Indomitus Est (The Fovean Chronicles) (68 page)

    
It was a quarter inch thick, three inches wide, smooth on the outside and rough on the inside.

    
It had left deep, red welts on Shela’s back, behind and thighs.

    
We were alone in a room in the city.  Our men were camped outside the gate.  I didn’t intend to sleep here; neither did I need to do this in my tent, where the whole army would know her discipline.

    
Shela had been told to leave, and Shela hadn’t done it.  She’d done it out of a love for me, but she knew full well that she’d disobeyed me, and that there’d be a price.

     If I’d have let this go, then she’d have thought I didn’t care about her enough to discipline her, and she’d have done something worse to get my attention.  She’d been raised in a culture where men weren’t ‘strong’ if they couldn’t keep their women in line.

     So I’d put her up against a wall, ripped her clothes off and lit into her.  Afterwards I’d thrown her down on the room’s one bed, barely large enough for two, and taken her.  There was no love-making, there was neither any hatred or disdain.  I held her now in my arms, my back against the headboard and a pillow underneath my shoulders, her head on my chest and the curve of her belly on my hip.

     Her tears on my chest and her cheeks.  I’d shed mine when she couldn’t see me.

     “Who owns you, slave?” I demanded.

    
“You do, master.”

    
“Who?”

    
“You do, master.”

    
I took a fist full of her long, black hair, feeling my fingernails scratch her scalp, and tilted her head back.  I forced her to look into my eyes.

    
We both needed this.  I took back control; she relinquished hers to me. I am her master and she is a slave.

   
“What were you told?”

    
“Stay in Thera.”

    
I shook her.  She closed her eyes.  She needed to be the property of a strong man.  That requires a certain amount of control, and consequences for bad behavior.

    
“What did you do?”

    
“I followed you.”

    
I took her delicate jaw in my other hand, and squeezed it.

    
“And when you were told to leave?”

    
“I stayed,” she managed, sounding like she had a mouth full of marbles.

    
I released her, and looked into her eyes.

    
My god, Shela,
I thought,
I am so in love with you.

    
“What are you?” I demanded.

    
“Your slave.”

    
“What do you do?”

    
“Obey you.”

    
“You have displeased me, girl.”

    
She looked up at me.  That
hurt
.  I could do anything I wanted to her, but my words scarred her worse than my hand.

    
“You had better try harder, girl.”

    
“Master, I am so sorry.”

    
“I don’t believe you.”

    
I released her head, giving her a little push. Her hands explored me and I pushed them away, denying her.  She started crying again.

    
“Master, I swear to you, I will be better.”

    
I just stared down at her, naked, pregnant, debased, humiliated, and beaten.  The welts on her back shown in the dim light of the little room.

    
“I swear, Master.  I love you.  I won’t shame you again.”

    
I let her chew on that promise.

    She expected to be beaten.  In some ways she liked it – not the pain but the thrill of losing her control to me.  I didn’t want this to be something she did for attention.

     So I had to ruin it for her.

    
“You were disobedient,” I told her.  “I won’t have it.”

    
“You could beat me to death and I would prefer it to seeing you come home tied to Blizzard’s saddle,” she said.

    
“I wouldn’t beat you to death,” I said.  “I would send you back to your tribe.  I love you, Shela, but you need to remember who your husband is.”

    
“And who my Master is,” she said.  I looked down into her eyes.  She already looked up at my face.  She wanted me to kiss her, but this wasn’t a reward, and it couldn’t be a game.

    
“Do you know what I did when I thought you were dead?”

    
“D’gattis tells me that you raised your bloody sword and threw yourself into the fray,” she said, and you could see the savage pride in her.  I hadn’t planned on telling her this, but every separation had its start with a worthwhile lie, and this wouldn’t be ours.

    
“I jumped on Blizzard, and charged the Confluni wizards,” I said.

    
She looked at me.

    
“There were…”

    
“Twelve of them, I think.  I killed them.”

    
She lay quiet.

    
“So I charged their archers.”

    
“I killed their archers,” she said.

    
“You got most of them.  I took on the other hundred.”

    
“One hundred archers?”

    
“About.  Maybe a few less.”

    
“How did you hope to prevail?”

    
I looked into her eyes.  Let her do that thing she does when she reads me, so she would know.

    
“You didn’t think you would,” she said.  “And when you did – for the love of Power, White Wolf – when you did, you threw yourself into their army!”

    
I just looked at her.

    
“For the love of me?  For a woman?”

    
“If you think that is all you are to me, then you are not the girl I think you are.”

    
She looked away.  “White Wolf,” she said.

    
“Guard your life as you would guard mine,” I told her.

    
I hadn’t planned to tell her all of this, but it needed to be said.  Like she said, I could beat her to death and she would let me, if I would be alive after. 

    
Let her know that I wouldn’t, then.

    
She crushed her lips against mine, her tongue on my teeth, her hands in my hair, like she would swallow me, and taking me inside of her, keep me safe, even from myself.

     I’d never loved a woman like I loved her.  I don’t even think I could again.  I’d tried to join her and I’d have left her a widow and my child an orphan. 

     “From now on, you obey me,” I informed her.  “If it comes to a decision of who has to die, you leave that decision to me.”

     “Yes, Master,” she promised me.

     The love-making after that was legendary.  Shela is the one who makes me feel like a hero.

     The next morning, we were leaving for our own ships from our lucrative shipping line, heading straight for Thera.  Karl stood beside me as we formed up for the march to Volkha.  Again the Wolf Soldier/Free Legion contingent would hold the van; Blizzard had finally recovered enough to ride.  Glennen had sent me messages about killing Sammin that I would have to respond to.  Shela had recovered from my belt and we had already picked up recruits from Volkhydro and Conflu among those who wanted to make their future with us.  If we kept winning, we would keep growing that way. 

    
“I cannot be a Wolf Soldier,” Karl told me, forcing himself to look me in the eyes.

    
I nodded.  “I would be happy to have you, but you’re right, Karl,” I told him.  “Your father needs you here.”

    
He spat – fast-becoming a habit with him.  “My
father
admits to needing nothing, but there is an army to run here and I’m going to need to run it.”

    
“Let us pray that we never need to meet each other in battle, then,” I told him seriously.  “I don’t think there is a Wolf Soldier who would raise a sword to the
Hero of Tamara
.”

    
He smiled just a little. 
Yes, this would be a dour man,
I thought.  Sure of himself in an unsure way.

    
“There isn’t a Wolf Soldier alive,” he told me, in turn, “who would question
The Conqueror
.”

    
I nodded.  Sammin had taught them the consequences of that.

    
He took my forearm in his right hand and I took his in mine.  I looked into his face, his scar.  He had been one of my men.  I could miss Karl if I knew him better.

    
But if you are going to make your life by the sword, sell it to the winning side.  You collect more pay that way.  Karl had his own life to lead.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The Scheme of Things

    
Thera had begun to assert itself as a cultural center on Tren Bay.  I sponsored this with my own gold as much as I deemed reasonable, including hiring several painters to make public murals, sculptors to create statues of Glennen and myself in the local square, and architects and stone masons to erect a triumphal arch for me to commemorate the Battle of Tamaran Glen.  Musicians played softly in my court – a fad that caught on quickly – and at dinner, a practice already popular.  Theater hadn’t progressed beyond what I considered the medieval level here, so I had become a huge sponsor of the stage.  A few ideas stolen from Shakespeare and
The Theatre au Thera
built itself a reputation that stretched to Trenbon.  I’d been made aware that several Uman-Chi had balcony seats permanently reserved.

    
With art and theater came tourism, with tourism came foreign coin, with foreign coin came foreign interest, and with foreign interest came prestige and investment.  My presence had been requested at court in Outpost IX, Waypoint, Chatoos and Volkha, and I rarely declined.  I planned to cultivate as many allies as I could, should things ever get hot for me in Eldador.

    
I still maintained a stranglehold on the local dock space, although I had granted permission to expand the city and to grow the wharves.  Free Legion Shipping flourished under Ancenon’s guidance and Outpost IX and Thera became its two major ports.  He purchased goods from here because they cost significantly less and sold them against pricier markets such as Trenbon, Conflu and Volkhydro.  This scored another victory for tax-cuts, which took place shamelessly across Eldador.

    
Eldadorian products had become the least expensive on Fovea and yet our workers lived better than ever before, not because they made more but because they kept more of it.  The Sentalan government seemed especially furious.

    
Free Legion Soldiers were booked through the next War season following the shellacking we had handed the Confluni.  Many of these were contingent on the presence of
Lupus the Conqueror
, although I hadn’t decided whether my Wolf Soldiers and I would attend.  I still recruited for the Free Legion through my agents (while skimming the cream for myself), but I had political friends I wanted to keep, not meet in battle.   

    
One morning I realized that I didn’t really need the gold in Outpost X anymore, and had even offered to pay back some of what I had taken to get Thera on her feet.  No one saw that as a good idea, most likely because none of them wanted to have to pay back any of what they had taken themselves.

    
So it was not a surprise when my Oligarchs informed me that Sanzidaar Darook of Trenbon respectfully requested audience in the Ducal court.

    
“Do we allow it?” I asked my Oligarchs.

    
Glennen retained four Oligarchs, I only needed three.  As a priestess of War, Ann dressed in sacramental chain mail armor with a golden sword over her shoulder.  An Uman, almost ninety, she kept her hair long and shot with gray.  She was my rock, with steely brown eyes that looked through me, not at me.

    
Def Namek was a seasoned warrior who loved to spar, with me or with anyone.  He dressed in soft clothes, had long red hair tied in a ponytail and drooping moustaches. He was one of those Men who seemed to be assembled of sticks and almost danced when he fought.  When we sparred, the powerful strokes that Nantar had taught me always found him dancing a half of an inch away from my sword’s edge and mocking me.

    
Thebinaar was another Uman, a statesman who had served under Klem as an administrator.  His scalp showed through the top of his long white hair, which flowed to his shoulders, silky and fine.  He wore brown robes, always immaculate, and sported a huge paunch belly that I joked always arrived a minute before him.  No jolly fat man, I employed him as my token liberal, quick to forgive and to look past the incident for the cause.

    
He quickly answered, “I don’t see how we cannot.”

    
“By saying no, I would think,” Ann said.  We sat around a circular table in my private study at the estate.  I didn’t hold court here but considered it a good place to meet for important discussions.  As my wife’s domain, no one could listen in here by magical means.

    
“We could just tell him we’re not important enough to meet with him, and send him on to Eldador the Port,” Def said.  “No Uman-Chi could say that he was less important than we thought.”

    
We all laughed, even Ann, whose lips were usually welded in a thin, straight line.  “If we want to divert him then so be it, so long as we don’t address him here.”

    
“And why not?” Thebinaar asked.  He leaned back, his meaty hands folded on his belly.  “He may offer us more business with Trenbon, or estates on the Silent Isle, or any number of useful things.”

    
“If he did we might have to take them, to save face,” Def said, leaning forward just as Thebinaar leaned back.  “Our Duke is also a member of the Free Legion.  Thera’s Duke has no need to mix his loyalties and perhaps to lose the title of heir to the crown.”

    
“The Duke isn’t the heir, neither does he want to be,” Anne said.  “But he doesn’t want to be a petty baron in Trenbon, either, occupied in a foreign court and having to pay tribute to Trenbon’s king as well as our own.”

    
“That would be inconvenient,” I said.  I liked to watch them argue.  They were all much smarter than me, all of them ambitious for Thera, usually more so than for I.  These people had been Glennen’s subjects since Eldador’s birth.

    
“Then you appoint a regent and you never waste a moment there, your Grace,” Thebinaar said, the smile on his face reminding me of Ancenon’s.  “But you tax your subjects and you bring to Trenbon some measure of what we have achieved here.”

    
“And detract from our success,” Ann warned.

    
“Or enhance it with a foreign trade partner,” Def said, leaning back now and pulling thoughtfully on his moustache.  “That might play to our good advantage.”

    
“Or embroil us in foreign affairs of which we have no understanding,” Ann said.  Ann had made up her mind.  If Ann made up her mind that she wasn’t on fire then her burning hair would not distract her.

    
“I simply see no concerns in this meeting,” Thebinaar said.  “The worst that happens is we reject more wealth.”

    
“That is very simplistic,” Ann said. 

    
“I do tend to agree,” I said.  They all looked at me now.  They were intelligent and opinionated but their fealty belonged to me.  I didn’t doubt that, once the decision was made, they would abide by it.

    
That was the difference between feudalism and democracy: I had subjects, not constituents and I owned them outright.  The idea that I could tell someone to think some way and they were honor-bound to at least try to seemed foreign and, in many ways, repulsive to me. 

    
“I think we need to talk to this diplomat,” I said.

    
“But your Grace – “ Ann began.  I held up my hand to silence her.

    
“Let him petition us in writing, saying what he wants,” I said.  “If we like it, we talk to him.  If not, then we send him back some ambiguous response and let him decide what it means.

    
Ann smiled another rare smile.  “Oh, he will hate that,” she said.

    
“I will draft the response myself,” Def said.

    
Thebinaar just clicked his tongue.

     My daughter came into this world screaming on the twenty-fifth day of Life in the eighty-first year of the Fovean High Council.  Children born in Life are supposed to be robust and healthy.  Lee, named after my mother of all people, made no exception.  Her Andoran name would be “Grip Like Steel,” which suited her and which would change from time to time throughout her life.

    
Glennen and Alekanna visited the estate in Thera regularly, as did Nantar and his wife.  I had built the Wolf Soldiers up to five thousand with a thousand heavy lancers, and I could call on a thousand archers from the Aschire forest with a couple weeks’ notice.  Those people had realized a level of autonomy through both my patronage in the Eldadorian court and the ready trade they provided in crafts and long bows.  Thera was considered the military center in Eldador and we trained in the open with both the Free Legion and the Eldadorian armies - occasionally with foreign generals who paid to learn from
The Conqueror
.  All of the Eldadorian Dukes recognized me as the heir apparent to the throne even though nothing formal had been declared.  Unlike the feudal systems of Earth, it seemed that Eldadorian nobility wanted anything
but
the throne.  Quite frankly I could see why.

    
On the third day of my daughter’s life, Alekki held Lee in the crook of her arm as Shela watched from her recovery bed.  Her maids had wrapped her hips tight with bed sheets, to the point of strangulation, to guarantee her some portion of her figure.  Once again, as ever, I felt glad to be a man.  Glennen and I drank brandy with Nantar after a light dinner.  I hadn’t seen Nantar’s wife.

    
“Well, I see I will be having another one,” Glennen complained amicably.  Alekki looked sideways at him and smiled to herself.  “You make claim to these great things, but you do me no good, Duke Mordetur.”

    
“He has offers from other nations to do
them
no good,” Nantar challenged him.  His beard bristled in a smile.  “I even hear that the Trenboni want to offer him a Duchy outside of Outpost VII.”

    
The letter idea had worked.  I had not yet responded.

    
“Pah!” Glennen spat.  “Outpost VII indeed – they probably just want to give him enough land to blame their Scitai problems on him.”  He clapped me on the shoulder with a meaty hand.

    
“I think the Duke is staying right where he is, Nantar,” Glennen added, just the slightest bit of warning in his voice. 

    
I just smiled at Shela, who beamed back at me.  Motherhood seemed to suit her.  I had known this woman for thirteen months – I might have celebrated her birthday in that time if she had known it.  She guessed her age at seventeen – a mother of one when most of her childhood friends were weaning off their second.  Women twice her age where I came from had not done so much living.

    
“There is word of the Confluni massing on the Volkhydran boarder,” Glennen mentioned nonchalantly.  He stretched and yawned, following me through the corner of his left eye.  “I don’t suppose you will be going back there next year?”

    
His ultimate worry,
I thought to myself.  Many speculated that Eldador grew too powerful too fast.  Her own population and armies swelled, her own economy booming under the rise of capitalism, the only such economy on Fovea.  Glennen and I had a project going on in my shipyards to build Eldadorian Tech-Ships that would rival those of Trenbon, then to wrest sea power away from that nation.  A punitive strike against Eldador now seemed imperative to keep all of the power on Tren Bay from shifting radically.

    
“Your heavy lancers would be an asset,” Nantar added, also eyeing me.  Nantar had been spending more and more time here.  His wife liked Shela and Alekanna’s company and he studied the Wolf Soldiers intently as he built his own version: the
Sarandi
.  Also derived from desperate men (and women), they were his version of my version of the French Foreign Legion mixed with the Navy Seals.