Book 4, Chapter 19: Earl Carlisele
His voice reverberated even through the heavy doors, behind which I sat, “Again she requires me to remove my sword? What does she fear with you lot here?”
I’d instructed the guards to take his sword belt and whatever else he was carrying. Not because I was afraid of the man. If it came to it, I could blast him into the ceiling faster than he could draw a sword, though that action brought its own issues, but I knew I was safe from whatever his temper pushed him to do.
No, it was so he wouldn’t be tempted. Perhaps a mistake – who was to say he wouldn’t simply try to strangle me? He’d almost drawn his sword on me before and it took Hafthon to hold him back. Of all people, Hafthon.
The earl finally entered, minus his weapons belt. “Princess Cayce, that was entirely unnecessary.”
I stood at his entering, hoping to stick to the script, stay polite, not insult him, but some measure of that nicety surely rested upon his shoulders and not mine. “My lord, a pleasure. I, too, am not carrying a weapons belt. I thought it fitting that we meet in peace.”
He narrowed his eyes and bit back whatever insult he’d been forming, saying, “Yes, of course. Your Highness, what may I do for you?”
“Please,” I gestured at a chair. “By now, I’m sure you’re aware that your wife and I have been speaking about the dukedom.” Of course, he knew. He was thoroughly cowed during my meeting with the earls, earned dirty looks from Hafthon for not supporting him in his bid against the knighthood.
He looked down at the table, almost speaking to it, “I’m not sure . . . not sure I agree with my wife’s assessment.”
“You don’t think you can hold it.”
He looked up to meet my gaze. Sighed. “No. Bechalle was a strong ruler. He unified the earls. I had confidence then that I could take over the dukedom. Then. But with him gone.” He shook his head. Such an admission was hard for him.
I was the little girl who’d taken the castle from him. It made me realize, then, that I truly had been a divisive force. Somehow the murderous and vicious Bechalle had kept these people in line and loyal. Not only to him, but to the king, this body’s father. I should have paid attention to how he did it, but my mind was necessarily on other things. “Well, let me put it this way, it’s you or Hafthon. Who’d you rather hold the dukedom?”
“Are you going to take my girls with you on the spring campaign?”
I tilted my head. “I don’t want to. Yet leaving them in your care would require I trust you. Carlisele, I don’t want to return here to another wayward dukedom.”
“We don’t have enough troops to hold it.”
“Would Hafthon attack you?”
Weak, depreciating smile in answer.
“I’ll leave you half of Bechalle’s men. Under Captain Thrace. That’d give you some 50 000 troops all told, but you’d have to fetch yours.”
“It’s not enough.”
“I realize you’d be spread thin, but you might have to give up on holding both your earldom and this dukedom. Perhaps exalt someone to it.”
“I have no male heirs.”
“Jesus. Listen, that’s not what this discussion is about. Do you want the dukedom or not? Let me repeat myself. I don’t want to find it wayward and, perhaps stupidly, I think you’ll be less likely to rebel against me than Hafthon. You might dislike me, but you’re” I was going to say, ‘Less ambitious and kinda dumb,’ but went with, “More loyal to the crown.”
“The crown.” His eyes perked up, “We don’t even know who will be the next king. Whom you’ll be marrying.”
“It’s enough. I get it, you want a king. At least Hafthon promised to concede once I returned from the spring campaign victorious.”
“What’s that?”
“I believe his exact words were that he’d sing my praises to all who’d ask. Look, you’ve already thrown your support in for the knighthood.”
“I had little choice in that, my wife-”
“I know, I know. So, will 50 000 troops be enough to hold it?”
“I don’t think so. If Hafthon brings Crygmore to his side, that’s 60 000. And Hafthon and Crygmore have some fifteen wizards together.”
“Damn. Fifteen?”
He nodded.
“And how many do you have?”
“Ten. Not enough.”
“Alright, I’ll leave you ten of Bechalle’s.” The late duke’s estate had just twenty-three mages. Had I been able to take them with us, I was fairly certain we’d always out-mage whatever armies we faced. I didn’t know if fifty-eight would be enough. Against Barclay, for sure, but not necessarily the Ketzillians. “Twenty puts you ahead by five. That’s magical supremacy.”
“And the war rhinos.”
I tapped on the table, annoyed. “This I have to think on.”
“They’d ensure we’d retain the duchy.”
“My army is already on the small side.” It was worrisome. I’d be bringing some 45, 50 000 troops against the Barclay duchy and Seclazrin church, however many they could produce, and then the Ketzles. And they fielded more than one army last summer. But Alexander did it with as many against much greater odds, and he had war elephants. “Those war rhinos might prove decisive for me.”
“They’d prove decisive here.”
“I’ll have to talk with my generals.”
“That’s fair.”
“I want Sir Tread to remain as the castle’s chamberlain.” He was about to speak, but I beat him to the punch, “In return, I’ll leave your children here.”
“And my daughter, Brin.”
“She’s my mistress of the bedroom.”
“If you take her with you on a war campaign, I fear for her safety.”
Not taking Brin would mean I’d be more naïve, less capable of dealing with diplomatic problems. Well, I’d be surrounded by my military, so I’d deal with such problems in the fashion of military men, which might not be the worst outcome. And I wouldn’t have to wear dresses. “And you believe you can keep her safe?”
“More so than on a war campaign, surely.”
“Then you believe you can hold the duchy.”
Was that greed I saw in his eyes? “It will take careful planning and more recruiting, but I believe so, yes.”
“Then you will support the knighthood and that will draw in more soldiers for you. We’ve had soldiers from the other earldoms requesting to join our military, for the rank and prospects. Let’s use those to build new regiments for you.”
His face gave a slight smile as he worked out how the new institution would benefit him, especially at the other earls’ expense. “This may work. If we can build our ranks while theirs diminish . . .”
“My lord,” I said to refocus his attention on me, “there’s more. This castle currently has two weapon and armor smithies each. Producing the sarissa and full plate armor you saw me wearing. If you can keep production high, you’ll have more advanced weaponry and armor than the other earls.”
“But Hafthon likewise has sarissa production and Crygmore is attempting to develop his own.”
“Good. They’ll need them if Laemacia attacks.”
“It’s not good if they march on me.”
I shook my head, “Hafthon doesn’t have this armor. And his armorers don’t have the experience to make it. You haven’t seen this stuff in battle. It’ll protect better, much better, than chainmail.”
“How can you be so certain of that? I’m betting quite a lot on the word of a child, excuse me, on your word here. And, yes, I’ll grant that you’ve been in battle, but only the one.”
“Two, actually.”
“Two, then,” he conceded. “You can see why I’m worried.”
“Alright. Uh, it’s a long ways until spring. Why not have your troops train with ours, learn the new weaponry, practice in the new armor. You, yourself, should spend some time with General Brundle, mine his expertise.”
“Should?”
I tried not to sigh and folded my hands together as nicely as possible, “Could, ok? Could. You don’t have to. Do whatever you want. I’m just trying to help you prepare here.”
“Right. Yes, of course.” He looked past me at the wall, then back, asking, “Laemacia. Are you really going to marry their emperor?”
I could only stare at him for a few moments, for he himself suggested I do just that not too long ago.
“It would help inform my decision to support you by taking this duchy, knowing what your plans are.”
My eyes narrowed and I fought to remain calm. Oh, I did not like this man. “I’m keeping the option open, on the table as it were. Between you and me, it depends on the outcome of the spring campaign. If the new weapons work, I’ll still have an army at the end of it. Tested, proven, perhaps strong enough to frighten Laemacia enough that they’ll agree to peace.”
“If you make a stronger army, you could consider taking their lands.”
“Sure, yeah. That’d cause other problems, though.”
“We may need a buffer between them and us, and capturing towns along their border-”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. You have to hold the duchy, I have to survive the spring and summer.”
“Fair enough.”
“Alright. Let’s see how our troop situation develops and revisit this discussion as spring nears.”
He rose, “My lady. Perhaps this will be a positive solution to the kingdom’s problems.”
I likewise stood, “My lord.”
He went to the door, opened it, and I added, “Also, Carlisele, thank you for supporting my initiatives in the earl’s meeting. Truly.”
He nodded, “My lady,” and left.
I didn’t sit until he’d left. Then I considered. How different the man’s reaction when on the side that would benefit from the knighthood. Clearly not a man to be trusted, but harnessing his self-interest would, I hoped, check Hafthon.
I allowed myself a moment to think maybe, just maybe, I was getting better at statecraft. But not more than that, for if anything I’d learned since arriving in this universe, it was that something was always happening behind the scenes, usually more malicious than I could imagine.
So, I needed to imagine the worst. What would be the worst-case scenario? Hafthon making deals with the Ketzles and Laemacians, enlarging his military to take the duchy after I leave. The grand magister in cahoots, turning the world against me.
Yeah, that was probably what was going on. And because this universe was, if not trying to kill me outright, then having a good laugh, the Barclay boy, the new duke, would turn out to be the kindest, nicest person on the planet who sincerely wanted to bring peace and prosperity to the peasants, would make for a perfect husband, lord protector of all that is good and holy, and after finding out that I turned his marriage proposals down, decided to take the kingdom for himself and sell me off to the highest bidder.
Goddamn Carlisele. As my ally. What was I thinking?
Comments (0)
Please login or sign up to post a comment.