“My lord?”
“You’re late,” Tiernach said without looking up, quill scratching delicately over the parchment on his desk.
“My apologies. I was held up.”
“By who?”
“The First.”
Tiernach did look up now, his eyes narrowing as he looked across his desk at Katrina.
“What is he doing here?”
“It appears he has some instructions, regarding the running of Lordenor during the king’s absence. He wanted me to tell you... that you are to implement them at the first possible opportunity.”
“Did he...” Tiernach watched her carefully, but she stood motionless, not giving away any hint of emotion. “And what, pray tell, are his ‘instructions’?”
Katrina placed placed an envelope on the desk. Tiernach opened it scanned the parchment inside.
“This is unacceptable.”
“I fear, my Lord, that you have little choice. The First instructed me to tell you that this is a part of the deal you have made.”
Tiernach’s fist clenched. “This was never a part of the deal!”
“If you want what the Eye can offer, my Lord, it will have to be.”
Tiernach growled, the muscles at the side of his jaw working for a moment before he regained control. “Very well,” he snapped. “I can see I have little choice. These orders appear to be signed by my father.”
“Yes,” Katrina nodded.
“How?”
“There is a herb used by the Brotherhood,” she said carefully. “It can be mixed into a drink, almost tasteless. It leaves the drinker very open to suggestion, and with no recollection of the events. It is most effective, in such cases.”
“You drugged my father?” Tiernach put the parchment down slowly.
“It is quite harmless, beyond what I have said.”
Tiernach stood up, walking around his desk to stand directly in front of Katrina, staring deep into her eyes.
“I thought I had been very clear that no harm was to be done to my family.” Tiernach’s voice was dangerously low, and it sent a shiver down Katrina’s spine, making her tail curl involuntarily.
“My Lord,” she licked her lips, half captivated by Tiernach’s gaze, half angry with herself for being so. “I cannot disobey an order from the First. He speaks for the Eye.”
“And what of my orders?”
“I will... I will obey them where I can, my Lord.”
“You will?”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Excellent,” Tiernach stepped around her, standing at her back and whispering into her ear. “Now listen to me. You know what it is the Eye seeks?”
“Resurrection.”
“Precisely. Up to that point, we may be reasonably sure of maintaining any deals we make. Beyond that... do you trust Tyrandius? Or the First?”
“My Lord?”
“Would you trust Tyrandius once he has what he wants?” Tiernach reiterated.
Katrina didn’t answer, her heart thudding inside her as Tiernach placed his hands upon her shoulders.
“You see, already there are signs of it. The First changes the rules as he sees fit.”
Katrina nodded, taking a sharp breath as Tiernach’s lips brushed her ear.
“When that day comes, I need to know where your loyalties will lie,” he whispered. “Between us, we can be sure of our reward. Together, we are strong enough to guarantee this. Alone we are at the mercy of the whims of the first.”
“My loyalties will lie with you, my Lord,” Katrina closed her eyes and purred as his strong hands ran down from her shoulders along her spine.
“I am far more trustworthy than the First, and I think you know that.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“If you are prepared to obey me, you will find that you are much more likely to come out of this with what you want.” One hand rested on the base of her tail.
“I will obey you, my Lord,” her breath trembled as she spoke, her tone hushed.
“Do not lie to me, Katrina,” Tiernach warned softly, his hands suddenly grabbing her arms roughly, propelling her across the room and pinning her against the wall. His muzzle was by her ear again, sharp teeth glinting in the candle light.
“I am not, my Lord!”
“I know full well you do not like to take orders, Katrina,” Tiernach hissed. “You like to give them, don’t you?”
“I will take your orders, my Lord.”
“Above the First, if I ask it?”
“If you ask it, my Lord.”
“You will give me your complete loyalty?”
“I will.”
Tiernach felt her trembling under his hands, and smiled.
“Then listen very closely. The Dragon Staff was not Tyrandius’ only creation. There was another weapon, a powerful weapon, that he does not know the whereabouts of. It is only a matter of time before he seeks it, when the Brotherhood has the manpower to begin a search, perhaps when the staff is complete. When he asks for it, I will use my influence to ensure that you are placed in charge of that search. When you find it, you will return that weapon not to the First, not to the Eye, but to me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my Lord,” Katrina shivered. “Anything you desire, you shall possess. I have only ever seen you succeed in this.”
“And yet,” Tiernach placed his hands lightly against the back of her neck, his breath hot between her ears. “There is one more thing I desire that I do not yet possess.”
Katrina felt herself tremble with his touch, shivering under the mysterious power he held over her.
“Anything that I can give, my Lord, is yours for the taking,” she gasped as she felt his lips press against her ear.
“I was hoping you would say that,” he breathed.
“Alley?”
Aleana jumped. “Kaja,” she gasped, pulling away from the window, a patch of steam slowly evaporating from the cold diamonds of glass. She realised she must have been so involved with her thoughts that she hadn’t heard him enter the room.
“Are you all right?” the tall leonin asked softly.
“Of course,” she nodded.
“It’s just, you’ve seemed a little... distracted, since father left,” Kaja said, choosing his words with care.
Aleana closed her eyes for a moment, turning her head back to the window. “It is nothing,” she said quietly. “I am simply being foolish.”
“It’s perfectly natural to be worried...”
“I am not worried,” she said quickly. “He has many good and loyal soldiers with him. He will come home.” She paused for several breaths, then swallowed. “He will come home...” she repeated. She said it bravely, but Kaja heard the faint note of question in her voice.
“Of course he will,” he smiled reassuringly. “Of course he will, Alley. He’s well protected, and will always be so. You know that.”
“I know that...” Aleana echoed quietly. She closed her eyes again. “I am afraid for him, though,” she whispered.
Kaja took a step closer and put his arms around her.
“It’s all right, little sister,” he said gently, holding her as she rested her head against his chest. “It’s all right. Father will come home, you can be sure of it. If you must worry about someone, worry about yourself. Do you have any idea how much work we shall have to do in father’s place?”
Aleana forced half a laugh. “I do,” she nodded. “And I believe we have to start...”
“In about an hour,” Kaja gave her a wry smile. “Baptism by fire, I would call it.”
“You have stood in front of the senate before,” Aleana stated, pushing back from him. “You know the nobles respect you. Why would you worry about that?”
“Some respect me,” Kaja nodded. “Some... I am less certain about. However, we shall find out soon enough, I see no point in pondering upon it. Will you walk with me around the grounds for a while? If we must spend the afternoon in the senate chambers, I should enjoy the fresh air first.”
Aleana smiled and nodded.
“It really doesn’t suit me you know.” Regarding himself in the full length mirror, Kaja frowned.
“Nonetheless, your highness,” the lupari at his elbow informed him solemnly. “You are now the senior member of the royal family to be attending the senate. They will be expecting you to be attired appropriately.” Reaching out, he adjusted the fit of the robe around Kaja’s shoulders. “Even if it does look like a dress from behind,” he conceded with a smile.
Aleana giggled. “It is a good thing father left you with us, Calinan,” she told him. “You know Kaja never pays attention to protocol, and I cannot reach high enough to dress him.”
The leonin’s back straightened as he pulled an expression of mock offence.
“I knew I would have to wear this,” he stated coolly.
“So putting it on backwards was a statement of your individuality?” Aleana forced a straight face as Kaja flushed. “I would suggest that you be thankful for the good captain’s presence.”
“The method of wearing the robes is of course open to personal taste. The senate merely expects them to be worn...” Calinan said, straight faced, and Aleana laughed.
“Now don’t tease him,” she chided gently. “You just get him straightened out. He has enough to think about.”
“Of course, your highness,” he nodded. “I believe that will be satisfactory,” he told Kaja.
“Good,” the leonin grumbled.
“All that remains is the hat...”
Kaja glared at him.
“Or perhaps not,” Calinan finished, putting the felt tricorn back down again. “That might be considered beyond the bounds of duty, after all.”
Kaja nodded and eyed a giggling Aleana.
“Lords,” Kaja said loudly, raising his arms. “Ladies,” he added, with a slight bow to a small collection of middle aged women on the front row of the seats. “Thank you for attending at such short notice,” the leonin continued as the general hubbub slowly died down. Around him, the steeply banked seats rose in a three quarter circle, with the break at his back such that the numerous nobles filled his entire peripheral vision and then some.
“And I apologise for the inconvenience this must have caused some of you. Now then,” Kaja lowered his hands, resting them atop the intricately carved lectern in front of him as a hush finally fell over the chamber. “Where to start...”
“Perhaps, brother, I might say a few words of introduction?” Tiernach said softly as he moved to stand behind his sibling.
“Of course,” Kaja raised his eyebrows, but stepped aside nonetheless, allowing his twin to take centre stage.
“Greetings my lords, and ladies,” Tiernach said, his voice still seeming to carry to the farthest ears despite his soft tone. “It is no secret that the king has now left the city, and is on his way to join our brave soldiers in the Freelands, but I mention it for the benefit of those who may not have heard so. We shall of course, miss him dearly in his absence, and we hope that he will return swiftly, and in victory. But most of all, we hope that he will return alive,” he went on, a slight shakiness to his voice. He paused for a moment, seeming to pull himself together before straightening, his eyes moving from face to face across the rows of nobles.
“As difficult as we may find it in his absence, I have no doubt that his difficulties will outweigh ours. However, this does not stop the king from performing his duty to the people of Lordenor, even at the risk of his own life, and thus we shall show no less courage and resilience until he returns to his place in our city, our senate, and our hearts.”
Kaja smiled behind Tiernach’s back, nodding to himself.
“In these times, and especially now,” Tiernach continued. “We must be extra vigilant. I need not remind you, lords and ladies, that we are at war. At war with the Freelands, who continue to terrorise our border towns, who strike at our people at every opportunity, who show no mercy and no discrimination in their targets.”
A murmur ran around the chamber, and Kaja frowned, not quite sure that this was how he had intended the afternoon to go. And surely terrorise was not the right word – so far the Freelands had done less damage to Lordenor, than the Lordenor army had done to the Freelands.
“We can be sure, lords and ladies, that it is only a matter of time before the Freelands realise that the king is no longer in a position to see to the safety of this fine city and the lands about. And we can be sure, that this will not be ignored. It will be seen, by our enemy, as a weakness to exploit. An opportunity to strike a great blow against Lordenor. Against our cities. Against our land. Against our people, down to the last child that is within their reach.”
The soft murmuring began to take on a harder edge, one or two of the nobles nodding in agreement, others looking worried.
“But!” Tiernach raised his voice, and the noise quieted. “We shall not allow this to happen. We will not allow our lands to become weaker in the king’s absence. We shall defend these shores with every last ounce of our strength, and we shall not fall,” the leonin’s voice echoed around the stone chamber as he raised his arm to point at his audience, sweeping his gaze along each row of seats. “This I pledge to you, lords and ladies: not one soldier of the enemy will set foot upon our land unpunished. Not one ship shall be allowed to bring the armies of our adversary to us and leave intact. For each and every harm the enemy may try to bring to us, we will stand firm and visit it back upon them tenfold!”
The noise level in the chamber rose considerably, several shouts of support sounded as Tiernach raised his hands, smiling slightly as he signalled his audience to settle.
“We shall do this, not because we wish to,” Tiernach shook his head. “Not because we are a harsh, and merciless people. Bloodshed, violence... they are not our way. We shall do this because we are a caring people, and a strong people, and because we protect our own! Not one child in this city, or any other in Lordenor need lose an hour of sleep for fear of our enemy because we shall protect them. We will stand strong, and united against our enemy, and we will be victorious!”
Scattered clapping began at the back of the room, swelling rapidly into all out applause, several of the senators rising to their feet, bowing their heads in respect to the prince even as those next to them frowned slightly, looking uneasy.
Kaja stood silently against the wall behind his brother, mouth open slightly, unable to find any appropriate words, knowing that something had just gone very wrong with the day but having no idea quite what to do about it.
Tiernach beamed at the surrounding noblemen, looking quite overwhelmed by the applause and occasional cheers. Still smiling, he gestured for quiet, and when he next spoke, it was with a hushed tone.
“Thank you, lords and ladies, for your support. I shall do everything within my power to ensure that it is not misplaced. I have here,” he raised a scroll of parchment in his right hand. ”A list of measures I intend to take to ensure the defence of this great nation. Measures which I fully believe are necessary, as does the king, and which we shall implement as soon as possible.”
Kaja frowned. Stepping up behind his brother, he asked softly, “When did you discuss this?”
Tiernach turned his head. “Last night,” he answered quietly. “I found myself unable to sleep, and so, it seems, did father. We fell to talking and this,” he indicated the scroll, “was the result.”
“You might have discussed it with me!” Kaja exclaimed, keeping his voice too low to be overheard above the general noise that filled the room as the nobles turned to each other during the pause.
Tiernach shrugged. “You weren’t awake at the time, it seemed pointless to disturb you. Father had already made up his mind, so there was little to discuss anyway.”
“Even so,” Kaja protested.
“Perhaps you are right,” Tiernach sighed quietly. “I apologise, brother, it was careless of me. This is a stressful time, and I must confess that things are slipping my mind that shouldn’t. Rest assured, I shall not make this mistake again,” he smiled apologetically.
“All right,” Kaja frowned. “I suppose I can understand that... you aren’t the only one to be feeling the strain recently...”
“Exactly,” Tiernach’s smile widened. “Should I continue, or would you prefer to...?”
“No, you go ahead,” the older twin nodded. “You obviously have this prepared.”
“Thank you, brother.” Tiernach turned to face the senate again. “Thank you for bearing with me, my lords and ladies,” he said loudly. “The interruption was entirely my fault and I offer my apologies. Now then, where were we...?” he looked thoughtful as the room quieted around him. “Ah, of course,” he picked up the scroll, unfurling it across the lectern and looking down at it.
“The first of the measures to be undertaken is to increase the number of soldiers we can supply. It is the king’s intent that every noble family be given the power to select individuals for addition to the army, so that we are no longer reliant upon volunteers.”
A murmur went around the room at this.
“An excellent strategy, your highness,” a lupari on the front row of seats at Tiernach’s left spoke up. “Many of us have long asked for this, it is simply a shame that it must come in circumstances such as these.”
“Indeed, Lord Blackwood,” Tiernach nodded. “A great shame.”
“Surely this is a joke!” a greying vulpani in a long red coat protested, standing and leaning forwards over the head of the sciurel on the row in front. “Are we seriously to believe that we are about to make drafting commonplace? The people will never stand for it!”
“Our people will see the necessity of it, and will comply,” Blackwood glared across the chamber at the vulpani. “And if not, then we shall have no choice but to insist upon the matter for their own good.”
“You aren’t seriously considering the use of force against our own people if they choose not to fight?” the vulpani looked outraged.
“If you were looking after your province appropriately, Oakroot, the people in it would consider it a privilege to join your soldiers. Are you saying that you do not look after your troops properly? Underpaid, perhaps?”
“I never said that!” the vulpani snapped back. “But I don’t see that...”
“My lords!” Kaja stepped forward and raised his hands, his voice commanding. “Calm yourselves please. This matter will not be aided by anger. “Are you quite sure this is necessary?” he asked Tiernach.
The younger twin nodded. “The need is most pressing,” he said quietly, his eyes roving across the benches around him. “You have read the reports from our borders, I am sure. I believe your province is along the border, Lord Undertree, perhaps you would care to confirm this?”
The sciurel on the second row looked rather shocked to be addressed directly, but recovered himself quickly. “Yes,” he nodded. “I’ll confirm it. Over the past two weeks we’ve had half a dozen small villages along the border taken by the Freelands. Those that didn’t die fighting were sent running with no food, water, or shelter. From what I can tell, only half of them made it to Plainsguard, and it’s not likely they would have headed anywhere else... there’s no better fortified or safer city within fifty miles of the border.”
Oakroot studied the sciurel for a moment, frowning.
“Do you understand now, Lord Oakroot?” Tiernach asked him quietly. “We cannot hold our land with our current military strength. We need more men.”
The vulpani shook his head slowly. “I do not believe it is right to force my people to fight.”
“That’s easy to say when your estate is far from the border,” Blackwood growled, his eye flashing, but Tiernach motioned him quiet.
“I am sorry you do not agree, Lord Oakroot,” the leonin said calmly. “But nonetheless, I expect double the militia from your province. You are hereby granted the power to provide this by whatever means necessary. Whether you choose to gather the men by draft or offering higher wages I do not care, but you will supply those troops within the month. Do you understand?”
Kaja watched the vulpani nod reluctantly. He wanted to tell him that he understood, that he agreed that drafting soldiers was wrong, but... was it? There were so many people at risk, and Tiernach was right that they needed more people on the front lines...
“Now,” Tiernach spoke calmly, resting his hands on the lectern again. “The second measure to be taken. We require each of you to donate a greater proportion of the production from your estates to the war fund.”
“What?” this time it was the sciurel in front of Lord Oakroot who protested. “We will have enough difficulty feeding a greater number of military as it stands, let alone if we give away what the rest of the province is farming!”
“I did not say all,” Tiernach frowned. “I said a proportion. And do not worry about feeding the troops, that will be arranged using the donations. We simply need it to come through official channels so that we can ensure a proper distribution of resources. Fair?”
“I... suppose so...” the challenger faltered.
“In this you must trust me, lords and ladies of the senate,” Tiernach appealed to his audience as a whole. “We can increase resource production from our lands sufficiently to provide enough military to ensure our safety, but it does require change, and it does require trust, and it does require loyalty. I do not believe any of you have ever had a word of complaint against my father’s rule. I ask you to trust my father’s judgement now as you have in the past. Stand with us, and we shall overcome this danger.”
“We are with you, as ever, your Highness,” Lord Undertree spoke loudly, and several calls of agreement rang out through the room.
“Your highness,” Lord Oakroot stood again, though his tone was polite and measured. “I understand your position, and I understand his majesty’s decision. Might I ask, by how much do we need to increase our donations to the state?”
“Of course,” Tiernach nodded politely. “We will require approximately fifty percent of your production to be set aside.”
“Fifty percent!” it wasn’t quite clear which of the nobles had spoken, because at least a third of the room was now on their feet.
“Tiernach,” Kaja put his hand on his brother’s arm. “That’s over three times what they pay now!”
“I am well aware of this, as was father,” Tiernach responded coolly.
“Are you also aware that some of them cannot provide that much and still retain enough to feed the people in their province?”
“I am aware,” Tiernach said loudly above the clamour. “That it will be difficult. I know, that some of you are not experiencing good harvest this year. I am aware, that you are concerned for your people,” he hammered his fist onto the lectern and the room quieted slightly. “But I am also very much aware of the threat posed by the Freelands!” he paused for a few moments as a hush descended. “Do you really believe I would allow our people to go hungry?” he asked softly. “Is that truly what you think of me?” he continued, casting a sidelong glance at Kaja who suddenly felt deeply uncomfortable.
“I have no intention of asking you to supply more than you can safely do,” Tiernach said calmly, his gaze sweeping across the senate. “I, and my father, would never ask that of you. I had hoped you would have known that by now.”
Kaja shifted slightly, feeling somewhat guilty for having thought otherwise, even if only for a moment.
“There will of course, be a fair assessment of who can contribute what most efficiently. You will not be asked to sacrifice the safety of the people in your province. You will,” he went on, his voice becoming firm. “Be asked to ensure maximum production efficiency. You will be expected to explain to those in your charge the necessity for hard work, and intelligent use of resources. You will be expected to ensure that your mines, and lumber mills, and farms are manned to their maximum capacity, around the clock where practical. You will be expected to keep your people producing resources for the state at maximum speed. You will be expected to do this,” he lowered his voice slightly. “Even if it requires additional policing.”
“Then what you are expecting them to do is form forced labour camps,” Kaja growled, putting his hand down on the scroll in front of Tiernach.
The younger twin looked at Kaja’s hand, then up to his face.
“What I am asking them to do is convey to the people the need to win this war,” he said quietly. “And I am surprised that you question that. Brother.”
“You know that the people will not stand for the workload you are expecting of them! You will be taking from them everything they are working to produce and giving them nothing!”
“We will be taking from them only what is necessary to ensure their survival. Our survival,” he added, looking around the room.
“His Highness is right,” Lord Redclaw rose to his feet and turned to address the room from his position on the front row. “My good lords and ladies, you know as well as I that we are facing dire need for a stronger military. We know that without an army strong enough to protect our lands, we will fall to the Freelands. What Prince Tiernach says is true, and we must help him to defend this kingdom, and to do that we must take whatever measures are necessary to ensure that each and every one of our people works to their full potential. We can only hope that they understand this need, and are willing, at least for a time to put aside their own desires. We must all put aside our own desires. Our ambitions, our hopes, our dreams... they will all come to nothing if we do not stand united against our foe.”
“And what are we to tell our people?” a lutrani near the back called out. “When we demand that they work night and day, and we take away their food and fuel?”
“The truth,” Tiernach said simply. “That if they do not, they will lose everything they have.”
“Some of them will not see that as an immediate enough threat.”
“Yes,” the leonin said slowly. “They will. And everyone in this room who wants to grow old in peace and safety will take what I say next to heart. It has been decided that, in light of the present emergency, the police forces of Lordenor will henceforth be transferred into the military, and that the duties of peacekeeping shall from here on lie with each person in this room. From this point, your authority within your province is absolute, second only to royal-order.”
“You can’t be serious!” Kaja exclaimed as the chamber erupted around the princes. “You’re declaring martial law!”
“Quite right,” Tiernach said smoothly. “It seems like the best thing to do, under the circumstances.”
“How can it possibly be the best thing to do?” Kaja growled. “Our justice system has always proved adequate before.”
“Not any more,” Tiernach replied, his cool demeanour never faltering. “We are at war, brother.” He raised his voice and addressed the room loudly. “The enemy may be nearer than you think. I have no intention of allowing spies and enemy agents to agitate the people further, and to accomplish that it is necessary to improve the efficiency of our police force. The fastest, easiest, and best way to do that is to place them under your control. Your absolute control. We do not,” he continued. “Have time to waste with petty matters. We do not, care in the least about a stolen loaf of bread, or barrel of apples. We can not spare the resources to process these matters, so I leave them in your capable hands. It is down to you, lords and ladies to maintain order in your provinces. Down to you to ensure that production quotas are met. Down to you to...”
“Threaten our people until they work themselves to exhaustion?” Lord Oakroot interrupted loudly, momentarily forgetting who he was addressing.
Tiernach regarded him coolly. “I hope that will not be necessary,” he said slowly. “But if it is, then so be it. Sometimes it is necessary to pressure a minority to ensure the well being of the majority, and this may prove to be one of those times.”
“Are you afraid you cannot maintain the law, Oakroot?” Blackwood barked harshly, a lopsided sneer on his face.
“I am not prepared to become the law, that is not my place, nor yours,” the vulpani glared back.
“The king’s word is the law,” Lord De Lance spoke suddenly from somewhere near the back, his voice cutting through the mutters around him. “And the word of those he chooses as his representatives in his absence. That is how it has always been. What are we,” he stood and swept his arm around the room full of nobles. “If not extensions of his will? We are here to serve him.”
“Exactly,” a man on the fourth row spoke up, nodding. “It is by his choice that we oversee our provinces, and if it is his desire that we do so more directly, then so be it.”
“We are here to represent and protect the people of our provinces,” Oakroot said steadfastly. “And that means ensuring a fair and unbiased justice system.”
“Lord Oakroot is right,” Kaja stepped forward, realising that something had to be done. “We of my father’s line have never presumed to rule with an iron fist, never believed ourselves to be above the law. And we do not now,” he finished, glaring at Tiernach, daring him to contradict.
Tiernach dared, meeting his twin’s gaze calmly. “Above the law, no. Keepers of the law, yes. What difference does it make if we take a more direct control, other than to increase the speed and efficiency of the system?”
The leonin appealed to the room. “Lords, ladies, what I ask you to do is help your king by ensuring his rule is maintained swiftly, and without unnecessary delay. You are,” he made a sweeping gesture. “The only ones we can trust with this duty in these times.”
“You can trust us, Highness,” Blackwood spoke up. “Your nobles are by your side, as ever, and we will maintain law and order as you command.”
“Here here,” a man at the back encouraged. “We stand ready, your Highness. Your law is our law, and we shall enforce it as you see fit.”
“It is not our place to act as judge and jury,” another man argued. “The people expect fair and impartial law enforcement.”
“And how are we not such?” a leonin on the right challenged. “The only people who need fear our control will be dissidents, those who would undermine the security of the kingdom. Those who are good, honest, law abiding, and hard working shall be left in peace.”
“Who decides which of our people are honest, and law abiding?” a lupari in the middle of the back row called out. “We don’t have time to spare in a fair assessment of every minor infraction that happens in our province. How can we give justice to those whom we have to pass judgement on without trial or defence?”
“The king’s word, by nature, is the law, and the law is justice,” Lord Blackwood shouted above the increasing noise in the chamber. “Do you contend that?” he demanded, glaring at those who had voiced other opinions. The room quieted.
Tiernach nodded, and continued his address. “Your word in your provinces will be unchallenged,” he spoke loudly. “Your right, will be the right. Your justice, will be the king’s justice. And those who challenge...”
“What?” Kaja demanded, standing on the other side of the lectern, looking Tiernach in the eye, noses inches apart. “What will you do to those who challenge this plan of forced labour and higher taxes? Threaten them? Threaten their homes? Their families?” he lowered his voice. “Their lives?”
Tiernach regarded his brother unblinkingly, a hush descending upon the room as the two princes remained locked in a battle of wills.
“Whatever the ruler of the involved province deems is necessary for the good of the state,” Tiernach said quietly. “That is, after all, the point at hand.”
“Justice cannot be dispensed by force or in haste, it must be upheld properly,” Lord Oakroot interjected, and several heads nodded in agreement.
“And it will be,” Tiernach said firmly, his eyes still locked on his brother’s. “I am not asking you to punish anyone who does nothing wrong. But refusal to act in the best interests of the kingdom is tantamount to treason, and I expect you to act accordingly.”
“Since when was it treason to refuse to work to the point of exhaustion and pay a tax so high as to be unable to feed your family?” Kaja asked harshly.
“Anything that would prevent us from surviving a war with the Freelands is against the interests of the state, and cannot be permitted,” Tiernach shot back. “Order must be maintained until the threat has been dealt with!”
“So what will you do?” Kaja demanded. “Punish anyone who complains? Silence everyone who calls out for moderation while you build armies and weapons?” His expression hardened. “Outlaw freedom until the war is over?”
“If necessary, yes,” Tiernach said flatly.
“Father would never have agreed to those terms and you know it!” the older twin shouted.
“Strange then, that they bear his seal,” Tiernach said acidly.
“Which you are quite capable of faking, I am sure.”
“Would you care to challenge its authenticity?”
“Yes,” Kaja stated flatly, and punched Tiernach in the face, knocking him back from the lectern and onto the floor.
“I don’t know what in the seven hells you think you are doing, but I know that it is not what father said,” Kaja strode up to his brother as he rose to his feet, grabbing him by the collar. “And I have no intention of allowing this to go any further.”
“Stop this, Highnesses!” Calinan stepped in, his role as senate peacekeeper obliging him to act. Thrusting the princes apart, he interposed himself between them, glaring at each alternately. “We do not resort to violence in this chamber,” the lupari reminded them sternly, apparently not intimidated by being ten inches shorter than either prince. “If that is what you wish, take it outside and return when the matter is settled, but in here you do not fight each other!”
The twins both glared at Calinan, but the lupari refused to back down, raising a hand to each of their chests, keeping them apart. Growling, they both stepped back.
“If you can prove the orders are false, brother,” Tiernach spat. “Then you may challenge them. If not, then you, I, and everyone here will obey them.” He grabbed the scroll from the lectern and brandished it towards Kaja. “Unless you intend to defy the king’s orders?” he said coldly.
Kaja swallowed as the room hushed. He glanced around at the nobles as they looked on intently. Taking a deep breath, he chuckled ruefully.
“Well done, brother,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “I don’t know how you faked the seal and signature so well. I don’t suppose it matters, because you’ve done it well enough that I can’t prove that’s what you did.” Tiernach remained expressionless as his twin continued. “And I can’t blame any of you,” Kaja said, looking around the chamber, his gaze sweeping across the nobles. “For following these orders. There’s a good chance that they are the safest thing to do. But they are not the right thing to do. And they are not what I believe my father would do. No threat, no fear, no bribe could cause him to take away the freedoms of our people.”
Kaja’s eyes met Tiernach’s again. “I cannot follow these orders, brother. I will not follow them. If you choose to stand by them, then I must oppose you in that.”
“Opposing the king’s orders, brother,” Tiernach said quietly. “Would be treason.”
Kaja shrugged. “Yes, I… I suppose it would be, wouldn’t it?”
