The Trees And The Night (Book 3) (26 page)

“You talk of eliminating men I’ve grown to trust and respect, men of superior military training and ability, men loyal to my master,” said the follower narrowing his eyes. “What’s in this proposition for me?”

Prophar raised an eyebrow then smiled.

“The properties and assets of that master,” replied the Lord Chamberlain. “Ample reward if I do say so myself. You will rule the lands and fortunes built up by your own sweat and labor. All here are acknowledge it a princely sum.”

The follower glanced about the room. Obviously the men here had accepted a similar promise. Each was offered the properties he managed. Interesting that they chose to make this offer to him. The ranch hands under his employ were a formidable bunch, but if all the estate managers present committed their own forces, they could certainly overwhelm any resistance the follower could muster against them.

Uncertainty. That must be their only concern. The follower kept his dealings and affairs covert. The Lord Chamberlain and his associates could never be certain what alliances the follower arranged. Did the estates of his master hold weaponry and defenses of which they were unaware? Did the follower possess a means to summon help from the Eru? Many merchants and artisans within the river city’s walls held close business arrangements with the follower. He was extremely generous in all of his dealings and the citizens of Rindor held him in high esteem. Could he lead an uprising and supplant any attempt by the Lord Chamberlain to overthrow the kingdom?

They were so bewildered by the options he might possess that they found it easier to concede and allow him a share in their plan. These men were ruthless but not stupid. His master’s estates were quite possibly the plum of the kingdom. However, they were small price to pay for the riches all would acquire if their plans succeeded.

“Your proposition has merit,” the follower said to Prophar. “The world is moving in a direction many of our employers are unprepared for. However, there are particulars that need work. First, it is obvious to see how all here will profit from this undertaking except you, my lord. I entertain some theories but would like to hear it from you directly.”

Prophar grinned and leaned forward.

“The palace and all within are mine,” chortled the Lord Chamberlain. “That is all I ask.”

The follower pursed his lips and nodded, contemplating the development.

“Also a princely sum,” muttered the follower.

“Yes,” replied Prophar shifting back in his chair and shrugging, “but others here stand to gain so much more financially. In reality, I ask for a pittance.”

Those about the table acknowledged the sense of Prophar’s statement. All intimately knew the wealth of each of their master’s holdings and could easily see it far outweighed the fortune held within the palace. In these days of shortage and hunger, land and livestock mattered so much more than statues and gold.

“You ask for a trifling of tangible wealth,” corrected the follower, “but the intangibles you acquire are immeasurable.”

The assembled managers frowned and exchanged questions. Prophar’s expression soured and he glared across the table. The follower silently stared back. Olean sat forward with hands clamped on the table.

“What do you mean?” asked the big, white haired man.

The follower smirked and swept his vision across the men.

“I’ve dealt with nearly all of you,” answered the follower, “and all of you display weaknesses that I exploited over the years.”

An angry murmur built throughout the room. The follower continued.

“However, the one weakness you all possess in common is greed. The Lord Chamberlain exploits that greed now and you follow him like pigs to the slaughterhouse.”

“Ridiculous!” bellowed Clitch.

The follower narrowed his eyes at his sponsor to the event.

“Ridiculous?” questioned the follower. “Tell me Master Clitch. What good is your timber and wool if you are enthralled to a new King of Rindor?”

“What new king?” spluttered Clitch, “We intend to remove the current one.”

“And hand the seat of power, the symbol of command to the Lord Chamberlain,” scoffed the follower. “The nature of most men is to follow. A true leader is a very rare thing. The citizens within these walls will readily follow anyone seated upon the throne within that palace. I am sure the wealth of the place does not measure that of your houses, but as a symbol its wealth is incalculable.”

The men around the table glanced nervously between the follower and Prophar. The silence hung in the air. Finally, the Lord Chamberlain spoke in a hiss.

“Fools. We offer him more than he deserves and even now he makes a play for greater control.”

Their eyes shot back to the follower.

“Lest you forget, it was I who engineered this scheme,” continued Prophar. “It is I who can manipulate all of its pieces and make it happen. He plants seeds of doubt to undermine my position. However, he doesn’t own the connections to implement the plan on his own.”

Prophar stood with fists clenched.

“You were a threat and a small one at that,” growled Prophar rounding on the follower. “We graciously offered you a piece of the plan to avoid any small annoyance you might throw our way, and you repay it by sowing the seeds of discord.”

The follower crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

“I was a threat ....?” questioned the follower.

“Do you think we would allow you to leave this room with the knowledge you possess?” snapped the Lord Chamberlain. “This meeting was not about affording you a choice.”

Prophar moved forward, his hand resting upon the sword girded to his waist. The follower remained relaxed as the bewildered men encircled him.

“No,” grinned the follower. “I didn’t think you would wish me to leave this room .... but you will allow it nonetheless.”

“What are you babbling ....” began Prophar.

Suddenly, there was a series of knocks upon the door, three quick taps followed by a pair. Prophar whirled toward the heavy oak door then surveyed the men about the table.

“All are here,” growled the Lord Chamberlain. “Were any of you followed?”

“No.”

“Absolutely not, my lord.”

The chorus of protests continued. Prophar’s upper lip curled in disdain as he stared once more at the smiling follower. The Lord Chamberlain moved toward the door and unbolted it. He drew it open slowly and peered though a narrow crack. Those at the table tensely stared at his back.

“What do you want?” asked the chamberlain through the crack.

“I am here on my master’s business,” said a weak and raspy voice.

“Who is your master?” asked Prophar.

“Master Hunly of the estates of Manfir of Zodra.” came the feeble reply.

Prophar glared over his shoulder at the follower. Teeg, in his role as Hunly, returned the look with a wide grin. The Lord Chamberlain threw the door wide and waved in a hunched-over old woman. She was dressed in a heavy coat and shawl. Her gray hair lay tangled beneath a dingy scarf and hung over her eyes and face.

“It seems Master Hunly has seen fit to have this washer woman follow him to our meeting,” barked Prophar as he glared now at Clitch.

“Kill them both!” shouted Olean, rising so abruptly from his seat to grasp his sword that his chair clattered to the floor behind him.

“You always were a fool, Olean,” clucked Teeg still lazing in his chair.

“Not so much a fool that I cannot slit your throat, Hunly,” snarled Olean preparing to round the table.

Prophar blocked his path.

“You are a fool, Olean,” snapped the Lord Chamberlain. “Sit down.”

The big man halted and backed from Prophar.

“But we must ....”

“We must nothing, you imbecile,” said Prophar coldly. “Do you think all he did was order this washerwoman to follow us? We extoll the very preparedness and intellect of the man, yet you think him fool enough to direct only this washerwoman as his salvation?”

Olean looked from Prophar to Teeg. The Elf lord remained fully immersed in his role as Hunly, the overseer of the properties of Manfir. Teeg displayed all the confidence that made Hunly such a successful businessman. He sat up and pulled his chair closer to the table. His expression went grave.

“Sit down, Olean,” Teeg ordered.

The red faced Rindoran glanced to Prophar then complied.

“You as well, Prophar,” commanded Teeg. “I don’t like a man behind me as I conduct business.”

Prophar’s eyes narrowed and he returned to his seat at the table. The washerwoman remained in the shadows near the door.

“Gentlemen, it appears that I have created a difficulty in your plans for the overthrow of the Rindoran government,” said Teeg icily.

“No plan is fool proof,” replied Prophar. “We are businessmen, Hunly. We will adapt and overcome.”

“How?” asked Teeg, “I seem to hold all the cards in this game. This woman is simply a display of my knowledge. She is proof that I retain other, more capable employees monitoring this locale. They watch this alley as we speak. Any who leave will be known to them, so do not think your identities will remain secret.

“I instructed them to send for the king’s guard if I have not exited safely from this locale in one hour’s time. They will report a dire threat to the kingdom.

“You may presume your names and affiliations will save you, but I believe you will encounter the devil of a time explaining this meeting. Why have some of the most powerful commoners in the kingdom united in the dead of night during a time of war? Your absence from the properties you control in this time of terror and strife is highly unusual and suspect.”

“He lies,” barked Olean.

Prophar’s lips were stretched thin across his face with tension. Teeg raised an eyebrow at the white-haired overseer.

“A lie, Olean? No, not a lie, but I did make one miscalculation,” admitted Teeg.

A wicked smile of satisfaction played across Olean’s face.

“I used the old woman because I thought it beneath even you to harm someone innocent and ignorant of the matters we discuss,” continued Teeg, “but obviously, Master Olean, nothing is beneath you.”

Olean glared at Teeg as Prophar broke in.

“You seem to believe we preserved no options,” commented the Lord Chamberlain. “Why then do you tarry with your report? What are you waiting for? The Hunly I know never makes a move without availing himself of all the information at hand. Is this your plan?”

“You know me well, Prophar,” smiled Teeg. “I must hear all you plan to make a proper decision, but first I insured myself the upper hand in this situation.”

All in the room relaxed save Olean. Clitch even allowed a slight wink toward Teeg. The man already convinced himself that Hunly acted as always. Master Hunly of the estates of Manfir simply worked in his own best interest. It was business, pure and simple. Prophar stroked the thin beard that traced his mouth.

“The Spear is a weeks march from the north gate and will never return to Rindor,” stated Prophar confidently. “Three dozen of the king’s guard maintain order within the city proper. The wealth and power of Rindor are there for the taking. We must simply ...”

“Prophar,” interrupted Olean. “You intend to tell him all?”

The Lord Chamberlain spun on Olean.

“He thinks he holds power,” laughed Prophar, “but in reality we stand at a stalemate. If he leaves and spreads word of deceit and treason, we have simply to refute it. Who is to say what was truly uttered within these four walls? We are all citizens of equal or greater standing than the great Master Hunly. Corad Kingfisher is gone and Queen Lucyn is a simpleton. She will take the word of a dozen loyal subjects and her chamberlain over that of one man.

“Also, I will tell him because we need him. When he learns all, he will see that resistance is futile. Once he hears, he will have no choice than to cast his lot with us and follow the plan.”

The two men faced one another for a moment then Olean nodded his head in compliance. Prophar spun back to Teeg. All eyes locked on the chamberlain.

“The Keltar will come first. Zodra is their target,” said the chamberlain. “They will pound the city down and eventually occupy it. However, they will not hold it long. Their battle with the Zodrians will weaken them. The giants will not withstand the measured might of the Ulrog Horde as it sweeps from the North. All will fall before the stone men.

“Once Zodra is taken, the Ulrog will move on the South. Luxlor and the Elven vermin are their goal, but they cannot afford to leave Rindor at their back. They will pour all of their efforts here to smash the river city. That is when we will make our move. Men under our control will overthrow the few remaining soldiers and we will turn the city over.”

“For what?” exclaimed Teeg, “So we can all be executed in the streets?”

Prophar laughed.

“Even you, the wise Master Hunly, swallow the lies and stories fed to us by our rulers. For years we complied with all the nobles asked out of fear. The Ulrog, the Keltar and even our Zodrian allies are portrayed as threats to the kingdom in order for us to do as we are told and keep the line of Kingfisher upon the throne.

“What have we achieved? Nothing. Corad and his brood remain on the throne and our city grows stagnant. We are kept in check by fear. Fear propagated by our rulers.”

“But we are prosperous. The city thrives while our neighbors to the North grow hungry,” protested Teeg.