“Never asking if there might be alternatives!” I was furious, practically spitting. “Without considering my thoughts on the matter!”
“Lara—”
“Enough, Simus.” I lifted my chin. “Hear now the will of the warprize.”
He sagged in his chair. “I will hear and obey, warprize.” He looked up, pained and yet with a gleam of mischief in his eyes. “Can we at least have more kavage before you order me to thwart Keir’s plans?”
I smiled, and sat back down, feeling strangely exhilarated, my headache gone. I was going to make this work, find a way to balance the interests of my kingdom and my heart.
Keir had been right. The best part of being a queen and a warprize is getting exactly what you want.
Once again I faced the council over my father’s desk, my hands sweating, my stomach cramping, and the crown of the Kingdom of Xy about to fall off my head at any moment. I put my hands face down on the maps spread out over the desk, and tried to remain calm, for this day would see either the birth or the death of my hopes. “My councilors, I thank you for joining me this morning. I have something that I wish to announce before we begin our deliberations.”
This was no group of sleepy lords, craftmasters, and clergy—half -awake from being roused from their beds. These men and women faced me alert and ready, each with their own agenda to be considered. They’d all come, with the exception of Lord Durst. He still lay abed, recovering from his wound. I’d tried to blunt the edge with an offering of tea and sweet pastries, but mere food would not be enough. Othur had a chair off to the side, not technically part of the council, but as Seneschal he’d been invited to councils by my father. Xymund had removed the privilege, but I had restored it the day before. Warren was sitting next to Simus, whose tunic and trous were the color of gold. He looked relaxed and opulent, with the onyx brooch of the cat gleaming on his collar.
I pulled my eyes from the brooch, and cleared my throat to continue. “I believe that it is in the best interests of this kingdom if I go with the warlord as the warprize.”
I’d stunned them. Taking full advantage, I continued. “Our joy at my return must quickly give way to the hard reality of this kingdom’s situation.” I held up my hands as Othur and the Archbishop both tried to interrupt. “I will state my case, then I will answer your challenges and questions.” I drew in a breath. “ There are no potential alliance marriages that would be acceptable to the council or to me, one of the reasons that Xymund didn’t contract my marriage.” There were none. I had poured over the damn map for hours, checking the status of the neighboring monarchs. The only one that might be a potential ally was five years old and had a regent.
“There are no nobles within the kingdom that would be suitable for me to take as consort.” This was trickier, since there were a few that I could marry. But I was certain that the political infighting would prevent anyone from becoming attractive in the entire council’s eyes.
“If I should pass to the Goddess without a living heir, the throne would descend to my cousins.” I cleared my throat. No need to go any further, since they knew of the cousins. “The combination of a lack of an heir and a lack of a potential spouse is a fatal one.”
They sat there, focused on me. The only encouragement I saw was in Simus’s eyes. I stiffened my resolve, hoped that the crown would stay on, and continued, “Our army has been weakened, and there will be attempts on our borders, especially with an inexperienced woman on the throne.” I glanced at Warren, but his expression told me nothing. “To strengthen the army will take time, men, and an increase of taxes and tithes. That will be especially hard, since there has been little trade with other kingdoms since the war, and no new routes since my father’s time.” Remn, Estoval, and Kalisa had all confirmed that fact for me.
“A union between the Warlord and myself provides answers to these problems. We would have an alliance, bound by marriage.” The Archbishop coughed, but I ignored him. “Bound by marriage. I am certain that our union would be fruitful, and Simus of the Hawk has confirmed that my firstborn could be raised as a Son of Xy, and designated as the heir to the throne.”
“By taking my place as warprize, I would be able to promote trade between our peoples, opening up potential markets for us, and bringing in new trade goods. By taking my place as warprize, I will insure that the Warlord will provide men to aid in our security. When our more aggressive neighbors hear of this alliance, they’ll be slow to challenge a warlord. That would reduce the need for increasing taxes and tithes.” I wasn’t going to let them off the hook completely on that issue. The Kingdom needed money.
“I’ll listen to your arguments and answer your challenges. If any has a better idea to serve the needs of the kingdom, let them speak. I must stress that time is of the essence. If the Warlord returns to his people without the Warprize at his side, our opportunity will be gone. And he departs soon.”
They were on their feet in seconds, talking at the top of their lungs. Othur pressed his lips together in a thin line. Warren looked thoughtful. Archbishop Drizen looked apoplectic.
I let them stew for a while, not so much listening to any one voice, but trying to catch the general tone. I’d diagnosed my patient, now all I had to do was convince the patient that the treatment would work, no matter how bad the taste.
I put my shoulders back, called the room to order and called on Lord Warren to speak first. By all rights, it would have been better to have gone about this slowly, persuasively, and tactfully, approaching the councillors individually. I had time for none of that. If this were to happen, it had to happen quickly.
Step by step I took them through my reasoning. We poured over the maps of the surrounding kingdoms, and scrutinized the potential marriages in agonizing detail. Of the six potential rulers, three were already married, with heirs. One was a woman. One was age five, and the last one had a streak of madness that ran through the male side of the family. To my astonishment, there were advocates for this alliance, until they were silenced by their peers.
A marriage with one of the local nobility caused a great deal of ruckus. There were a few second sons that might have qualified, except that many of the lords hated one another. I sat back in my chair and let them have at it. Simus was having a wonderful time, although his command of Xyian was not strong enough to follow all of the rapid cursing and swearing. I happened to catch Othur staring at me at one point. I tried to catch his eye, but he looked away. Finally, I had to take a stand and stop the discussion. It was getting no where and we were losing time.
The discussion about potential heirs was very short. Everyone knew my cousins and no one wanted to see them on the throne of Xy.
It was during the discussion on taxes and tithes that I got my first indication that I had support. Lord Warren stood and held up a hand. “I believe that Xylara is right. If she claims the title of Warprize, it will bring more good than harm to the Kingdom of Xy.” Warren looked around the room, then focused on Othur. “I’ve dealt with the Warlord first hand, and I know that he is a man on whom we can depend. I say that we should support the Daughter of Xy in her decision.” He took a seat as the members of the council talked among themselves.
Masterweaver Meris popped up. “The merchants support this decision as well.” She popped back down. Thank the Goddess for mercantile instincts. We weren’t going to have to debate the benefits of expanded trade. The way Meris kept eyeing Simus, I’d had no doubt she’d support me.
“Well, I’m against it.” The Archbishop rose ponderously from his chair. “We are talking about binding a Daughter of Xy to little more than a barbarian, and a heathen barbarian at that. Goddess forbid.”