Keeper (First Ordinance #2)(70)
"I don't give a flying fornication where she's from," Kaldill grumbled. "She belongs to us, now."
"She's a citizen of Kondar," Berel nodded. "I hoped it would be enough."
"One cannot help but wonder about absent parents, when there is no information to be had," Daragar offered. "I wondered about my mother until I went to find her."
"I'll explain that later," Kaldill whispered to Berel with a half-smile.
*
Harifa Edus
Fyris II
"You can't conduct court hearings and decide on your council if you're drunk," Rodrik snapped. "You need a council, you know—your father's council is either dead or left behind in Fyris to die. The Nobles here at the castle are becoming high-handed again, and that should not be. We need laws and a Prince to enforce them. A council will help."
"I don't need a council." Amlis struggled not to slur his words. He'd had wine with breakfast and had been drinking most of the morning afterward. "This place runs itself."
"It doesn't—and Beatris says that the mayors of all the small towns they left behind are now arguing over who is in charge—none want to give up their authority and step down, although they live in the same city, now. The Prince's intervention is needed." Rodrik shoved Amlis' feet off the table where he'd rested them, rocking Amlis forward in his chair.
"I'll have you sent to the dungeon," Amlis snapped.
"Really? Have you checked, my Prince? You don't have a dungeon, here. One wasn't built. I suggest you consider that when you sober up—you may need a lockup when the mayors flex their authority and order their sheriffs to arrest the mayor who now lives next door."
"But," Amlis sputtered.
"Look," Rodrik hissed, pulling Amlis up by the collar and staring into his bloodshot eyes, "My father died just the same as your mother. By their own choice. I suggest you mourn them in private and do what a Prince should in public. Your people are waiting. They grow restless, waiting for their Prince and his troops to intervene in the power struggle that now threatens our city."
"Tea, Rodrik," Beatris set a tray on the table, which now bore scratches from Amlis' boots. "We need Amlis sober, and we need it fast. A mayor was just murdered not far from here."
*
Amlis blinked in the weak sunlight filtering through cloud cover overhead. He knew, somewhere in the wine-fogged recesses of his mind, that if he were in full sunlight, the brightness would make his headache a hundred times worse.
Rodrik had saddled Runner for him—he'd fumbled the straps and buckles until Rod pushed him aside and did it instead. I need Deeds, Wolter and the others, he thought, before recalling that they'd stayed behind with Quin.
Quin.
He desperately needed her. If nothing else, she could heal his infernal headache. She could tell him how to handle this mess with the mayors, too, who'd suddenly thought it was imperative to stretch their authority in his city.
His city.
"How many troops behind us?" Amlis asked.
"We have twenty," Rodrik replied. "That's the first useful thing you've said in three days," he added.
"Will we face a mob when we arrive?"
"I know not, my Prince."
"Send one back to the castle for additional troops," Amlis said. "Now."
*
Le-Ath Veronis
Queen Lissa's Private Journal
"There's an uprising already?"
Renée stood before my desk with the comp-vid saying just that. Surely, Amlis and Rodrik were smart enough to know we'd monitor them. The werewolves of Harifa Edus were a continent away, but the peace of their world shouldn't be shattered by the petty squabbles of its newest inhabitants.
"We can go," Drake and Drew appeared in my study, making Renée jump. "Sali says he'll help. Dad and Uncle Crane need some exercise."
"So the Falchani want blade practice?" I lifted an eyebrow at my Falchani twins.
"We won't break heads," Drake promised.
"Fine, just make sure the Prince knows you're on his side, all right?"
"Not a problem," Drew shrugged.
"Take Tory with you," I added.
"Only if he promises not to go Thifilathi."
"Work that out with him. He has experience with these people, you don't."
*
Harifa Edus
New Fyris
The noise of the crowd reached Amlis' ears before the edges of it came into view. The extra twenty troops who'd arrived would certainly not be enough to quell this uprising.
He should have never taken his hands off the pulse of the people—he understood that, now. Even moving to a new home where there was plenty of room and enough to eat failed to settle everything.
"Amlis, perhaps we should return to the palace and gather the rest of your troops," Rodrik said, pulling Midnight to a stop.
"There's no need."
Tory appeared, with many behind him. Amlis drew in a breath—those with Tory were strange indeed—with long, black hair braided down their backs and inked tattoos showing on arms and chests.
The rest was covered in black leather pants and boots. Each man had two blades strapped to his back, just as Tory did.