Chapter 7 -Inheritance

Gregor looked at the board in shock. Three minutes earlier he had been explaining how the game worked to his grandmother, now he had not a single piece left on the ornate checkered squares. It was like when he was a child and played against his grandfather, only now he was older. He was supposed to be past such crushing defeats.

“You see Lania, even your great older brother can be beat.” Zana said, winking at Gregor while she addressed his sister. But Gregor was not paying attention. He was distracted, still trying to figure out how he had lost. He did not notice Heilara, his own mother, politely laughing at his astonishment either.

“How did you win? What did I do wrong…” Gregor whispered to himself, then after a moment he cried out, “Wait, you said you had forgotten how to play!”

To which his grandmother apologized, “Oh, did I? How forgetful of me… Old age really can get the better of me sometimes.”

“But seriously, where did you learn how to play so well?”

“Garent had introduced me to the game a long time ago, before we had married, but he never really pursued it. He played, but he only played to pass the time. I found it fascinating that they called the pieces soldiers and cavalry, equating the game to strategy and war. It was a fun game, but at the end of the day, it was two dimensional. There’s only so much variability that you can get when you only have two individuals. That makes it easy. Can you imagine what it would be like if there were four players? Or six, or even twelve? Now picture even more than that. That is what court politics can be like.”

The old woman sighed, reminiscing on days more eventful and interesting than recent ones.

“Here it might be even more complicated, but I no longer involve myself. Back in Tell when I was a part of the court, all the ladies were constantly vying for the queen’s favor. Everyone had to prove themselves capable and carve out their importance, even if it was through subterfuge and deceit, because everyone tried bringing the others down. Of course, the queen had never tolerated lying, but when others begin to slander you in desperation because you come from foreign roots yet are still above them… then you must learn all the tricks. People can hide dastardly intentions behind a pretty smile and a low neckline. Not that I cared much for wome-”

His grandmother was cut off as his mother pointedly cleared her throat.

“But that’s enough of Tell, we can continue that conversation later. Returning to the complexity of draughts,” she looked Lania in the eye, “it’s much like what your father is doing, trying to manage seventeen different provinces at once. And he is very, very good at it.” Zana ruffled Lania’s hair as she said it. After a pause she added, “So is your mother. She’s also a skilled player of The King’s Draughts if I remember correctly.”

Gregor turned to his mother then, partially seeking to prove himself, but mostly just curious, “would you like to play?” he asked.

She nodded and softly responded, “We can play a game. But I play differently.”

She began to set up the board, “Usually the board is ten squares by ten squares, but it can also be played on eight-by-eight.”

Gregor watched as the pieces were arranged on the last three rows on opposing sides. Between each piece a space was left. “And the pieces move diagonally, right?”

“Correct.” Heilara responded, before following up with her own question, “You’ve played before?”

“Yeah, I had played a few games with Jerand.”

“Had he explained that you can move pieces backwards?”

“No, he said they can only go backwards once they become king.”

“Ah, so he was playing a different version.”

Gregor stared at the board with its simple pieces and wondered to himself, how many versions does this game have? He listened as his mother explained the subtle difference. In her version of the game, all pieces could move backward, but the king was more like the cavalry in his grandfather’s version. They called it a flying king, because it could move over multiple pieces at a time in order to capture a piece, but again, he could only move diagonally. They played three games together, Gregor lost each one. By the end of it, he was quite discouraged, however his mother reassured him that it truly meant very little.

She told him it was only a game, there were books written on different tactics and strategies to win, which Gregor had known of but was too stubborn to use. The game only spoke of foresight and intelligence when it was two beginners playing against each other. But when it was a beginner going up against someone who had studied the game, then the beginner has very little chance to win, and Gregor had never had the opportunity to play against someone of his skill level. He was in luck though, his mother promised she could teach him some opening plays in the future.

--

The months passed slowly, and Gregor found himself thinking about how close his family had gotten. All it had taken was Lania falling ill, but now everyone was talking to each other again. Unlike before, he put in an effort to spend time with his mother, grandmother, and sister. He was still trying to wrap his mind around, and appreciate the different things he had learned about each of them. Whether it was his mother’s hidden skill at draughts, his sister’s budding obsession with the flowers in the garden, or his grandmother’s stories of his grandfather. All of it had been new to him.

Tell.

He had noticed his mother trying to stop Zana from talking about it, and since then she had not mentioned it, even during their Kurjen lessons, but why? It made no sense to him. It was obvious that it was a queendom, and women were in power, Gregor did not quite understand that either, but he assumed it would be like the empire, only a woman would be in charge. Aside from it being a foreign concept to him, he saw no issue with it. Afterall, the god Berlas did not prevent his twin sister Bersal from leading the gods in their charges of war. Although, everyone knew that Bersal was a goddess, and therefore an exception.

He scratched his head and yawned, unable to focus on the book of ‘roadside medicines’ in front of him. The illustrations were well done, and the documentation was impeccable, but he simply did not have the desire to read more about them. He knew he would have to complete a field assessment later, but he really did not need to know about it. He was to be an emperor for crying out loud, not a damn physician.

Closing the book in a huff. He got up and walked to the door. Just as he was going to grab the handle, a servant opened it from the other side.

“Your majesty, your grandmother requests that you join her in her quarters.”

He nodded, “I’ll be there momentarily.”

What could she want to talk to me about? He pondered as he briskly walked down the hallways. Whatever it is, it sure beats “A Dossier of Different Plants and their Recorded Applications in The Field of Medicine” Although, perhaps I should have taken the book with me. A few minutes later he was knocking outside her door. Strange, she is in her rooms and not outside.

“Gregor?” She asked as the opened the door. “Come in, the tea got here less than a minute ago. There are some fantastic ginger biscuits as well, the chef has finally learned the recipe, or they’ve employed someone from the south-west who knows how to make the blessed things.”

She broke off a piece and dipped it in the tea, savoring both the snap of the biscuit as she broke it and the sip of tea that cleansed her palate afterwards. Gregor sat in the seat adjacent as she asked, “how are your studies going, I hope I pulled you out of something incredibly boring.”

“They are going well, I was just going to get up anyway…” he trailed off, then smiled as he caught on to what she had said, then he amended his statement and replied, “Yes, in fact you took me out of the most useless and boring suffering that I have induced upon myself.”

“Oh, and what was that?”

“It was A Dossier of Different Plants and their Recorded Applications in The Field of Medicine by the great and wise Fubivho of Guilford.”

“Clearly an important topic of study for the next emperor.” Zana observed with her iconic arched eyebrow.

“As important as they get!” Gregor replied with false cheer.

The two grinned and sipped at their tea.

“Why do you put yourself through such tedium and take all these lessons?”

Gregor was taken aback by the bluntness of his grandmother’s question, but he responded earnestly, “Well, I want to learn everything I can, and I have more opportunity to do so than everyone else. I do not attend many courtly meetings, I have no need to farm the land or man a ship. I can simply ask for a book or a tutor on a topic, and it will be presented to me without issue. Other emperors have spent their time hunting or with concubines, but I wish to spend my time learning. Is that really so outlandish that people talk about it behind my back? I should hope not. In fact, it is one of my goals to promote education when I am emperor. To build academies where the most knowledgeable in their fields can propagate that knowledge, where they can meet with others that challenge them and where they can grow… It is true that studying does get tiring at times. I find my body aches more from sitting long hours than it does from fencing. But it is worth it. In fact, my only regret is that I have not had more practical learning experiences. I know nothing of what it is like to till the land and wait for crops to grow while fighting away rodents, only to harvest it all and start over next year. I have never felt hot iron underneath a hammer as the blows change its shape from an ingot into something useful. So I am left to my tutors and my books.”

Zana had not been expecting a genuine reply, but she saw that he was passionate about it. After some time, she asked, “Is that all you are disappointed by?”

“Disappointed by? Oh, my regret that I can’t learn more?” He considered it for a moment before replying, “Yeah, I suppose so.”

“None of your other lessons are lacking?”

Now Gregor looked at his grandmother with suspicion. Was she insinuating something or was it an empty question to move along the conversation? Gregor was unsure, but he decided to go along with it.

“Well, they could always be more thorough…?”

“Gregor, is that a question or a statement?”

“It’s a statement.” What was she playing at? He wondered, trying to subtly eye her, hoping to glean a hint of her plans from above the rim of his teacup.

Across from him, Zana put down her tea and pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing.

“You really have no eye for subterfuge, do you? You really need to work on that, but in this case, I suppose it’s on me. I should just ask directly. It’s not like you’d have anything to suspect from frail old me.”

She took a tired breath of resignation before she asked, “What do your history books tell you about the Queendom or about its history. Does it make mention of the culture, of what the people where like? Does it talk about the social hierarchy or the religion? Does it talk about the Tyrant’s rise to power? From the look on your face, I can tell that it does not. And I doubt anyone else has told you anything, simply because I know that anyone that can tell you anything of worth, is either dead or does not want to.”

Gregor shifted in his seat and was going to interject when she spoke over him.

“What? Are you going to say that they do make mention of it? Everything that is said is uniform. Is that the case for the history of any other nation? No, there are different accounts, different speculation on what might have happened.”

As she grabbed another biscuit, Gregor replied, “I understand grandmother, but were the events not recent? It takes time for different accounts to arise. And everyone knows what had happened those years before I was born. Why would someone document common knowledge?”

“Bah! Don’t insult me or yourself. You’re not that dumb, and I was there! Now, for whatever reason, your grandfather saw fit to fill that gap in your education. Or, he had wanted to, but the fool moved on and left everything to me.”

The frown on her face eased and her eyes softened as she remembered her late husband, but she did not let her tone of voice change, berating Gregor for his short-sightedness.

“So, I am here to answer your questions to the best of my ability.”

Gregor paused then. He had thought about it before. He had wanted to know more about what had happened, but he wanted to know about it in relation to his grandfather. He had wanted to know how his grandfather had dealt with The Tyrant’s madness. He had wanted to know about his father’s upbringing. But after his grandfather had died, Gregor had opted to spend time with his family, in the present. He did not waste his time thinking about the past.

Now he looked at his grandmother. He had forgotten that she was his father’s mother. That she would have been able to tell him more about his father than Garent had ever been able to. It had not occurred to Gregor that Zana would have known more about Tell. Now though, now he saw her not just as his grandmother, but as herself. He fancied that he saw glimpses of her past. She would have been among the nobility of Queen Lidja’s court. He saw her as she had tended to her husband. He saw the way she cared for plants in a different light. For the first time he understood that his consciousness was not the only one. Everyone had their own history, and he could not begin to imagine what she had seen in her old age. She had been there when the Tyrant chased down his brother and his wife. Did the Tyrant chase her or my father? How did he earn his name? As his mind raced, he realized that he had not satisfied his curiosity, he still had questions.

“How did the Tyrant earn his name? Was it scary when he had chased after grandfather? Was he chasing you as well?” Gregor hesitantly asked.

Crestfallen, she muttered as if speaking only to herself, “so that’s where you wish to begin. Couldn’t have picked an easier start, could you? Just like him, I swear, always picking the tough option. No problem, in this case…”

She trailed off, and Gregor saw that the sorrow which had lurked in the corner of her eyes, was now written plainly across her aged features. Zana reached behind her to grab something, but when it was not there she got up and walked towards her bed. She hmmed to herself as she knelt to pick it up from behind the backboard.

It was a book, as long as her forearm and almost as wide. The cover was unadorned black leather. There was no title, or other features that could hint at the contents. It was skillfully bound, and the leather was stiff where it needed to be, but softer near the spine.

She brought it over and placed it on the side table between them, and Gregor thought it was a shame for such a well-made book to be left devoid of outwards expression. He looked at it, seeing only smooth leather with the few imperfections and gradations.

“This is yours now. Read it, look after it. I’ll be here to answer questions. But this should answer any questions you have about the man everyone called the Tyrant of Tell. I think I will take a nap.”

“It’s mine? But what is it? Who wrote it? You can’t just sleep now! Please explain!”

“I can’t sleep right now? You might be the emperor’s son, but don’t forget that I am his mother.” She faked a yawn and walked towards her bed, pointing towards the door. Gregor was confused by the dismissal. Not just the dismissal, everything really. But he found himself at the door, holding the book when he heard his grandmother call out, “Oh, and in case you had not realized, do not tell anyone about that book. Anyone. Let no one know, not even family.” He cautiously nodded as he walked out, wrapping it in his arms as if that would hide it.

He went straight back to his room and closed the door behind him before he questioned, what had just happened?