood and, as I watched the quiet Crygmore leave, Maitlan flashed me a smile before heading for the door, Carlisele looking at his feet, probably wondering how much time he had left on this planet, the archbishop as smug as ever, aloof from our petty games despite being fully committed to Hafthon, I thought to myself, ‘I won, I won, I won!’
If Hafthon hadn’t stayed behind, well, I might have danced a little jig instead of wanting to blast a hole through the table and into the wall.
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