Josiah said, “The Nordmen and Wessons would resist.”
Nathan Wolf nodded. “But not on our behalf. And, probably, not very effectively.”
Inger shuddered. “All right. It’s true. We’re in the stew. There are no obvious or easy ways out. Basically, we spent a year getting ourselves into a place where we either have to run away or throw ourselves on the mercies of our subjects.”
Wolf said, “That could end up ruining the monarchy.”
He did not need to explain. Exactly that had happened in Ruderin only two years ago. The crown there never recovered from the Great Eastern Wars. The nobility so weakened the central authority that King Byar became nothing but a national symbol. Ruderin was in worse chaos than Kavelin. As in Kavelin, a bountiful harvest had contributed heavily to a root level economic resurgence. That, in turn, had enfeebled the normal human inclination toward bad behavior.
One poor harvest and both kingdoms would descend into banditry, plagued by petty warlords.
Inger saw that future plainly. Anyone with half a brain could see it. But no one would yield anything of their own to prevent it.
“Call a parliament,” Inger blurted.
“Your Majesty?”
“Send out word, Josiah. I’m calling the Thing, made up the same as last time.” She raised a hand to forestall comment. “I know. Some of them are dead. People know who the heirs should be. Just get the word out. We have to pull everyone together.”
Wolf said, “That’s begging for trouble. Begging for it.”
“And I’ll give it back if they ask for it.” Pure bluster, that. “A Thingmeet should be good for Vorgreberg. All those people will be here spending money.”
The men eyed her curiously, wondering whence that notion had sprung.
It had begun as a fantasy about gathering all the troublemakers in one place so she could massacre them. Her thoughts had trickled on to possibilities less bloodthirsty.
She said, “Babeltausque, you can drop the treasure search. Find Mist’s transfer portals instead. And any other evidence that Shinsan is still interested in Kavelin. Assuming Varthlokkur hasn’t found the stuff already.”
“Your Majesty?” Then, “Of course. As you will.” He got it. Inger had found an enemy everyone could hate.
A Thingmeet must, inevitably, devolve into incessant squabbling. Meantime, though, everyone would forget about fighting one another. Every grownup remembered the occupation by Shinsan…
And everyone attending the Thingmeet would have to spend money. So Vorgreberg would fall in love with Inger all over again for the first time.
For the first time in months hope surfaced. Too much, really. But… Hope!
Inger said, “Once the summons goes out we issue new regulations for innkeepers, taverners, merchants, and so on. They will allow no credit. They will demand cash in advance, of which a tithe will be ours. They won’t do business with who already owes them, either. A Thing member who dodged his obligations before will make good beforehand or not be seated. And we will take a tithe.”
Her mind raced. Ideas came faster than she could articulate them. “Debtors won’t even be allowed through the gates while their obligations remain unpaid. How does that sound?”
“Populist,” Gales said. “The kind of man who welcomes dishonor by ignoring his debts isn’t likely to care enough about his seat to settle them.”
“Possibly. But if we make this sound like we’re really putting the design of the future on the table… I think they’ll all want to have their say.”
Babeltausque said, “There will be a great deal of animosity from our enemies, Your Majesty.”
“How so?”
“They’ll assume that you mean to chunk them into the dungeon with Dane if they actually show up.”
Inger nodded. She had not considered that. Her natural inclination was to say, “So what?” and declare anyone dim enough to disagree with her to be outside the equation. But that would only worsen the strains amongst the factions. If a Thingmeet was to happen there had to be a potent sense that it was real.
Josiah said, “You’d be taking a huge risk, Majesty. If you call a Thingmeet to decide the future you’d better be ready to live in a future that you’ll find less than condign. Whatever happens, we won’t be able to impose your will.”
“That’s true. All true. Hang on.” After a moment, she asked, “How about safe-conducts for all Thing members? Whoever they are, say, beginning three days before the first meeting date through three days after adjournment.”
“That would stun the kingdom, Majesty,” Nathan Wolf said. “It stuns me. I like it. If nothing else, it will buy us time.”
“Thank you, Nathan. You and Josiah get it rolling. Babeltausque, I need evidence that Shinsan is lurking behind our hedges.”
The sorcerer nodded. Here was a chance to show off. Carrie would be impressed by his royal connection.
Inger would give Kavelin a common foe. The gimmick was older than prostitution. It remained in play because it worked.
He had to produce evidence that was not obviously manufactured.
He should start where he had run into the woman, being a little more careful to avoid an ambush. A visit to the cemetery would be in order, too. He would do that first, and try to find those squatters. They should make useful witnesses.
Mist’s people had her mansion cleaned out already, he imagined.
This might be too big a task. He was a bit player, not the Empire Destroyer. He could not do much more than keep water from boiling.
How to get Varthlokkur involved?
He was involved, just not politically. Would he appear as a witness?
He explained it all to Carrie before taking a nap, after which he meant to change into clothing suitable for knocking around the countryside. She listened, interested. Carrie was a changed girl now that she lived in the castle. She took her role as his companion seriously. She mentioned that her grandmother had been married at her age. She no longer whined about everything.
Her family thought she had scored a coup by connecting with a palace wizard. Her age was not an issue.
He figured Carrie would move on if she had a chance to move up.
That was good enough.
Carrie was mercenary but she gave good value. These days she laid into her work with nurturing enthusiasm and was a good resource for understanding what ordinary Vorgrebergers thought.
Carrie said, “You shouldn’t fuss about the wizard. Just acknowledge what you know.”
Wow. This was a far cry from constant whining for new shoes and clothes.
She was more confident now, maybe because he treated her like a real, thinking companion when not using her to satisfy the consuming need that had driven him to find her.
“Hmm?”
“You probably shouldn’t waste time taking a nap. That wizard has more resources than you do.”
“Time with you is never wasted.” He meant that so sincerely that it did not sound corny.
“You are a devil man.” She began to shed her clothing.
Babeltausque became uncomfortable when she did that in the light, which too plainly revealed how much she had ripened.
She would be fully a woman soon.
He was useless with grown-up women.
Chapter Twenty-One:
Winter, Year 1017 AFE:
An Era Ended
S easons were not extreme at Sebil el Selib. Winters were cooler but seldom really cold. Most years it was damper but not remarkably so. Those who grew up there and did not travel could not conceive of the fury of a thunderstorm.
Some knew sandstorms but even those had to be experienced elsewhere.
On rare occasions the wind did shift enough to bring a taste of alkali off the salt pans.
Rains, even in this year’s notably wet seasons, seldom amounted to more than sustained heavy drizzles.
Haroun eased his head through a slit in the exterior wall of El Murid’s tent. Rain was still falling in what locals considered torrents. It was cold. The wadi boiled with raging brown water. He muttered, “Twenty years of this and the ancient seas will be back.”