Chapter XXVI

Mahla had only spent a few days at the keep of Count Osias before lords from all over Arx began to answer the call, coming to the Landsmeet in Migdal. There was Marquise Nerissa, of the March of Muri, Sarahi's sister; Count Okran, of the County of Mt. Orson; Count Tovi, of the County of Matanah, and his son, Shiloh; Count Joab, of the County of Xane; and many many other counts, dukes, and marquises. Most important of all, Grand Duke Jachai came to answer the call, and Mahla smiled, knowing she had the support of the largest army in Arx, a man all the knights would answer to.

All of them sat down in the war room, where Osias began to explain to them the situation as he saw it. “As you know, the Queen has been falsely accusing lords and ladies of murder, marauding, and other crimes. It's become clear to us that she does this purely out of a desire for their land, and she's willing to break the law in order to get what she wants. Poor Countess Yael was already stoned to death for crimes of which she was innocent, and Marquis Husam still sits in a cell in the capital, awaiting judgment, and probably execution. Now the Queen's latest accusations have fallen upon this young lady, Duchess Mahla, daughter of the late King Amasi, a woman who should have been Queen, who would have been Queen were it not for Aryn. We cannot stand by while Aryn violates our rights and takes our birthrights from us! She has broken the law, and it is the duty of the lords of Arx to hold her responsible! Queen Aryn must pay for her crimes.”

“Agreed,” interjected Duke Jachai. “But war may not be necessary.” He'd kept the secret buried for long enough. He didn't really like the idea of dishonoring his deceased cousin Hadar by calling him a liar like this, or the idea of disgracing Lady Sarahi. However, as he saw Arx on the brink of a civil war he wanted to present a different solution, one that would remove Aryn from power without bloodshed. “I have here a letter from my late father, stating that he and several others have long known that the Martyr King was a lover of men. Aryn is not his heir, she is the child of Milo and Sarahi. This makes our so-called 'Queen' half-common born, and means that she has not a drop of royal blood in her. She is not of Melech's bloodline, and thus not of the sacred heritage blessed by the prophetess Erelah so long ago. I will write to Arch-Bishop Livana, tell her about this information, and demand that she side with me in deposing the queen. If two thirds of the Council vote to remove a queen from power then she is removed, simple as that.”

“Could it also be possible to get the Chancellor's support?” Nerissa asked. As much as she wanted to side with her sister, Sarahi, and, by extension, Aryn, she also didn't want to see bloodshed. She loved Arx, cared for its people. Besides, if there was a war then rather than Aryn being removed from power peacefully they were likely to kill Aryn while they were at it. Possibly Sarahi as well.

“The Chancellor will not support us,” Jachai said. “He was elected by the common people, from them he gets his power, and the commoners support Queen Aryn because she's shown them great favor. She's a cunning little witch, isn't she?” Most of the other lords and ladies in the room murmured in agreement with this assessment. Nerissa shook her head, but kept quiet.

“Will you write to the Arch-Bishop right away, then?” Count Osias asked.

“I will,” said Jachai.

“Good. In the mean time I would recommend that the rest of us start gathering our armies in the lands closest to the capital city. In case the Arch-Bishop refuses to depose Queen Aryn we want to be able to surround the capital, move in, and take Aryn off the throne.”

“You realize that this is treason, right?” Nerissa asked.

“Once we put Mahla, the one true Queen, on the throne it won't be treason any more,” Shiloh said. “Or, rather, she will have the power to pardon us. Even with the support of the common people and the Church Aryn won't have enough military might to stand up to us. We only need to worry about being tried for treason if we lose. Ha! Unlikely.”

“We won't have to go to war,” Jachai insisted. “Erelah's blessing was on King Melech's bloodline, meaning that the Church cannot back anyone not of his line.”

“Let's hope the Arch-Bishop is as devout as she is supposed to be.”

“What about Marquis Husam?” Mahla asked.

“Pardon?”

“I arrested him believing him to be guilty of treason against the crown, amongst other crimes. Now that I've heard all about what Queen Aryn is up to I believe he is probably innocent, and would like to see him released,” Mahla said. Obviously, she knew that Husam was guilty, but she wanted every ally she could get.

Count Osias patted her shoulder, “Don't worry, when we arrive at the capital to proclaim you Queen you may pardon him.”

“Aryn will execute him before then,” Mahla said. “We need him released now, while he's still alive! He can be a helpful ally should this come to war.”

“May I suggest, then, a prisoner exchange?” Jachai began. “The former inquisitor known as Grigori, a close friend of her Majesty, has been living in my castle for a long time. Recently, however, my wife was murdered, and I have reason to believe Grigori was behind the murder. As much as it pains me to even suggest this...I realize I cannot let Husam be stoned for crimes he did not commit. I propose that we tell Queen Aryn that we will exchange Grigori for the Marquis.”

“You'll suffer your wife's murderer getting away?” Mahla asked.

“I'll have to,” said Jachai, and he cast his eyes downward.

“Before we go any further,” Count Osias said, “I propose that we all swear our allegiance to Mahla...sorry, Queen Mahla. We must all swear that we will do all that we can to see her on the throne. If anyone does not wish to swear this oath now would be the time to leave.”

Nerissa stood from the war table and started towards the door. She would not have any part in this.

“Marquise Nerissa...” Count Osias said. “Are you sure? You know that if we win, which is very likely, then walking out right now will become an act of treason, yes?”

Nerissa turned her head back, looking over her shoulder at him. “Yes. I know that. I'm sorry, but I have to stand with my family.”

“I see...”

Mahla spoke up, “Marquise Nerissa, so long as you fight honorably on the battlefield, should it come to that, and swear fealty to me after I have become Queen you will not suffer for treason. I promise to pardon you, if you promise to do as I have said.”

“I will fight honorably, my lady,” Nerissa said.

Everyone in the room noticed her specific wording. The very fact that she'd referred to Mahla as “my lady” rather than “your highness” or “your majesty” illustrated that she didn't see Mahla as her queen. Furthermore, she had specifically ignored the request that when Mahla became Queen she would swear her allegiance to her.

. . .

Trumpets sounded as King Gianni of Uvino, along with a regiment of his best soldiers, arrived at the capital of Arx. His attendants carried behind him the banner of Uvino, a golden chalice with purple wine spilling over the edge of the cup. Each of his soldiers carried halberds in their hands and short swords at their hips. As Aryn watched King Gianni's approach, she could see in him the man that her late husband, Paolo, would have become; strong, fierce, and handsome. For a moment it was as if Paolo had died all over again. Poor boy never got a chance to experience being a man.

Gianni's face was stern and strong as he rode up to meet Aryn at the castle's drawbridge, his lower lip pushed up and his jaw slightly pushed forward. He dismounted from his horse and closed the remaining distance of a few strides to Aryn, throwing his arms around her and pulling her into a tight hug. For a brief second Milo reached for his sword, but when he heard the King of Uvino sobbing and realized that Gianni was merely seeking comfort in Aryn's embrace, he lowered his hand.

Gianni had worn a brave front for most of the trip, but now he had broken down. He wailed and sobbed into Aryn's shoulder. Aryn clutched him tightly, placing one hand on his back to let him know that she had him, and another on the back of his head to let him know he was loved. Aryn wept with him a moment, and all nearby stood in total silence, no one dared to speak a word.

When finally the two of them separated and dried their tears, Milo approached and knelt before Gianni. “There are no words that can describe a father losing a child. I cannot imagine it. I am so sorry, your majesty!”

“Where is Tamas?” Gianni asked.

Aryn glanced at Milo, who glanced at Sarahi, who in turn glanced back at Aryn. None of them were sure where Tamas was, really. They hadn't thought to make sure he was present when King Gianni arrived.

“I'm here, your grace,” Tamas said as he stepped out from behind a small crowd of city guards. He walked over to King Gianni and took a knee before him as Milo stood and resumed his place behind Queen Aryn.

Gianni looked down at Tamas' face. His nose curled up. “You were supposed to protect him.”

“I know, sire.”

“MY BOY! You were sent to watch over him, to keep him safe!”

“I'm sorry.”

Gianni smacked Tamas with the back of his hand, his rings clinking against Tamas' skull and jaw.

“Please, your Majesty,” Aryn said. “Tamas did all he could. Paolo was walking around in the middle of the night, which Tamas could not have anticipated.”

“Are you saying it is my son's own fault he was slaughtered?”

Aryn gasped and took a small step away from the raging bull in front of her. “No! Please, don't misunderstand, your Grace. What I mean to say is...is that we know who is responsible for your son's death because of Tamas' efforts to uncover the truth. The assassin we captured was not talking, it was only after Tamas stepped in that the assassin told us who his benefactor was.”

“Right...this 'Duchess Mahla' you wrote of in your letter. And where is she?”

“I sent soldiers to arrest her so that she could be brought to trial, but the Count of Migdal has taken her under his protection. Scouts report that many other lords and ladies have been arriving at the Castle of Migdal lately, even the Grand Duke himself. We believe they may be preparing to make Duchess Mahla Queen.”

“I will not stand for that! My son's murderer shall never wear a crown!” Gianni roared. “You have my armies, Queen Aryn. You are family, and I will fight by your side and protect your right to rule, if you promise me that my son's killer will pay!”

“I swear it!” Aryn said, clasping Gianni's hands. “Your son was my beloved husband. Let us be united in this, in bringing his killers to justice!”

“Tamas!” Gianni called out.

“Yes, sire?”

“Do you realize that your failure is inexcusable, that you must now do everything in your power to atone for my son's death, to do all you can to wash his blood off of your hands?”

“Yes, sire.”

“Good. Then you will serve Queen Aryn to the best of your ability, if she will have you.”

Realizing that if she did not accept Tamas' service that he would likely face a far harsher punishment, Aryn immediately chimed in. “Yes, I will accept Tamas' service.”

“Good. Hopefully he'll prove less useless protecting you.”

Aryn met with Gianni, Sarahi, and Milo all in the war room of the castle. A map of Arx, and of the surrounding lands, was spread out across the table.

“Even with your army, your Majesty,” Queen Aryn began, “I'm afraid we will not have enough to keep the kingdom should it come to war.”

“There are kings of other cities in the West who owe me favors,” Gianni said. “I helped them against their enemies, avenged their lost loved ones. Now it's their time to repay the favor. They will send soldiers to help in the war effort, their honor depends on it.”

“That helps...” Aryn looked at the map. “Even so...I'm not sure it will be enough.”

“Let me do what I can to rally the common people, your majesty,” Milo said. “They've heard all my stories, I'm a champion to them. A man who rose from lowly peasant, to paladin, to bodyguard of the royal family, and finally to war hero. According to the common-folk I once punched a boar to death with my bare hands. Supposedly I killed over a thousand demons, and saved the lives of hundreds of thousands of innocent people.”

“You haven't killed a thousand demons?” Aryn asked, laughing.

“I'm not sure I've even killed a hundred.”

“It's a good idea, Milo. You will spread the word amongst the common-folk that their Queen needs them, and that you stand by me.”

Sarahi chimed in, “Aryn, you know my sister will stand with us, don't you? Nerissa would never turn on family.”

“So at least the March of Muri is with us,” Aryn said.

“Another thought I was having,” said Sarahi, “Is that you could call upon the Saburans for help. When they told you about the way Marquis Husam was attacking their people, raiding them and stealing their children, you had Husam arrested immediately. The Saburans don't forget their friends.”

Aryn had been warned once, in her history lessons, of the dangers of relying too much on foreign allies. Often if a foreign country helped you defend your homeland, the ruler of that country would think this automatically gave them a say in your political decisions. In this case, though, she had very little to work with. Besides, the Saburans would probably do their part to keep the Westerners under control, and vice versa. “Ill send a messenger to the Saburans immediately,” Aryn said. “Let's pray, though, that all of these preparations for war prove unnecessary.”

“Oh, definitely!” Milo said. “In war everyone loses.”