The Cerberus Rebellion (A Griffins & Gunpowder Novel) (9 page)

“
Thank you,” Hadrian said courteously to the steward. “We are here to serve His Grace.”

“
This way.” The steward waved them into the first coach and then saw to the baggage. The Clyve and McKinley guards found themselves horses and in short order the whole party was on its way to Croutcher Castle.

The city of Arndell was massive compared to Orintown or Odwolfe. The smooth mortared streets twisted and turned as they rose away from the train station and the nearby harbor.

“
The snow has driven away many of the merchants,” Wendell pointed out. “They’ll be back in the spring.”

“
Has the messenger train from the King arrived yet?” Raedan asked. He turned from the coach’s window and the steward looked at his hands.

“
Yes, milord,” the steward confirmed. “But His Grace made it clear that no one was to discuss the matter.”

“
Of course.” Raedan nodded and rubbed the onyx at his throat.

“
I’m sure that he wants to give us his opinions of the matter directly,” Hadrian noted.

He met his brother’s eyes with his own and shook his head ever so slightly. He didn’t know the full extent of his brother’s abilities, only that it had something to do with the black stone in his amulet. They didn’t need to reveal anything to Cedric or Auberon. Raedan lowered his hand and looked out of the coach’s window.

“
Yes, milord.,” the steward said, oblivious to the wordless exchange between brothers.

“
Do you know what His Grace will be serving us?” Cedric asked. Hadrian had to cover his mouth with his hand to hide the small smile that came of its own accord.

“
I believe there were some deer brought in for the meal.” The steward struggled to hold a neutral expression. “There will be pork and beef as well, if I understand correctly.”

“
Good. The food on that train was terrible.”

The rest of the ride was quiet. Auberon was leaned back against the wall of the coach, eyes closed; Raedan watched through the window as they trudged along; Cedric chewed on some hard salted beef, the steward watched his hands, and Hadrian read a book.

Croutcher Castle was surrounded by walls a hundred feet high and fifty feet thick. The black stone rose sheer from the hillside and ended in ramparts high above. A thick ebony drawbridge and single massive gatehouse provided entry to the castle. Inside the wall, the keep rose nearly a hundred and twenty feet, cut from the same black stone.

Four square towers rose massive at each of the keep’s four corners, marked every fifteen feet by musket slits. At the top of the towers, massive gray banners snapped in the cold, hard wind. A massive hammer was sewn in gold across the banner.

Lord Dalton Croutcher, Duke of Arndell, waited as the column came to a halt before him. He stood at the base of the stone steps at the front of the keep, several of his advisors and a handful of lesser lords spread around him. Guards stood at the flanks of the party and more paced the walls.

The duke stood just five and a half feet tall, much shorter than the average citizen of Ansgar. He wore a red cloak lined with brown and white fur over a black tailcoat and trousers, with his longsword hung on his left hip in its ornate scabbard..

“
Ah, Hadrian!” Dalton exclaimed as Hadrian climbed out of the cramped coach. He was a year younger than Hadrian and the two had grown up as close friends, despite the distance between their respective castles. He strode down the last of the stairs and grasped Hadrian’s forearm in a friendly handshake. “I trust your train ride south was uneventful?”

“
No one is likely to harass a train flying three different noble banners with armed guards visible on every car,” Cedric said as he stumbled from the coach, red faced and breathing heavily. “Your Grace.”

“
Lord McKinley.” Dalton inclined his head in greeting. Cedric was the heir to one of the two Earldoms that were pledged to the Arndell Duchy, but he was only an heir.

“
These coaches are too small,” Raedan announced he stepped from the coach and stretched his arms wide. “They aren’t very friendly to people of above average height.”

“
Well, it’s not the crafter's fault that the Clyves are grown large,” Dalton said with a grin. He had always been dwarfed by his two most massive sworn nobles, but he had never let it affect his attitude.

“
And large men need to eat,” Cedric said as he wiped sweat from his brow.

“
Indeed.” Dalton smiled, ran a hand through his black beard, and turned. “First, allow me to introduce my closest advisors and lesser lords.”

The duke made the rounds, introducing each of the lesser lords and advisors to his sworn nobles. There were five of the Duke’s lesser lords and three of his advisors.

“
Well, now that introductions have been made—” Cedric licked his lips “—perhaps we could move the meeting inside?”

“
Of course, my lord.” Dalton nodded and turned to the stairs.

The keep’s doorway was thick, nearly twenty feet from outer door to inner door, unusually thick for even the most robust keep. From the entryway it was a short walk to the keep’s main hall, a long room filled with large tables and benches. Tapestries hung on the walls and light shone in through colored glass to join the warm light of lanterns in sconces on the walls.

The lords and advisors found their seats, Dalton at the head of the table with Hadrian to his right and Cedric to his left. Raedan sat to Hadrian’s right and the others sat according to their station.

Stewards flowed from doors along the sides of the hall. They carried flagons of wine and beer and water, and cups enough for the whole party. Cedric was quick to pour himself a cup of wine and drained it in one drink. The others at the table were more reserved as they poured themselves refreshments.

Another wave of stewards entered almost as soon as the first had left. They carried trays of beef ribs, roasted chickens, and venison fillets. Bronze kettles of soup and steamed vegetables were brought out and more stewards followed with silver plates, forks, knives and spoons. The servants set the plates and cutlery before the Duke’s guests and laid the food at the head of the table.

“
High Priest Delbridge.” Dalton’s deep bass voice cut through the small talk and the hall fell silent. “Would you care to provide us a blessing for this meal?”

“
Oh, uh, of course, Your Grace.” The priest pushed himself to his feet with shaky arms and raised his hands over his head. He was aging, fat in the stomach, and thick in the neck. He was shaved bald, as most priests were. He wore the white robe of a high priest, tied around the midsection with a crimson sash, the color of Bryn the All-Father. His voice deepened as he began his invocation. “All-Father, bless us this meal, the bounty of your lands and the work of our hands.”

“
Thank you.” Dalton cut into the first of the meats as the High Priest retook his seat.

Lord Croutcher took the first cuts of each meat and passed it down the table to the others. Each took a serving and passed it along to the others until all of the dishes had been served.

The lords and advisors carried on with small talk and murmurs, all of them aware of the heavy presence of the reason that they had come to Arndell, but none of them willing to bring the subject to hand before their host.

Dalton spoke again, his voice somber, quieting the conversations about the table. “My Lords and advisors. The time has come for us to discuss the matters at hand.”

The stewards slipped out of the hall and Dalton set his copy of the letter from Eadric Garrard on the table, the seal in full view of everyone.

“
This is the letter that the Lords Clyve, Lord McKinley, and myself received from His Majesty, Eadric Garrard, by the grace of the gods King of Ansgar, Duke of Elsdon and Protector of the Realm. In it, the King instructs us to call our levies to arms, equip them at the nearest King’s Armory, and march them thousands of miles to Aetheston. From whence we will board ships of the King’s Fleet, sail across the Straits of Steimor, and then march thousands of miles more to Welos, where we are to take part in a war that we have no interest in.” Dalton’s tone was harsh. “I have already discussed the matter at length with High Priest Delbridge and my own advisors, but I felt that it would be best discussed in open council with some of my most trusted sworn nobles and lords.”

Dalton pushed his chair back and stood. His face was hard, his eyes distant with thought.

“
Your Grace.” Lord Newman’s voice was smooth and melodic. “We are your sworn lords. We will follow your lead in anything.”

“
That is not what I wanted to hear, Daryl,” Dalton said with a flash of anger. “You swore your oaths to me, true enough. But you’ve also sworn oaths to the crown, and if we do not follow the instructions of this letter, the King will hold you responsible for your part in it.”

“
Your Grace.” Hadrian pulled the Duke’s attention away from the lesser lord. He was better equipped to handle the direct anger of his liege lord, and the lesser lord looked thankful for it. “We will be held accountable, the same as you, but we look to you for your leadership. You control lands much greater than ours, with the incomes and levies that accompany them. We could stand against these instructions, but we would fall quickly if you were not with us.”

Now it was Raedan’s turn to speak. “We swore oaths to the crown.” His brother was not as comfortable with politics as he was, so to hear him speak so soon in such a meeting brought pride to his heart. “But the King swore oaths to us as well. ‘To Protect the Sworn Nobles of Ansgar, I will make no laws or treaties or agreements that will put my Nobles at risk to lose lands, monies or peoples without due compensation and cause.’”

“
An argument could be made that the King intends to compensate us for whatever losses we could incur,” Lord Croxton said.

“
A valid argument,” Raedan allowed. He twisted his onyx ring with a finger and thumb. “But due cause will be a much harder argument to make. Little would be of importance to us on the other side of the world. The argument could be made in our favor that without due cause to send our levies we are not required to comply with these instructions.”

“
I had that thought as well,” Dalton agreed. “High Priest Delbridge, would you care to share your thoughts on this matter with the others?”

“
I, uh, the gods are not very clear on the matter of loyalty between king and noble,” the priest stammered. “The gods tell us to honor our oaths, when doing so does not break another, deeper oath. As long as the first oath is given in good faith by both parties, it is binding upon those who spoke the words and affixed their honor to the pact. However, the argument could be made that the King has not made good faith in his oaths.”

The priest paused and rubbed his thick neck.

“
Then there is the matter of the Broken Plains Barony, wherein the King refused to call the levies to arms to free the land from invaders in order to return it to the rightful heir. In doing nothing, the King not only broke his oaths with the Lord Clyves, but with His Grace Lord Croutcher as well. As Duke and Liege Lord, Lord Croutcher exchanged oaths with His Majesty the King, that stated the Crown would come to aid of the duke and any of his sworn nobles or lords. According to the gods, in my understanding, that made any oaths sworn to him by Lord Croutcher void, and by extension voided any oaths made by the sworn lords and nobles of the Arndell Duchy.”

“
So at the least we have a standing in the sight of the gods for refusing this decree?” Hadrian asked.

“
As my understanding of the word of the gods goes, yes, my lord.”

"That is enough talk of who is in the right,” Dalton said. “We will call our levies to arms and march them to Tirrell. The other dukes will be assembling there as well and we will hold a council to decide how to approach His Majesty with our concerns. I have already called my full levies to arms, as I’m sure you saw on your way into the city. ”

Hadrian felt that there was perhaps something his liege lord was not telling them. “Do you intend to march your full levies to Aetheston, Your Grace?”

“
Yes,” Dalton said. “Perhaps His Majesty will allow me to offer my full levies in exchange for the levies of my nobles. I am better able to suffer the absence of so many soldiers. I have also made arrangements for rail transport from Arndell to Tirrell for all of the levies that are sworn to my nobles. The process will be long, but the trains that I have collected will move men and equipment much faster than marching them.”

“
We thank you, Your Grace,” Raedan said.

Hadrian’s eyes narrowed. He had known Dalton for far too long to be fooled by the man’s attempts to redirect the conversation.

“
Very well then. This meeting is over. My stewards have prepared quarters for everyone. We will be holding a feast to honor our gathered nobles and lords. Until then.” Dalton stood; those gathered at the table did so too. “I would have words with the Lords Clyve and McKinley before you retire to your chambers.”

The lesser lords and advisors stood, bowed to the nobles and stepped out of the room. The doors were shut behind them and Dalton sat.

“
Your Grace?” Lord Cedric asked.

“
I want each of you to call your full levies to arms. I realize that it will take some time, but the majority of your troops will not be needed right away. Call your required levies and travel to Tirrell. Have the rest of the levies arm themselves from your personal armories and begin training. The majority of the Clyve troops have battle experience already, so bringing them back together will be a simple matter.”