The Last Whisper of the Gods (20 page)

It was another name out of legend. Havenham’s fall was why the territories to the south were called The Forbidden Lands, but that had happened before the wizards’ extinction. Azarak agreed with Ferguson’s assessment. “My thoughts exactly. I found multiple references to a portal and there’s no reason to suppose it was destroyed.”

“That’s where we must send our wizard candidate when the time is right. You can rely on me to inform you when that is.”

It was Ferguson’s way of indicating he had reached the limits of what he was willing to share on the matter. Azarak was shrewd enough to realize that pressing the issue would serve little purpose beyond exacerbating an already tense relationship. He changed the subject to something where he hoped an accord was feasible.

“As for the other issue… I intend to ram conscription down the throat of my recalcitrant council during this afternoon’s session. Can I assume I’ll have the Temple’s support?”

“Of course, Your Majesty. Bishop Belmar has informed me of the difficulty the council has presented in this matter, but you can be assured that he and I back you.”

“Thank you for your support, Your Eminence. Now, if only I can get a couple of nobles to see sense, it won’t appear as if I’m overruling the council. I’m within my rights to do so, but it looks better if there’s a spirit of cooperation.”

“I quite understand. But time is growing short. It would not do to be caught unawares if a threat from The Forbidden Lands arises. A well-trained army is a start, but only a start. When wizards again walk the world, they won’t do so in silence and humility. It would behoove us to have one standing with us.”

On that note, the meeting between Ferguson and Azarak ended. As the king watched the prelate leave, his poor mood was further soured by a feeling of dissatisfaction. He hadn’t gained anything from the infuriating man. Ferguson’s only concession had been to support him on the issue of conscription - an expected and logical position for the Temple to take. When it came to matters involving magic and wizards, Ferguson continued to hoard his secrets and keep his own counsel.

Later that day, Azarak entered the council chamber to reactions of muted surprise. To emphasize his position, he had elected to dress in the full aquamarine robes of state with the crown upon his brow. This was no token appearance; the king was in earnest.

All eight representatives were present. The quiet and unimposing Bishop Belmar represented the Temple - Ferguson’s eyes, ears, and mouthpiece. Belmar listened carefully and took detailed notes but rarely voiced an opinion. Seated to Belmar’s left was Overcommander Vikon, the head of the City Watch and general militia. Vikon was as vocal as Belmar was quiet, and Azarak would have no more staunch ally in his quest to pursue conscription. Next to Vikon around the circular table was Duchess Falivia, a genteel woman with a spine of steel. She owned the biggest piece of land in the city’s environs and had the largest private militia of any of Vantok’s nobles. To her left was Duke Carannan, a steadfast supporter of the king’s policies. Guildmaster Vrenn, of the merchant’s guild, was seated between Carannan and Guildmaster Gurtin, the head of the farmer’s guild. More than three-quarters of Vantok’s commerce was divided between the two. The final members of the council were Dukes Bantok and Yarbin, influential men engaged in an ongoing feud with Duchess Falivia. Azarak hoped to use that dislike to split the council and give him the majority he was seeking.

Thus far, the king had two confirmed votes for his policy and two against. The guildmasters would never be in favor of conscription, no matter how many conciliations he made. So it came down to the dukes. Carannan was on record as being against conscription but Azarak felt sure he could sway the man’s opinion. Persuading Falivia would allow him to avoid the politically costly necessity of overruling or disbanding the body.

“Gentlemen and My Lady, you may be seated. No doubt, you are surprised to see me today. With other duties behind me, I can now retake the reins of the day-to-day running of the city from my chancellor, who has functioned admirably in that position during my preoccupation. The time for debate about several critical issues is at an end. Action, not talk, is needed. And the first topic at hand is that of conscripting able-bodied men into the Watch to increase its puissance.”

“Here, here!” Overcommander Vikon slammed a mailed fist on the table to emphasize his support for the proposal, causing everything from half-filled goblets to an elaborate candelabra to jump.

“Begging Your Majesty’s pardon,” began Duke Yarbin, adopting a lecturing tone. “Variations of this proposal have come before this council on more than one occasion and, in each of those instances, we have rejected them by a vote of six to two.”

“That’s why I have changed some of the provisions of the proposal, Your Grace. If you’d be so kind as to let me outline the measure…”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you. Under this new proposal, all men from the age of Maturity to 25 - a span of only ten years - would be subject to conscription on a rotating seasonal basis, unless they’re already employed by the Watch or a private militia. They would train and serve for one season, then have a season in which to pursue other activities, then return to the Watch for the next season, and so on. Farmers would be exempt during planting, growing, and harvesting times.

“To help bolster private militias, one-quarter of the seasonal conscription allotment would be made available for recruitment. For the first two seasons of service, the Crown would subsidize their pay. After that, they can either be released into the Watch or kept and salaried as any other member of the private militia. I trust these new provisions have addressed your most serious concerns.”

“They have not!” fumed Guildmaster Vrenn. “You’ll gut the merchant community if you take this action. Commerce doesn’t function on a ‘season-on season-off’ basis!”

“It’s come to my attention, Vrenn, that the majority of those licensed as merchants in Vantok are older than the proposed conscription age.”

“The merchants may be older but those who work for them aren’t. You’ll strip merchants of their retinues and bodyguards.”

“A stronger Watch would limit the spread of lawlessness and make the merchants more secure. They would have less need of personal protection.”

“It seems to me, Your Majesty, that this is more about readying an army than bolstering the Watch. Moderate measures could be used to put additional guards on the streets. What you’re proposing is far-reaching and I don’t understand the reason for it. The continent is at peace. Our relations with our neighbors near and far are cordial. Bandit raids are less of a threat than in decades. Why an army? Why now? Is there something the council is unaware of?”

Vrenn’s concerns were valid and, had Azarak been in his position, he would have asked similar questions. The king wasn’t being transparent with his advisors about the root of his concerns. But this wasn’t the time to detail them. If he mentioned things like magic, wizards, elves, and the like, he would undermine his credibility. “I don’t advocate raising an army. Doing so would be prohibitively expensive. However, we must do more than patch the Watch’s roster with untrained recruits. And preparation is never a bad thing. For too long, Vantok has relied on peace as its sole defense. If the rumors are true - whisperings even the Temple no longer openly denies - we may be entering an era of great uncertainty. Better to inconvenience some in the short term than face disaster by being unready.”

Stony expressions greeted the pronouncement. Azarak suspected those opposed to his plan wouldn’t be swayed by anything short of an enemy force massing near the city’s borders. He noticed Vrenn’s compatriot fidgeting in his chair. “Guildmaster Gurtin, you have something to add?”

“I do, Your Majesty. While it’s true that, under the current seasonal conditions, planting isn’t possible during Summer, there remains livestock to be cared for and routine maintenance to be done. Being a farmer is a year-long duty.”

“Farmers will have to sacrifice like everyone else. There are wives, children, and hirelings to handle the chores during Summer.”

Duke Carannan spoke for the first time. “Your Majesty, the revisions to the plan have satisfied my concerns and those of many of my neighbors about the disadvantages to the private militias. I understand the need for conscription. My daughter was set upon by thugs and my lands raided. I’m willing to support this proposal.”

Three in the fold, one to go.

“I’m surprised at you, Carannan,” said Yarbin. “You’d favor a plan that would arm every vagabond in Vantok?  If roving gangs of hooligans are causing chaos now, think what it will be like when they have swords, axes, and daggers.”

“Training for the Watch involves more than acquiring weapons, Your Grace,” said Vikon. “Men are taught discipline. Swords, daggers, and axes must be earned. They aren’t given unless the guard has shown the ability to handle them skillfully and effectively.”

Duke Bantok added, “I must stand with the guildmasters on this. The lifeblood of any city is trade. If conscription puts Vantok at a disadvantage, I don’t see this as a good thing. Besides, I’m not aware of any other cities having such a plan. If they don’t need it, why do we?”

“Because those cities aren’t trapped in a bubble of persistent heat that shortens tempers and increases the likelihood of violent flare-ups. Because those cities already have larger watches to combat lawlessness. And because those cities choose to be unprepared for any ill wind that blows. We can’t turn a blind eye to the changes around us or believe things are done changing. Adapt or perish.”

Vikon added. “Guildmasters, you argue that trade will be hurt by conscription. How much more if the Watch isn’t increased and criminals are allowed free reign of the streets?  There have already been incidents and trade is decreasing. I need more men, and not just the pittance you believe in.”

“Duchess, we haven’t heard from you,” said Azarak. “How do you stand on this matter? With your neighbor, Duke Carannan, or with Dukes Yarbin and Bantok?” 

The king felt sure he had the desired split until Falivia spoke. “Much as it grieves me to throw in my lot with Yarbin and Bantok, I can’t agree with my good friend Carannan in supporting this plan. It’s premature and will upset the balance of life and commerce in this city, possibly leading to anarchy. I could agree to a plan that offered incentives to young men to join the Watch but I won’t condone conscription.”

“You’ve picked up another vote, Your Majesty,” said Yarbin, doing his best to hide a victorious smirk. “But the majority remains against, five-to-three. I suggest we not take up this topic again until such time as…”

The king slammed his fist on the table, stilling Yarbin’s voice.
So much for a split vote
.
Diplomacy be damned; what has to be done will be done
. “This council has risen above itself, setting itself up as a governing body. When joining, each of you took an oath to accept this post as an
advisor
to the king. There’s nothing in the charter about my needing approval. I’ve heard each and every one of your
opinions
and have given them due consideration. My decision is unchanged. The proposal for conscription will go into law. Chancellor Toranim, have the proclamation issued. Overcommander, prepare to enforce it.

“Now, if there’s nothing else on today’s agenda, this session is ended. You’re all free to go. If any of you feels you can’t continue in your position as an
advisor
, I’ll accept your resignation, effective immediately.” Azarak directed pointed looks at the guildmasters and the nobles who had sided with them.

No one accepted the offer, but the mood as the council disbanded was stormy. Duke Carannan lingered, intent on speaking with the king once the others had departed.

“You’ve bruised some fragile egos, Your Majesty,” said Carannan once the room had cleared.

“It’s time the members of this council remember that I’m the king and my function isn’t to dance to their tune. In the years since my wife’s death, I’ve become entirely too biddable.”

“It’s good to see some of the old fire back.”

Azarak smiled. “It’s good to feel it back. Now, Carannan, what can I do for you?”

“It’s about my daughter’s betrothal, Your Majesty.”

“The day after tomorrow, correct?”

“Yes. I’d like to make an unusual request. I know this event is typically a private ceremony, but there are several associates I’d like to be present.”

“Considering the importance of the day for your daughter and your family, it’s your decision. Who are they?”

“One is Warburm, the adventurer who has been the innkeeper of The Wayfarer’s Comfort for these past 14 years.”

“I know Warburm. He has a shady reputation but if you vouch for him…”

“I do. Another is Vagrum, my daughter’s personal guardian. He’s been with her almost since birth and will provide her with moral support.”

“If he can make the day more comfortable for Lady Alicia, he’s most welcome.”

“I believe you’re familiar with Lamanar the farmer?”

“An old companion of Warburm’s,” said the king, straining his memory back to the days before he took the throne. His father had occasionally met with both Warburm and Lamanar - meetings the young Azarak had found unusual at the time.

“Finally, there’s one of my guards, a lad named Sorial. He’s Lamanar’s son but, more importantly, a close companion to my daughter. She and he have formed a special friendship.”