Gambit of the Glass Crowns: Vol. I of epic fantasy The Sundered Kingdoms Trilogy (18 page)

Madoc looked on the Senate with disdainful boredom. These old men had a way of making even the most interesting of discussions painfully garrulous, and he did not give a fiddler’s fart as to what any of them had to say. He attended the meeting only in an effort to keep up appearances in the absence of his father and, even then, only at the insistence of Steward Tristram.

Pulled with the strength of four guards, the heavy doors creaked and groaned as they scraped across the stone floor. The uncomfortably warm room was thick with incense, a decrepit formality from earlier days of Annwyd when religion was as entwined with the Senate as the stars in the night sky. The resins from Ordanis tossed on the coals of the braziers were pungent and sharp to Madoc’s unaccustomed nostrils. The stench was for keeping those in attendance awake, if nothing else. It would be nearly impossible to sleep, no matter the plague of boredom.

Sequestered to the confines of the upper tier, afforded to guests of the senators, he was to remain reticent‌—‌yet another insulting reminder he wielded no power of his own. Though his father was the head of House Denorheim, a seat always held by the King of Annwyd, he wielded no more power than the other five houses of the Senate. Madoc balked at the foolish tradition, carried on by equally foolish men. How could one hold the entire kingdom in the palm of his hand, and need only grasp it, yet deny himself? It was not restraint his father showed, but weakness.

While the five houses and the provinces they formed within Annwyd sprung from an idea of balance not afforded to them in Ordanis’ absolute monarchy, it instead fostered incessant quarreling amongst them all. Each house wished for Annwyd’s prosperity, but it was a rare moment when any of them agreed on a single course of action for the future.

The oldest of the houses, Denorheim, Valifor, and Boraste, formed simultaneously at the dawn of Annwyd. They remained the pillars on which the kingdom stood. It was decided that, to present a united front to outside forces, Denorheim would peacefully rise to power. It became the capital on the marshy mainland with the understanding that the king was but a figurehead of Annwyd. Thusly, Castle Rotham was constructed. Whilst Denorheim was afforded the mainland, Valifor and Boraste divided the Ddrych Island in equal halves between themselves as a political stronghold against outside opponents. The three houses prospered for years and proved their united strength in declaring independence from Ordanis and in their rejection of Cærwyn’s advances to combine the kingdoms.

“My own son, Reese, saw it for himself when he rode north‌—” Vaughn Garanth’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “The entirety of the camp was slaughtered. He was white as a ghost when he relayed the news to me. There was no lie in his eyes.”

Grigor Boraste chuckled. “Or perhaps your son merely frightens too easily.”

Madoc could see the slight twinge of suppressed anger on Vaughn’s brow. He thought Vaughn would roar with anger at the insult to his son, but he did not take the bait offered to him. He was one of the oldest members of the Senate and had learned long ago the subtleties of diplomacy. He merely sat back in his chair with unwavering discipline and stroked his white beard, thinking silently to himself which careful retort in his arsenal he should choose.

“Perhaps he did frighten too easily, Lord Boraste, but only The Maker knows that now. He suffered much injury to his person to carry the message back to me and now lies in the tomb of my forefathers. My son’s possible fright does not negate the problem. The Gethin are moving south, if not in hordes, scouting parties. If they are so bold as to attack an Annwydian camp, it is but a matter of time before they come down as a whole across Dweömer.”

Grigor held his tongue. He sympathized with Vaughn, having lost one of his own sons this past spring. Begrudgingly, he admitted to himself that Vaughn also spoke the truth, but refused to acknowledge it visibly, leaving his face blank.

Vaughn was head of House Garanth and sat beneath the sigil of the wheel. As each house participated in duties regarding the upkeep of the kingdom, House Garanth was responsible for internal judicial affairs. At his beck and call were the six district Magisters which were second in power only to the senators seated at the meeting. Each Magister took charge of matters of law under Vaughn’s guidance, protocol which was not appreciated by all, in particular Grigor Boraste, who took great offense at the assumption of power granted to House Garanth.

A slender man tossed his hair to the side and leaned forward, hands clasped. “If what Lord Garanth’s son witnessed was, in fact, the work of Gethin warriors, we must prepare. We have relied on the assumption that Gweliwch stood as a barrier between the Gethin and our borders. Our complacence is a weakness which we can no longer allow.”

Madoc recognized him: Senator Kendric Pahne. Kendric was the newest member of the Senate, appointed after his father’s death. Barely in his twentieth year, he was graceful and beautiful as the dawn with tousled golden locks crowning his slender face. Despite having been in the Senate for less than half a year, he was well prepared and showed great promise for his vocation. He let neither his youth nor that of his house distract from his confidence. It was his youth and flamboyance which proved to be his greatest asset. His opponents misjudged him and often overlooked his crafty ways because of his age.

Having taken several high-ranking lovers in the Annwydian army, he sought to make his personal goal to learn all he could of warfare. He wished to at least appear loquacious in senatorial disputes, despite having no desire to take part in war itself. His appetence for both knowledge and finely chiseled men knew no stately bounds. His latest, Caden, was a foot soldier in the Gwelian army who wandered into Annwyd on a scouting mission, immediately seduced by the young senator’s charm and status.

“And what would you suggest?” Grigor laughed gruffly and crossed his arms. “You who sit under the banner of the scythe‌—‌that of the lowly farmer.”

Kendric mocked Grigor’s movement and limply crossed his arms with a sneer. “Do not forget, Lord Boraste, a scythe can cut as well as any sword and far more swiftly. It is the ‘lowly farmer’ which keeps the bellies of your men fat like suckling pigs.”

“I would tend to agree with Lord Pahne, but our coffers are soon to run dry if we cannot further our reach westward.”

Madoc looked over to the direction of the gruff voice. “We have no hope to face a Gethin invasion without the gold to pay for our armies. We have spread ourselves much too thinly already.”

The man was Einion Malik, current seat holder from the house of the anvil. Constructed from the masons and ironworkers who formed settlements in the outlying Brynlands, House Malik was an obvious choice to further the expansion of Annwyd. As such, Einion oversaw the manufacture of the methods of war they would desperately need were they to face the Gethin.

Kendric Pahne gave a sideward glance to Madoc. “Far be it for me to doubt the merits of well-accomplished hedonism, but were our king’s spending not so extraordinary we might be more prepared for what is to come.”

Madoc would have been insulted by the accusation against his father, were it not true. Instead, he quietly observed the telling glances of others. It was plain to see they were all in agreement with Senator Pahne.

Amidst the unspoken looks, Culhwch Valifor spoke out first. “It is true; King Denorheim spends lavishly and builds his own defenses while the rest of Annwyd suffers in near squalor.”

Madoc managed to contain his anger while the others all agreed that his father was unfitting to hold the throne. But then, he could no longer stay silent. “I was under the impression the dogs of Gweliwch guarded the borders of Dweömer. If they have failed at that, perhaps it is on Cærwyn where blame should be placed, and where our aggressions should be directed.” He quickly realized he should not have spoken as all eyes fell upon him.

“It is admirable that you wish to defend your father, young prince, but do not forget your place. You are here as a courtesy, but you have no say in matters of state.” Mihangel’s anger that Madoc had spoken above his status was apparent. Madoc knew all too well, were Mihangel to wish it, he could be banished from the Senate.

Stuff it up your arse! “
You have my apologies, Master Mihangel.”

An ancient man, unaffiliated with any house, Mihangel had been the head of the Senate for three generations and was the sole tie breaker in deadlocked votes. His long hair, filled with braids, retained none of its former color. Dressed in long white robes, he could have been mistaken for a priest were it not for the gold bands woven into his braids and the heavy brocade on his outermost robe. Priests of The One were not permitted to wear such adornments.

“Perhaps it would be best for you to take your leave.” Mihangel spoke with stern authority and a cold gaze that Madoc thought could freeze a flowing river.

Who are you to speak as such to me, crown prince of Annwyd? If you were not surrounded by the senators, I would have you flogged for such a thing!

“Yes, perhaps it would be best.” Madoc stood. “I shall leave you to your matters of Senate.”

Kendric watched as the door closed behind Madoc and his tongue quickly snapped. “He is an insolent brat.”

“Keep silent,” Vaughn warned. “The same was said of you before you took your seat and were given a chance to prove yourself for your house. While the prince may be young, he already shows that he is quite intelligent when it comes to politics, and he has his spies everywhere, ever plotting his rise to the throne.”

“Annwyd stands precariously on the edge of a blade.” Mihangel’s voice strained, and he struggle with a hoarse cough, unable to stop for a few moments as spittle flew from his mouth into his quivering hand. Finally, he took a deep breath and wiped the corner of his mouth. “Everything this Senate has worked toward for generations could fail should Madoc take the throne.”

“The king is in good health.”

Mihangel sighed, still recovering from his coughing fit. “Braith may be a man in good health, but how long can he stay that way?”

“Do you think Madoc would spill his own father’s blood for the crown?”

“I do not profess to have any foreknowledge of such matters, but I have seen the drive in Madoc’s eyes‌—‌his lust for power.”

Kendric cracked his knuckles. “I am not one to wish for bodily harm to befall any person…‌well, most persons. However, I would ask if it would not be better if the young prince were to perish before he was of age to take the throne.”

A hush came over the room and none were certain of an outcome to the comment.

Vaughn Garanth broke the silence. “’Tis a true pity the Lady Bronwen was not born a son. She is quite intelligent and versed well in matters of state, having paid close attention to her father’s affairs.”

“She is also pious, unlike her brother.” Mihangel nodded.

Kendric smirked at the thought of Bronwen’s piety. He was quite fond of her crafty demeanor, which was not unlike his own, though her piety was hardly unblemished with her quest for power. “I cannot help but take notice that she also has found her part to play in the shaping of things, and manages to pursue it with at least some enthusiasm. While Cærwyn may lack the structure which makes Annwyd great, they are still a powerful kingdom with many supporters. As queen consort of Cærwyn, she may do much for our people as well as her own.”

“Should her brother not interfere,” Vaughn Garanth quickly added.

“It is a strange thing still that she cares for her brother while he shows her such disdain. Perhaps Madoc knows a cock does not, in fact, make one all the better to lead a kingdom.”

“Perhaps the young prince will outgrow his perceived lust for power and become a great king in time,” said Grigor Boraste.

Mihangel inhaled deeply. “It is possible, but will he be ready to take the throne when we need him most? My doubts shall not be easily quelled. I fear Madoc’s growing power. He draws many supporters‌—‌more than his father had at such a young age.”

Vaughn shifted in his seat and turned toward Mihangel. “It is true that his popularity has grown increasingly in the last season, for reasons which I do not understand. He has made very few public appearances‌—”

“The people like tradition,” Grigor interrupted. “Kings have come from House Denorheim since the formation of Annwyd.”

“Some traditions are antiquated.” Kendric crossed his arms once more. “Why not one of the other houses?”

“And I suppose you would suggest House Pahne, of course.” Beneath furrowed brows, Grigor shot a fiery glance at Kendric.

“I have no delusions of sitting upon the throne of Annwyd. I would think the clear decision would be for the Senate to take a vote.”

“Let us remain calm.” Mihangel raised his hands. “To speak of such matters while King Denorheim is not in attendance strays toward treason. He remains a fair king, although misguided at times. We shall speak more of these matters upon his return.”