The Fall of Onagros by Marian Allen

Author:Marian Allen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Per Bastet Publications LLC
Published: 2013-11-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Martyrs to the Crown

When Landry ascended Karol's throne, he did not expect his rule to be popular. Profitable rule is seldom popular, and the love of the people was not one of Landry's objects. Their obedience, however, was, and obedience depends only partly on fear. To a far greater extent, it depends on respect.

The people did not respect him, Landry knew – not the ones who gave any thought to who ruled them. They saw Landry as a jumped-up Chamberlain, as Oliva's vassals would have viewed Rhu beren Robia had he suddenly claimed her Thanehold.

Landry sought the advice, not of his own Chamberlain, but of his new favored advisor – Guthrie beren Melanell. He called him to his private sitting room.

"The respect of a swarm of cottars and villeins?" said Guthrie, as if he had not risen, himself, and recently, from that same swarm. "Fear, and fear, and more fear: That's what the grumblers need. Single out a few and make examples of them."

Before Landry could complete a gesture dismissing the advice, Guthrie hurried on. "I mean for good, as well as ill. Let me find some who speak for you and some who speak against you. Reward each according to his merit. You'll soon find more to sing your praise and fewer to… do less."

Landry considered this. "Turning the people against each other would serve nobody – except, possibly, the Emir of Kozabir." The Kinninger shook his head. His eyes were downcast; he didn't see how Guthrie's hand grasped the pommel of his sword as a man might grasp his lover's wrist to signal silence. "Giving with one hand and taking with the other makes the people ignore both hands or want to cut them off. I've seen Thaneholds go to shambles through that method. I need to rally the people to me, somehow."

"Declare a war. Uncover a secret society of evil within some small ethnic group – detect a conspiracy."

The Kinninger's eyes were on his Chief Sword, now, but Guthrie was looking past the room, past the bailey grounds, and into a crimson mist. Landry couldn't feel the Sword's heart thudding; he couldn't hear the monstrous symphony of clash and shriek and breakage the Sword heard. He only saw and listened to a man who was onto something. "Go on."

"My Lord, there are rumors among the Swords that the men who killed Her Grace's heart-husband were not mere renegades. Some of my loyal men are whispering that there is a ring of traitors, in the pay of the Emir. They were ordered to kill Karol before she could invest more power in you, because they feared your discernment. They thought that Karol's death would pass the throne to Sorcha beren Ada, who would not have been able to keep control."

"They would have disrupted Layounna, if I had not taken it in charge!"

"The foundation of the country rests only on your shoulders, My Lord. The spies, themselves, will say so, in their confessions."

"You know these spies' identities?"

"Most of them, My Lord.

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