The Storm King

Chapter 352: Political Trap

The events surrounding the death of Tiberias took the entire city by surprise. For a noble to be so brazenly murdered in the streets was unheard of in the Bull Kingdom. It had happened before, but not in living memory; these days, most nobles kept their business out of the public eye. If assassins were to be involved, they wouldn’t strike out in the open.

Of course, Tiberias hadn’t been exactly killed in the open, he’d been killed on a deserted road in the noble district. Still, that hardly made much of a difference. At the end of the day, the son of a powerful Duke was still dead, killed in a place that should’ve been safe.

What was more, Tiberias’ death was immediately overshadowed by a duel between a pair of freakishly powerful mages in the city, and there were far more people talking about it than about the death of a nobleman too young to have earned much name recognition.

Duke Euphemius Decimius’ rage was immense, though. When he arrived at the ambush point and collected his son’s body, he was inconsolable and alternated between hysterical weeping over Tiberias’ body and spitting fiery wrath practically second-to-second. With Tiberias dead in his arms, Euphemius had completely abandoned his noble demeanor.

This wasn’t unexpected, of course. Euphemius had other children, but Tiberias was his oldest son and his heir. His wives, for the most part, raised his children, but Tiberias was the one he had spent the most amount of time personally raising.

In the weeks that followed, no one connected either Leon or Naiad to the ambush. No one even showed up at Leon’s villa asking for an interview, even though he and Tiberias had been at the same party less than an hour before Tiberias’ murder and had left at about the same time. Leon suspected that that was because he was a knight in the service of Prince Trajan, but as the man who killed Tiberias, he wasn’t about to complain.

There was most certainly an investigation, of course, but it didn’t seem to touch Leon, and he wasn’t going to rock the boat on that front. If the investigators didn’t suspect him, then asking questions about it would be the worst thing he could possibly do.

There were a few unintended consequences to Leon’s actions, though few of them actually impacted him in any meaningful way. However, they greatly impacted Trajan and the King’s advisory council.

—

“I want whoever murdered my son found and executed!” Duke Euphemius raged, his normally handsome and chiseled features marred by three weeks of mourning and lack of care. In fact, this meeting was the first time since he’d gone to collect his son’s body from the ambush site that the Duke of Aurelianorum had been seen outside of his estate.

“I assure you, Your Grace, that we are doing everyth-“ the Consul of the Central Territories began, attempting to soothe the Duke’s wrath and bring some patience back to him. The Legions had little power to question the landed class, which made finding leads on Tiberias’ killer difficult since the young man was killed in the noble district after coming home from a party filled with nobility. Unfortunately, that meant that the investigators couldn’t even get a guest list for the party to speak with the commoners there, and all other leads into the matter had turned up empty.

However, after almost two years of economic setbacks from Heaven’s Eye and no answers to his multiple attempts to figure out why they had done something like that, along with the perceived insult of more resources going to finding out the identities of the two eighth-tier mages who got into a duel practically right next to the place where Tiberias had been killed, Euphemius’ patience wasn’t what it once was, as was plain to see for the members of the advisory council.

If the Central Consul were to try and explain why this was important to the investigation—the two eighth-tier mages fighting right next to where Tiberias had been killed were almost certainly related despite those few mages who witnessed the latter parts of the ambush through their magic senses not supporting that theory, and besides, it was effectively the only lead that they truly had right now—Euphemius would only grow angrier and perhaps even reach the point of violence if the Consul were to try and explain that to him.

The Duke was a smart and rational man, of course, he already knew everything that the Consul would try and explain. He didn’t need to be talked down to like an emotional child, he needed those base and foul assassins that murdered his son to be made a head shorter.

“You’re not doing enough!” Euphemius shouted. “I want heads on fucking spikes!”

His behavior, while incredibly rude and uncouth, was understandable, and few tried to calm him down. Of course, it was one thing for him to act like this in the advisory council, surrounded by peers and men and women of similar rank, it would be another thing if he were to behave like this in public. Still, while most people present were willing to forgive the grieving father a few harsh words, Trajan was not.

“Duke Decimius,” the immense Prince began, his deep resonant voice echoing throughout the chamber and carrying a hint of killing intent that sent a chill down Euphemius’ spine that quite effectively cooled his anger, “please remember that you are before Royalty.”

Trajan needed to say no more; Duke Euphemius glanced around at the other Lords and high officials in the room and, as if waking from a nightmare and realizing where he was, he quietly sat back down. He wasn’t sitting at the main table as he wasn’t officially a member of the council, though he was still of high enough rank to be permitted entry to the chamber, especially when the business they were discussing had to do with him and how the consequences of his son’s death would play out.

“Now, then,” Trajan said once Euphemius had quieted down, “let’s get to the constructive part of this meeting.”

“Yes,” August agreed, and Trajan seamlessly handed off the speaking role to his nephew, causing a few noble eyebrows to rise in mild offense, not the least of which being both Octavius and the Central Consul. “In the past couple of months, there have been two high-profile attacks on prominent residents of the noble district-“

August had undergone quite the transformation after the awakening of his blood, as was plain for everyone to see. His body was more thickly muscled, his skin looked healthier, and he radiated youthful energy. It was obvious what had happened, and it made more than a few nobles nervous, since awakening the blood of the Sacred Bull did a lot to legitimize a claimant in the eyes of the loyalist nobility. Chief among those who felt the pressure of August’s blood awakening was his rival and elder brother, Prince Octavius.

“Oh?” Octavius interrupted. “I have obviously heard about the murder of Lord Tiberias, but who was the second of these ‘prominent’ residents?”

“Sir Leon Ursus,” August responded. “His villa was violently attacked by a nest of vampires not too long ago! Surely you remember this?”

“A northern barbarian who happened to receive a knighthood is hardly a ‘prominent’ member of the nobility, no matter whose daughter he happens to be fucking,” the elderly Countess of Lindinis venomously stated, to the agreement of many in the chamber. Leon was a Legate and a knight in the service of Prince Trajan, but his name alone was enough for these men and women to dismiss him outright. It didn’t matter that he had a Prince and the local Tower Lord on his side, though that was usually enough for people to watch their tongues where he was concerned.

The Countess of Lindinis, on the other hand, had a quality unique to those who were old or incredibly entitled—in short, people who didn’t think they’d have to deal with consequences—and spared nothing for the young knight.

Trajan glared at her and said, “While your opinion is valuable, My Lady, it’s not always appreciated. Civility is a noble virtue, is it not?”

“Indeed it is,” the Countess agreed, though her tone was almost sharp enough to cut the council table in half, “but civility is wasted on the uncivilized.”

Before Trajan could respond, August cleared his throat and said, “Let’s not get off track arguing over semantics and who is or isn’t ‘prominent’. The fact of the matter remains that there was a large attack perpetuated by vampires on a member of my uncle’s retinue, and a violent and deadly assault upon the party of Tiberias Decimius. This meeting has been called, in part, to address these issues and ensure that this does not lead to a rise of lawlessness within the city. As it is, I wouldn’t be surprised if people were losing faith in this Kingdom’s ability to protect them!”

“What I want to know is why in the name of the Ancestors was a savage targeted by vampires?” the Central Consul asked, ignoring much of what August just stated. “What is he hiding that he warrants the level of violence they tried to enact upon him?”

“I agree that this ‘Leon Ursus’ warrants investigation,” Octavius said. “Perhaps we might find something that you don’t want to find, Brother?” When August gave Octavius a blank, questioning look, Octavius continued with the smile of a spider who had just caught a gnat in its web, “Our loyal members of the 1st Legion had even begun a preliminary investigation, but at the word of you and our dear uncle, that investigation was called off. What is it about Leon Ursus that you two don’t want us to know?”

“Leon Ursus is not pertinent to this discussion,” Trajan said. “The merits of launching an investigation into him is not for this council to discuss. What is our purview is how to deal with what very much seems like a rising tide of violence in the city.”

“Yes,” August said with some gratitude as he and Trajan quickly deflected away from the possibility of investigating Leon—both knew his name and saw little benefit in letting it leak, at least for the time being. “I propose that we increase Legion patrols in the noble district. Our response times in these incidents has been appalling, to say the least. It took at least fifteen minutes for our soldiers to arrive at the scene of Lord Tiberias’ murder, and more than half an hour to reach Sir Leon’s villa. Who’s to say how long it might take them to arrive if any of your estates are attacked?”

No one said anything, but there were few smug faces around the table. The nobles quite enjoyed the lack of Legion oversight in the noble district, even if it meant they had to rely upon their private retinues to protect their own estates.

“I, then, call it to be voted upon,” Trajan said, wasting no time with debate, which certainly ruffled a few feathers around the room. “All in favor of increasing Legion patrols, raise your hands.”

For most decisions, little more was needed than a simple majority. The sole exceptions being matters to do with foreign policy and warfare, which was to say matters dealing with foreign states in what little capacity that the advisory council was authorized to administer in the absence of the King and without calling the Assembly into session.

In this case, less than a quarter of those at the table raised their hands, and they were all common-born officials. Both the landed and landless nobles, who comprised more than half of the council, kept their hands down. The Countess of Lindinis actually snorted in amusement at the sight of August’s measure failing by such a wide margin, and Octavius gave his younger brother a condescending smile.

“Brother,” he began, speaking down to August as if the latter were a child, “such drastic measures need not be taken. A few scattered incidents are nothing to be alarmed about, it’s best not to make a mountain range out of a few molehills.”

“Why not? As Duke Decimius may attest, there are lives on the line,” Trajan said, eliciting a glare from the Duke.

“Not enough to justify such a drastic and unnecessary change,” Octavius replied.

“So, then, are we to believe that the Lords of this Kingdom do not require protection from the Legions?” August asked, his face one of stony impassivity.

His attitude took Octavius by surprise, and the Second Prince felt like something was off here. However, before he could say anything, the Countess of Lindinis said what was on the mind of most of the other nobles present.

“Of course we don’t need the protection of the Legions!” she vehemently insisted. “What happened to Lord Tiberias was a tragedy, but such an overcorrection is hardly needed!”

“In that case,” August said as a slight smile momentarily graced his lips and he gestured to one of his assistants. “you wouldn’t mind we made a few adjustments to the current Legion deployments?”

August’s assistant quickly passed out a sheet of paper to the voting members of the council, upon which were a pair of simplistic maps of the Bull Kingdom divided into its five territories. On the first map they recognized the current Legion deployment—there had already been a temporary redeployment recently due to the vampiric threat, leaving the current Legion count at six Legions in the west, six in the south, eight in the center, eight more in the north, and twelve in the east. Below that map was what August was proposing, a permanent redeployment to last beyond the end of the vampiric threat, whenever that might be.

August’s proposal was to leave the west and south with a mere four Legions apiece and reduce the Central Territories to a paltry five Legions. Still enough for the royal demesne in all three regions to remain fully patrolled and defended, but it took away a hundred and twenty thousand professional soldiers from lands that seemed to every day fall more and more under Octavius’ sway. Octavius had already essentially won over the nobles in these territories, and August didn’t want to give him half of the Legions in the Kingdom, too.

To that end, the final count of Legions in the second map was four in the west, four in the south, five in the center, twelve in the north, and a staggering fifteen Legions in the east.

Many of the nobles in the room, including both Octavius and the Central Consul stared blankly at the second map, unsure what to make of it. August wasn’t going to wait for their response, though, and pressed onward with his pitch.

“Since all of you profess that you do not require the Legions to remain safe, I did a little digging and came to the conclusion that you all, in fact, are correct. We can safely downscale Legion presence in these regions and maintain the operations that we are currently running without trouble. However, the recent Valeman raid in the Northern Territories, the war with the Talfar Kingdom, and the rise of vampires across the Kingdom—but especially in the sparsely populated regions of the north and east—has shown to me that these Legions are needed in these theaters far more than where they are now. Thus, I propose these redeployments.”

“All in favor, raise your hands,” Trajan said, not giving the nobles time to really think over the issue—he wasn’t technically required to, and though it was incredibly rude, neither he nor August wanted Octavius to come up with some non-hypocritical way to keep those Legions where they were.

While this move had been in the works for a while, the real problem with it was timing. The nobles were loath to give up their privileges and resented Legion oversight, so it was a pretty safe bet that they could successfully swing this and deprive Octavius of potentially one hundred and twenty thousand soldiers, but both Trajan and August doubted that the other Prince would take this lying down. However, Trajan and August were banking on the nobles having more to gain from getting the Legions out of their hair than they had in letting them stay so close to their lands. And with both Trajan and August—among other government officials, including those not on the advisory council—pushing for more Legion patrols in response to the violence in the city and the uncovered vampire threat, they felt it was a proposal that was quite likely to pass.

Of course, these Legions had been stationed where they had been for the express reason of keeping an eye on those nobles, and moving them away would tacitly increase the autonomy of the King’s noble vassals, but in this case, August felt they would be doing much more good away from these territories than within them, at least until the conflicts between himself and Octavius had been put to bed.

Octavius, of course, didn’t raise his hand, and neither did the Consul of the Central Territories. In fact, many nobles who would stand to gain from less Legion patrols around their lands didn’t raise their hands. However, many others who were more loosely aligned with Octavius saw the benefits of a smaller Legion presence around their land, and in the end, the measure gained the council’s approval with a little over half of the votes.

Octavius’ face was the very picture of serenity, but inside he was a mess of anger. He couldn’t say anything to keep those Legions where they were without alienating some of his support and potentially appearing to be a hypocrite, but he also greatly wanted those Legions. With the council now approving the measure, though, they were now essentially lost to him for the immediate future.

“There’s another matter to discuss,” Trajan said, pressing forward now that they had some momentum.

“The Serpentine Isles,” August said with a smile, “spit on the image of the Bull Kingdom with their recent disregard for the terms of their surrender more than fifty years ago. For years, now, they have failed to provide to the Bull Kingdom the tribute required of them, and that cannot stand! Thus, I propose we send the 3rd fleet on an expedition to the Serpentine Isles and reassert their tributary status!”

Again, Trajan didn’t give the other members time for debate. It had, however, much less potential for controversy, since piracy had greatly declined after the subjugation of the Serpentine Isles by the Penitent Paladin more than fifty years ago. Besides, most of the nobility’s land was land-locked, and so they didn’t worry so much about the fleets watching over them as they did about the Legions. Everyone agreed that the Earls of the Serpentine Isles needed to be brought back to heel before they turned back to piracy, which they all believed to be quite likely, as well as the need to maintain the dignity of the Bull Kingdom on the world stage.

As a result, this measure passed with quite a few more votes than the previous one did, even though it deprived Octavius of a fleet. Still, though, with thirteen of the remaining fourteen fleets operating from the south and the west—the remaining one technically operated from the south but was based out of Ariminium—so he ended up grudgingly voting for it. It was hard to argue against maintaining superiority over the Serpentine Isles when he aspired to be King; he had to maintain the dignity and prestige of the Bull Kingdom, after all.

With that, the meeting ended, with both Trajan and August feeling like it had been a resounding success.

Octavius, on the other hand, had lost seven Legions and a fleet, at least for a while. He was not happy.

—

Octavius slammed the door of his office shut so hard it almost broke the magically reinforced frame. He was alone, save for the Sapphire and Earthshaker Paladins; with Gaius now a knight, he was essentially relegated to being one of Octavius’ followers rather than his squire, though since he was acting as a hostage for Octavius to hold over his family, leaving Octavius’ retinue wasn’t really an option. Gaius was happy enough to leave Octavius’ immediate proximity, though, even if he was still stuck as a knight in his service.

The Paladins were silent; they had been present in the meeting of the council, and they had seen this great loss.

“I think…” Octavius began before pausing in hesitation. After a couple seconds of thought, though, he seemed to regain his nerve. “I think that August is getting a bit too full of himself. My uncle, too. I think we might need to get rid of them both, and I think I have just the method for doing so…”