76I know, I know, this chapter is not up to its usual standards and it took 2-3 weeks to actually post it up. I could blame it in my unhealthy obsession with the Harry Potter fanfic I started but that would be unfair to it. Anyway, don't worry, I havn't abandoned this fanfic, just making sure the other one is launched well...:) Oh and first three/quaters have been corrected by Meneldur, but not the last part of this chapter, so ignore the mistakes and the tittle that doesn't want to center for some reason.
Chapter 11: The Key to Victory?
'Give my father my best; you may now lock me in. Goodbye, King's fool.'
I forced my face to remain in its usual blank mask as I looked at her striding resolutely into the dungeon. Then turning around she stared at me haughtily as I locked the door. When I turned around, I saw Flauvic had already marched off, ignoring all etiquette, if etiquette could be applied to this situation.
Flauvic Merindar. A cool emotionless man, intelligent and calculating, while maintaining a bookish manner for the world to see. That was all the intelligence my spies and I had managed to gather on him. If the situation was not so grave I would be laughing, I thought gravely as I handed the keys to the puzzled guard and started striding back to my rooms. I had never seen Flauvic so agitated. He had betrayed more emotion in these few moments than he had in 10 years with the court. And I had gathered two very important facts tonight.
First, that Meliara was Flauvic's weakness.
Second, that Meliara was officially politically in war with Galdran.
I sighed as I reached my rooms.
'Fetch me Bolstoi.' I ordered more harshly than I intended to the servant opening the door.
I rubbed my eyes at the blurring candles as I entered. I did not know how I was going to use the information I had learnt. Would I harm her as a last recourse? Immediately I felt revolted at the idea. Somehow, I knew I wouldn't be able to physically hurt her. And just admitting the fact felt wrong. I tried to rationalize, as I took deep breaths, a technique I had learnt form my father. I could not afford to make mistakes now; I needed to clear all feelings of my head. But I could still feel the remnants of the mixture of anger and envy as I had seen Meliara's trust in Flauvic. Another emotion had hovered close to the surface, unrecognizable because of its novelty. When he had embraced her in the dungeons, and she had looked at him as if he could protect her from anything I had had to physically stop myself from separating them. And again I reached the query…were they lovers? Their relationship seemed platonic but I had seen them together only two times. Suddenly I felt disgusted by myself. A man was going to be executed at midday tommo- no, today by now. And I was wondering if I had been jealous of a Merindar. The idea was ludicrous! I stood up, pacing my rooms. A hurried knock at the door halted me as Bolstoi entered the room.
'My Lord, you called for me?'
'Yes, sit down, Bolstoi. I need you to translate this urgently.'
Out of the lining of my court coat I slipped the live bug out. The bugs were, again a gift of my father. They had been nurtured by Sartorian mages for two years by magic. Now they could retain all sound heard within reasonable distance and somehow regurgitate it when activated. I had used the excuse of escorting Meliara to her father and had recuperated the bug concealed in Galdran's chambers. Speaking the activation word, I rummaged for parchment, ink and a quill. Satisfied, I handed all to Bolstoi as he settled to work. I started pacing again as I heard all the transactions that had happened in Galdran's room as a continuous speech, yet still retaining each speakers tone and emotion.
The bugs were worth their exorbitant prices after all.
I had been reluctant to use them at first, still retaining a few vestiges of shame at spying, but my father had corrected my naïveté with a few well placed words. I had tuned out as Bolstoi was writing everything being said, the bugs were one use, and only regurgitated once so I usually had Bolstoi write everything the first time with his ability to write at break neck speed. I suddenly heard Meliara's voice and I realized with shock it was the dinner she had spent with her father.
'Ah yes, the returned warrior.' They had been talking about me?
'Charming man, a slight dandy, but a charming suitor.'
'He's not my suitor, get to the point, father.'
'My, my, you really have no finesse, daughter,'
'Your mother married at 18.'
'And look where she ended. Dead in a ditch.'
'Really, Meliara, we must teach you not to be so callous.'
'Callous? You're mistaken, I just had to teach myself the cruelty of the world, same as I had to learn to live without a father.'
I listened with baited breath at a conversation that taught me more about her than all of Savona's report. My heart clenched slightly at the contempt in her voice while talking about me, and I cursed myself for caring.
'I need to know the truth. Did you have her killed, King Galdran?'
'You go too far with your insolence. For this, your horse will be slaughtered tomorrow with the prisoner.'
'And you disgust me. No wonder this country is in such chaos.'
'You play a very foolish game, m'dear,'
'Like your beloved Shevraeth, or your drunkard cousin Debergi? Do not make me laugh father, I do not regret these words, I have longed to say them. You might as well execute me tomorrow with the prisoner, for I will not bend to your corrupt laws. Besides, I doubt your reign will last long.'
'Branaric is only the first, in sight of every tyrant there will be righteous rebels. I will now take my leave, and you can take me from my room if you want to lock me in the dungeons tonight.'
If I needed any more proof she was as idealistic and pure as she had seemed, it was this. There was no way she could have known her words were being recorded. I finally understood where she had got that cut lip. Of course! That explained the comment she had made to her father after he had slapped her in front of three courtiers. Meliara seemed to be a catalyst, precipitating all the Merindars to act in ways they had never before, to lose their cold demeanor and polite indifference. But that had not been my aim in hurrying Bolstoi to my chambers. Writing I could have done, however during all those long nights of studies with my father I had been concentrating on tactics, warfare and politics. I had never learnt the Sartorian language. However, Bolstoi was originally from Sartor and he could translate the heated conversation between the two Merindar cousins.
After a few more moments of brooding, Bolstoi looked up. A few ink spatters on his face as he said:
'It is done my lord, I translated the Sartorian parts of the conversation directly to Remalnan, I assumed that is why you required me for this task.'
I smiled wearily, taking the parchment he was holding. 'Yes Bolstoi, have you had time to learn anything from our contact in Sartor?'
Bolstoi shook his head regretfully. 'No my Lord, we were to meet tomorrow night. However I have heard rumors, through less reliable contacts, that Lady Meliara became one of Sartor's high court mages.'
I blinked in shock. High court mage? The Merindars had kept that hidden. Meliara was becoming a more important chess piece in the games I was playing with her father. 'Too important', a little voice whispered in my head and I shook it back and dismissed Bolstoi gratefully. Sitting down I perused the transcribed conversations until I found the one I was searching for.
What in Remalna's name were you trying to do Mel? Kill yourself?! Of all the things you could have done, you tried to change everything by angering the most powerful man in this realm?! What did you expect him to do? You undermined his authority! What did they teach you in Sartor!'
Aah, this is where Meliara switched to Sartorian to prevent me from listening. I felt a twinge of guilt as I skimmed through the next few lines.
'Meliara…Meliara, there is no way you are doing that, you are enough trouble without-the stables, your sarcasm… how could I not think about it before.'
'Flauvic, it's the only thing that might make father see reason, and if it doesn't I shall just continue on that path, I will not stand in the little gilded cage he has prepared for me here.'
Doing what though? I asked myself furiously. Flauvic had apparently guessed but had not put his thoughts into words. I needed to make plans to counteract whatever Meliara felt like doing next to rile her father.
'Meliara, you are mad if you think I will let you do this.'
'What? Will you confess to my father for the crimes I haven't committed yet?'
'Meliara, I was already looking into the poisoning when I felt your mood and heard about the news.'
'Mel, it wasn't your father, I haven't figured it who the poisoner was, but he killed the spy which your father had planted to…watch over you.'
'It does not change anything, but I am glad, although I do not know why I should be.'
'I will stop you, Melli.'
I sighed in frustration, this was not leading to anything.
'Give my father my best, you may now lock me in. Goodbye, King's fool.'
I smiled wryly as I read the last line. I had known she was insulting me from her tone. But king's fool? I was the farthest thing from that and I could see she considered me his right hand man from her exchanges. I remembered the first time I had seen her. The position I had been in, and the look in her eyes, a look which I could now interpret from experience to be shock and perhaps, disgust. I punched my knuckles into the wooden table. This was not the time for self pity! Let Flauvic stop her from making threats she could not execute. Branaric was about to die. But how to save him? I could not reveal myself now for one pawn. My father and I had been planning this for too long to allow one man to destroy all that we had built over the years. How-
My frantic musings were interrupted by the doors being thrown open by Russav.
I looked at him, shocked at the laughter in his eyes as he strode towards me and grasped my shoulders. To my opinion a mourning funeral melody was more suited to the current times.
'What is it Russav? I don't have time for your games now, a man is going to die tommorr-'
Russav chuckled, 'You have no need for that now. I just heard the news from the prison guard himself.'
He paused for effect, and then he gushed:' Meliara has escaped the dungeon.'
I looked at him blankly, this did not explain his jubilance. 'Well? As much as I would like to hear about it, I have more pressing matters-'
'Danric! She didn't just escape the dungeon. She escaped with Branaric, the prisoner to be executed. They have fled the castle. I knew I was right in falling in love with her at first sight.'
Russav's last comment was lost to me at the news I was hearing. I had been wrong, she didn't just jolt Merindars into acting without their cool calm, she was going to render me into a jumble of nerves with her spontaneity.
'Are you certain about this, Russav?'
Russav became serious as he replied: 'Yes, I was skulking around Meliara's room when a servant was sent to verify she was not there, they saw the letter. And soon after that the king pieced it together. Branaric was the real surprise. It was only when they spotted the unconscious guard that Galdran suspected something. He's in a rage right now; he is calling for you. You, Flauvic and Degebri.
I started, 'Couldn't you have said that at the beginning?'
Russav grinned. 'Just keep your composure like you always do.'
'You called, your highness?' I drawled out as I entered the room I had exited. Flauvic was already there, his face smoother than mine if possible and Debergi was pacing a few meters form the king. That was one Lord that had never been able to keep a check on his anger.
'Lord Vidanric, it appears my daughter has- vanished from the dungeon with the prisoner you had so kindly brought.' That was the most forthcoming statement Galdran had ever made barring the tumultuous meeting he had had with his daughter a few moments ago. The fact that he was seething while he said that did not reduce its uniqueness.
I stayed silent as I looked at Galdran blank-faced. At the same time, the confirmation that I would not be the cause of another innocent death in my fight for the greater good left me feeling lighter than I had been for weeks, but the thought of what could happen to Meliara outside the palace's walls constricted my heart with unnamable emotions.
'My daughter was kidnapped by that black hearted son of a traitor. That is what happened. And I bid you three to rescue her. Flauvic, you will contact the Queen of Sartor and see if any ransom has been asked for there. Debergi, you will ride to Tlanth and await the escaped prisoner there if that is his destination. Lord Vidanric, you will follow the kidnappers tracks from the palace, dogging their traces. If any word of this is leaked out I should ask you not to show your face here again.'
He let the threat hanging as my reeled with shock. King Galdran was wily but this level of deceit…He had put all the blame on a prisoner that had been too weak to move a finger let alone plan an escape. And he was now removing the only three Lords that could shed light on the obvious: That Galdran's daughter had feed the prisoner and run away. My thoughts were shaken as Debergi asked:
'Do we have permission to kill Branaric of Tlanth.' I eyed him with veiled distaste as he asked that. I had always been wary of Merindars, but while Flauvic had style to grace his family name, Debergi had missed in looks and fashion, with crude violence his only redeeming quality in the eyes of the king.
'No. Avoid that at all cost. I shall not be deprived vengeance on the son as well as the father. He will torture slowly for this feat.'
I wondered at Gadran's state of mind. If he was actually mad enough to truly blame Branaric for this. His crazed eyes seemed to indicate so. An he had disclosed alot more information in his anger:
The father as well as the son…
I ruminated on those words as I bowed my exit and strode of to try salvage something of my plans in the mess Meliara had created with a single impulsive thought. It seemed I would need to research Galdran's history much deeper than was cautious to discover the meaning of that comment. But it could be worth it. Galdran was shakign off all his smooth veneer in his hate for the Tlanthi family, perhaps therein lay the key to a successful rebellion, the key to victory.
Well there it is, I know alot of it is just repeats of the previous chapter, but I thought you guys would appreciate a bit more insight in Vidanric's feelings for Meliara: basically confused feelings but anyway, new question for all readers, I'm asking because I have no idea what will happen to Mel in the next chapter: Should Bran realise in the next chapter that Mel is Galdran's daughter? Tell me in your Review!