“But as Mother Behrnees just said, this is not Harzburk, and the ways of the Iron Palace are not those of Morguhn Hall. You are certainly aware that King Gilbuht is but the second of his House to rule Harzburk. The grandsire of Gilbuht’s grandsire was born heir to only the County of Getzburk, but he died an archduke, having conquered the County of Yorkburk, the Duchy of Tchaimbuhzburk, and the Mark of Tuhseezburk. Archduke Mahrtuhn, Gilbuht’s father, secretly financed by the Undying High Lord Milo, hired enough swords to conquer the Kingdom of Harzburk, slay most of the House of Blawmuh, and settle himself upon the Iron Throne.
“Consequently, Gilbuht’s capital is an armed camp and he rules harshly, hating his subjects as fully as they hate him. Had old Mahrtuhn been so stupid as to leave any of the Blawmuhs alive, the rebellions would be more frequent and more stubborn than they presently are.
“So Gilbuht considers his most unwilling subjects cattle and constantly milks them of the monies necessary to pay the troops he must maintain if he is to retain his lands and life.”
She paused to sip from her winecup. Then with a rippling of ashblond tresses, she slowly shook her head. “No, despite his wealth and his power, we would be fools to envy Cousin Gilbuht. Nor would we two trade places with him.”
Mother Behrnees nodded her agreement. The sisters agreed on most things; so many things, in fact, that they might almost have been one mind in two beautiful bodies.
“That is why we are now sorry that we badgered your father into sending you, his heir, to Harzburk. For the Kindred of Morguhn will never tolerate the despotism you have seen practiced, nor do most of your people deserve such ill treatment. Yours are not a recently conquered people, son. Through the Ehleenoee line-and do not ever forget, your father and your uncle, the Tahneest are a full three-quarters Ehleen-your forefathers have ruled these lands from time immemorial, and even the Kindred of Morguhn have occupied their station for over a hundred years.
“Precious few of the Ehleen nobility are of pure blood, and all of the other nobles are related to you; so, too, are many of the common people, to a greater or lesser degree. To your Kindred, noble or common, you will be their hereditary chief, not their overlord.
“The true ruler of the duchy, the actual overlord, is the Duchy Council, and although the Chief is its titular head, his voice is but one of fifteen. You …” she began, then queried, “The Council, Bill, the Thirds and the reason for then: being, what do you recall of them?”
Closing his dark blue eyes, the young man thought deeply for a moment, then took a deep breath. ‘The Thirds are equals in Council. The first Third is the Thoheeks Chief, the Tahneest, the Clan Bard, and the two wisest of the Kindred; the second Third is five noble Ehleenoee; the last Third is five free citizens, Kindred or Ehleen.”
“When was the Council established, Bill?” Mother Mahrnee prodded. “And why? And by whose decree?”
Eyes still closed in concentration, he answered, “When first Karaleenos was conquered by the Confederation, the Undying High Lord did order that the Kindred on whom lands and cities were conferred were not to rule alone, but rather in partnership with the Karaleenee nobles and their people. In this way were rebellions prevented.”
Both women smiled and Mother Behrnees declared, “Very good, Bili, almost word-for-word. You’ve a good memory, and that is well. The Council’s regular Moon-meeting is next week and you must, in the Morguhn’s absence, sit for him. Remember all that we shall now tell you, for much hinges upon your conduct at that time, not the least of which is the full acceptance of you by the Thirds.
“Now your full uncle, whose name you bear, has always favored you. So much does the Tahneest love you, that I think should you pull out his beard, rape his wife, and raze his hall, you still could depend upon his immediate acceptance of you as the next chief.”
Mother Behrnees ticked off another finger. “Cousin Djeen Morguhn is, as you know, a retired Strahteegos, as well as your father’s old commander and comrade when they served as Freefighters in the Middle Kingdoms. You won his acceptance last year, when news reached us of your having slain the Earl of Behreesburk in single combat and thus winning your Bear.” Another finger. “Spiros Morguhn has long despised your father for his sedentary, scholarly ways. Talk warfare and weapons and hunting with him and he soon will be your sworn liegeman.”
Her last finger curled downward. “The same holds true for Clan Bard Hail Morguhn. So simply be what you are, Bill, and the first Third is yours.”
She opened her small fist and again ticked off the first finger. “Of the Ehleenoee nobles, Komees Hari and his brother, Drehkos, are your father’s third cousins; further, the Komees’s first wife, now deceased, was your father’s sister. We think that both men can be counted upon to approve your succession, but to be sure, hmmm…” She steepled her fingers and regarded Bili closely. “The way your stallion follows you around, you’ve obviously not lost your touch with horses, so that could be the way. What think you, sister?”
“Yes,” agreed Mother Mahrnee, nodding. “The horses of Komees Hari are aptly reputed to be among the best in all the Confederation and he is justly proud of them. Immediately we finish here, ride you over to his hall and introduce yourself he has not seen you in more than ten years and I doubt he would see the boy you were in the man you are.
“Talk horses and keep your hands off his daughters. Ask to see his herd and to meet his kingstallion. Brag of your warhorse some, then mention your desire to purchase a trained hunter. You’ll have a bag of gold; of course, hell refuse to accept it, but the form must be observed.
“After that, my son, it is up to you and your training and your judgment. If you blunder and choose a bad horse …” Ske made a wry face and shrugged meaningfully. “If Hari approves you, Drehkos will usually follow his lead; it is as simple as that.” “The Vahrohnos Myros of Kehnooryos Deskati will hate you, no matter what you do or say! He will hate you for three reasons, Bili: primarily, because you bear the Morguhn surname; secondly, because you do not look your Ehleen blood; thirdly, because, although you are a handsome man and will no doubt set his parts to itching, you outrank him and so he can neither buy you nor force you into buggery. Be formally polite to the swine, nothing more. And should he dare to offer you open offense, run your steel through his body a few times, and fear no bloodprice. There would be none to demand one anyway, for he hates all things female and so has never wed, and he has outlived all his relatives.
“Myros and Vahrohneeskos Stehfahnos, who also sits on the second Third-”
“-are both insane!” interrupted Mother Behrnees. “As is that sly, sleek priest and all the poor, common fools they’ve beguiled into believing their fantasies! If you can believe it, Bili, those two and that Blackrobed ass have all but stirred up a rebellion in this duchy!
“Between the agents of Myros and Stehfahnos and the priests of that cursed Kooreeos, the heads of many-too many-of the Dirtmen and city commoners have been filled with lovely dreams. Those dreams go something like this: the Kindred’s farms and Halls and pasturelands, their womenfolk and horses and cattle and their riches are to be evenly divided between all the poor, deserving Dirtmen and urban ne’er-do-wells, which will bring about no work, no want, and idle luxury for all.”
Bili could take no more in silence. “Dung and more dung! Without work, there can be nought save want. Idle luxury be damned, most nobles labor far harder than any Dirtman or mechanic or tradesman. Why, were it not for…”