The Invisible Hands - Part 1: Gambit (9 page)

The future of Great Renuvia might depend upon it.”

Rullio grinned.

“The future of Great Renuvia, eh?”

“What about my future?” he thought.

Ehandar weighed his words.

“I understand you owe Father a debt of gratitude.”

“Not only gratitude, Ehandar. By creating me a count he gave me my life back. You know that very well. I owe him literally everything.”

“My brother could give you lands and a title.”

“Renuvian nobility?”

“No, Father almost automatically confirms Anaxantis's elevations.

You're a Ximerionian noble by birth. That won't ever change, only your revenues would come from Renuvian demesnes.”

Rullio looked at him with a twinkle in his eyes.

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“It still wouldn't be the same, would it?”

“Listen, as the third son I was created count of two demesnes and duke of Ronickah at birth. They're all managed by the Royal Administration and I get the revenues. I think I visited the duchy twice, maybe thrice. I have money of my own. I can't give you the duchy. It has been reserved for younger royal princes for centuries. I could, however, give you one of the counties. They're mine and I can dispose of them as I see fit. I could, eh, fill the treasury of the county. You wouldn't have to worry about a thing.”

“Ehandar, what a strange offer. I'm almost offended. It's as if you think I might betray you.”

“No, no,” the prince said, far too quickly, “of course I think no such thing. I just want you to know that I can, that I will compensate you for any possible losses you might incur in the service of my brother. In lands, in standing, in money. So will he himself, I'm sure.”

Rullio gave him a radiant smile.

“Thank you, my prince, but you needn't have told me. I knew that already. You've never been less than a most generous friend.”

Ehandar laughed, relieved.

“Think nothing of it, Rullio. We always were the underdogs. Anaxantis was even more of one than us, you know? We should stick together.”

“Yes, we should,” the count assented.

“Except, my dear friend, your little brother might have been an underdog, but you can hardly say the Mukthar Slayer is much of one.

And he has other options as well. Ah, why can't you see that love is fleeting? Enjoy it while it lasts, but don't get attached to it, or it will destroy you. Friendship is far more enduring in the end. But, for better or for worse, you seem to have made your choice and as your friend I 7
will respect that. I'm sure I can manage to do that and hang on to Aldemon at the same time.”

They had reached a crossroads. Ehandar leaned over and slung an arm around his friend.

“Be careful, Rullio, and return safely to us.”

“See?” Rullio quipped. “This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. You getting all mushy on me.”

“Just take care,” Ehandar said, “and don't take any unnecessary risks. There are few enough of us left as it is.”

Rullio looked him in the eyes, his face serious and sincere.

“I will, my friend, I will. And thank you for your concern. Don't worry about a thing. It will all work out. You'll see.”

Ehandar waited until Rullio had crossed the road and was well on his way to the Northern Highway. Then he turned his horse and rode back. After the first bend he halted. In less than a minute Gorth appeared out of the woods that bordered the road. He was on foot and led his horse by the reins. The prince dismounted as well. He took a canvas folder tied together with leather straps, and a purse out of one of his saddlebags.

“He's on his way then?” Gorth asked.

“Yes,” Ehandar answered. “Slowly but certainly. You know our Rullio. He won't dally, but he won't make haste either.”

“And if a handsome lad catches his eyes, he will take his time and try to make up for it later by slightly increasing his pace,” Gorth added, grinning.

“He decided not to hire a horse from the Merchant Guild which would have allowed him to frequently change it for a rested one in any 7
Guild Post. He didn't see the need, he said. That means he's planning

to travel at a leisurely pace, in easy stages.”

“Luckily, I did hire one of the Merchant Guild,” Gorth replied, patting his horse. “They've got fine steeds, the Guild.”

Ehandar handed him the folder.

“There are letters in there. General ones to prove you are acting on my behalf and specific ones for my notary and my bankers. You have access to all my funds. Whatever you need paid for, just pay it. Don't be stingy, don't haggle, don't think twice. We need to rebuild from zero.”

“You don't trust our friend?”

Ehandar sighed. He handed Gorth the purse.

“Travel money… It's not that. I just want us to have independent, reliable intelligence. My brother is far too cavalier. He and our friend don't seem to like each other very much. I warned him Rullio is… vulnerable. He made light of it all.”

“And you want to make sure?”

“Precisely. It doesn't reflect on Rullio. I just want to double-check.

And avoid mistakes are being made, or misunderstandings occurring.”

“I see.”

“I'm doing what Rullio himself proposed. I'm trying to regroup.

That begins with sound information.”

“And what our friend doesn't know, he can't inadvertently let slip
out to Father.”

“OK,” Gorth said, “first I'll investigate what remains of the old network at Ormidon.”

“Network?” Ehandar scoffed. “I had exactly one royal scribe in my pay and even so it was sheer luck that he was involved in writing the 7
secret charter Father gave the late general Tarngord. A higher up clerk was taken ill at the time. The others… they hardly count.”

He made a dismissive gesture.

“I'll investigate them anyway.”

“Be extremely careful, Gorth. I have no idea how effective the use of my name will be. I wasn't exactly popular, or thought of as influential to begin with.”

“I plan not so much using your name as your money, Ehandar.

Money is plenty influential and even more popular. People literally can't seem to get enough of it,” Gorth joked encouragingly.

Ehandar wrested his ring off of his finger and handed it over.

“Here, to make extra sure you are believed.”

“Ehandar, your seal…” Gorth said, reluctant to accept it.

The prince pressed the little golden object into his hand.

“You're one of the few people I would trust with it.”

“Besides, I had gotten used to the idea of it being gone forever.”

Gorth was visibly touched.

“Right,” he said decisively, to break the tension. “I'll try to get us a skeleton network in Ormidon. Do you want me to go to Nira after that?”

“I want you back here as soon as possible, Gorth. But I'll leave the decision to you. If you think it's necessary, by all means go to Fort Nira. On the other hand, the problems, in the form of troops, are coming to Ormidon. We should be able to learn all we need to know in the capital.”

“I should be on my way then. I'm going to follow our friend from a distance, and when he seeks lodgings for the night, I'll overtake him

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and put some distance between us. You'll get news from me before

you'll hear anything from him. I promise.”

They embraced.

“Be careful, Gorth, very careful.” Ehandar said. “Look out for the Black Shields,” he added.

“Don't worry, I will,” Gorth replied, grinning with the careless boldness of youth.

He mounted and rode off, while Ehandar followed him pensively with his eyes until he disappeared behind the bend in the road. Then he himself mounted and rode back to Lorseth, deeply absorbed in thought.

“You're far too trusting, little brother. Far too trusting.”

“Don’t tell me you fell for that,” Tomar said in an irked manner to Hemarchidas.

“It seemed logical. It is logical, isn’t it? You buy grain cheaper in Dermolhea, but then it
is
in Dermolhea, and not where you want it,”

the Cheridonian answered, not too sure anymore if his case was sound. “Transport costs money, doesn’t it?” he added, even less sure.

“Of course it doesn’t. Not for us, it doesn’t. He pulled one over on you. He tried it with me as well. But I’m not naive.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The little slippery eel thought I wouldn’t either. Ah, Hemarchidas… How do we arrange for the troops to go on leave?”

“What? Oh… Well, usually we give them leave as a unit. As long as the Plains aren’t completely safe and settled, it’s less dangerous that way. Also, it allows them to chase rogue remnants of the Renuvian 7
Plain Robbers and other groups that threaten the peace, should they

encounter them.”

“Exactly. Then they disband in the base camp at Dermolhea, where they are expected to reassemble three weeks later and make the journey back. As a unit.”

He looked with raised eyebrows at Hemarchidas.

“So?” the Cheridonian asked, still not understanding.

“They go back Hemarchidas, back to wherever they are stationed.

Where they will need grain.”

“Ah.”

“Yes. Why not let them transport their own grain from Dermolhea, where we — let me stress this little detail — can buy it cheap, to wherever they will need it? We pay them already. What’s wrong with letting them work for their money?”

“Damn. Of course. Why didn’t I see that? When he explained it, he made it seem so self-evident.”

“He always does that,” Tomar said dryly.

“Still, you gave in.”

“Yes, I did. When was the last time you refused him something he really wanted? Scrap that. When did you refuse him anything ever?”

“I see what you mean,” Hemarchidas mumbled.

“To be fair, he’s not completely wrong, you know. He wants to settle the Plains as quickly as possible. For that he relies on a series of generous policies that work together. Free land in some cases, cheap loans to start a shop or a farm, protection by our troops who will spend part of their money near where they’re stationed, high prices for locally produced goods, tight control over the new nobility and help with establishing local communities, including uniform charters and 7
standardized regulations for the government of the new villages and

towns. In the end it might pay off, I think.”

Hemarchidas whistled.

“He has been busy. Where does he find time to exercise and spend time with us on the training grounds?”

“He says he does most of his thinking in the evenings. One morning he came into my office with rough plans for a village. He thought we should offer settlers a set of instructions, sort of a manual. We already look out for suitable places for them, but he also wants them to take care of waste evacuation, drainage and so on, to avoid epidemics.

So we have to provide them with plans for a sewage system, which they will be obligated by law to build. Then he wants us to give them plans for the construction of communal buildings and defense works.

And a lot of other things. The lords have to take care of roads, bridges and woods, and keep the peace, among other things.”

“Where does he get all that?”

“Mainly out of books, he says. I think a lot of those so-called innov— ations are actually not so new. Most of them are probably practiced already in Zyntrea and some of the city states. Though I suspect he alters them.”

“And you have to help him organize all that?”

“Not that alone. There are a few other things he wants as well.”

“Things?”

“Yes, things. ‘Tomar, I want the harbor in Renuvia dug out. Tomar, I want a big, broad bridge over the Mirax. A stone bridge, Tomar, not one made of wood. Tomar, I want a harbor, here at Lorseth. Tomar, I want a ship.‘ Gods, there’s no end to it. And it all costs bucket loads of money.”

“A ship? He wants a ship?”

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“Yes, a ship.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Get him a ship. What else?”

“I’m going to invite everyone to Landemere Castle for the Midwinter to New Year period,” Anaxantis said. “Mother will be coming too. At least I hope she will.”

“You’re taking your time,” Hemarchidas replied. “I would have thought you’d have been more worried.”