Dishonour by Dee Carteri (best memoirs of all time .txt) 📖

man, walked up to the table. "My good wizard, I must protest these seating arrangements," he said dryly. "I will not tolerate the company of traitors not only to the honor of Octania, but also to the very people who serve it."

Nesel shouted, "I am the rightful king! Lakent is the traitor, and his Seers lackeys!"

"A ‘rightful king,’ as you so eloquently put it, is the father of his people," Lakent stated with cold fury. "I doubt such a man would send his children unwillingly into the torment and death of war."

Sir Maceol said, "It must be done! We cannot abandon the Western kingdoms!"

"The Shadow worshippers are being beaten with our current support," noted Elmdoor.

Nesel almost screamed, "The tide may turn! We need more men to drive them once and for all from this land!"

Lakent looked at his nephew-in-law with disgust. "For sooth, Nesel? Why then have we not returned the recaptured lands to their kings?" He turned toward the entire congregation in a dramatic pose. "Listen well, all gathered here. Nesel claims that he wishes to restore Gaiadom, but in his heart he dreams himself its master."

"Then fight me, coward! Prove the virtue of your claims!" Nesel said as he drew his blade. William knew this was unwise. Obviously, Lakent could not refuse the challenge, for that would prove his testimony false. He could, however, hire the best champion money could buy to represent him on the field of battle. Being a noble, Nesel would not be permitted the use of a champion. Lakent’s representative could easily be told to kill rather than wound. It could all end now. Nesel checked his anger and glanced about nervously, realizing the consequences of his outburst.

Lakent’s laughter rang through the hall. "What a prison you’ve crafted for yourself, young fool. You’re stuck between the hammer of my champion and the anvil of your pride."

Fear showed in Nesel’s eyes. He took a step back and sheathed his sword.

"But I, perhaps, am just as foolish as you," said Lakent. William frowned. What was the man planning? "For only by showing mercy to my most powerful foe can I demonstrate the true nature of my ideals." Supporters on both sides were puzzled by this turn of events.

"I refuse the challenge."

In the ensuing silence, Elmwood walked over to Lakent’s supporters, and waited patiently while pages scrambled to produce a chair and table for him to sit at.

Elmwood sat down and spoke doom. "I owe my allegiance to Lakent Bolare." At the other end of the hall, Lakent smiled. He was glad to have this old friend in such a time of need.

Two other Dukes, of Upper Silat and Angelos, crossed over to sit with Elmwood. Nesel kneaded his knuckles nervously. Lakent now completely controlled the Lower Highway, not to mention a direct attack route to Whiterift, should they decide to dominate the debate at the point of a sword. Nesel looked at Lord Randolph. The Marquis clasped his right wrist and tightened his right hand into a fist. Nesel understood the gesture. Should all the forces of heaven or earth seek to destroy it, the city would not fall.

A page gave Nesel a note signed Maceol. Obviously Maceol had not written it himself, being illiterate, but his squire Kay was a skilled scribe, and could have easily worn the black of the scholar, should he have chosen a quieter life.

The note read: Do not fear, for we still control Salushire and South Curith. If need be, we could bring forces down the coast from Hitali and Yantsima to break a siege.

The Duke of Tandar, Lord Heinrek, professed his allegiance to Lakent.

Nesel was outraged. "Heinrek! When your palace was burning to the ground and your family in the hands of the eastern raiders, who pulled you from the flames and rescued your kin? Who saved your family, that your descendents might rule for a thousand years?"

Heinrek looked back. "You did what you were ordered to do. Nothing more. I will not follow a pawn of the Knights."

"You ungrateful bastard! I curse you, and all your kin! May you burn in the flame from which I saved you!"

Nesel stormed out, his shocked retainers hurrying after.

Duke Iaen caught up to him first. "Nesel, you must be more careful."

Nesel screeched, "I would rather risk my chance of succession than cower before those ungrateful commoners!"

"My lord, you are lucky to have left that hall with your head, let alone the red circlet. These men will not easily relinquish their chance at the throne. Whiterift is already threatened on two sides."

"You expect me to sacrifice honor to appease those pigs?"

"I expect you to sacrifice pride to save Octania. Those pigs are quickly recruiting wolves to their side."

"Treacherous bastards."

Iaen resisted the urge to strike his lord. "The peasantry, the Strength, largely support Lakent. If you do not move to comfort them, it could mean civil war."

"If they want war, let them have it!" Nesel gestured to a nearby servant. "Send emissaries to Duke Challey of Lecoy and Prime Archon Yessin of Jirith. I must know where they stand. If Yessin will not lend military aid, demand twice the tribute in iron and weapons, medicine and beasts.

"Should I contact the Sybürmians?" Nesel asked Iaen.

Iaen replied, "Nay. They consider themselves our allies, but even more so do they consider the Shadow worshippers their enemies."

"Then they should help me, help Octania continue the war."

"Nesel, no Sybürmian soldier is going to abandon the Westerners just to travel here to fight for a king who isn’t theirs who believes in a cause they don’t understand just for a possibility of Octanian reinforcements coming to aid them."

"Very well. Are there any representatives of Lyn’quo in the city?"

The servant answered, "High Priest Fashin arrived yesterday, with two paladins of the Order of the White Seraph, but-"

"Summon them to my hall for one hour past noon tomorrow. Dismissed."

Maruc and Jaku walked down the crowded street with several bodyguards. It wasn’t market day, but workshops and grocers lining the alley were still accepting business from a throng of customers.

Jaku suddenly exclaimed, "But he could have killed the bastard!"

"Well, yes. But then he’d be disgraced and seen as a tyrant, one cruel enough to spill noble blood. Even if he took the throne, support for him would drop, the knights would find some distant royal cousin and depose him within the year. Just let Lakent have his moment of glory. The longer he’s seen as a friend of the people, the longer we have to consolidate his position."

Jaku said sarcastically, "Oh, what wonder learning is! Why, if the knights ever come knocking at your door, I’m sure your knowledge will impress them so as not to gut you like the traitorous pig you are."Wedding’s Day, September 2, 1268 A.R.


Fashin sat in the small antechamber waiting for the Baron to arrive, conversing quietly with one of the paladins on matters of theology. The two paladins were strong, tall men, with dirty blond hair and blue eyes, after the manner of northerners. They had come without arms or armor, and wore clean white gowns over black trousers with a dragon crest embroidered above their left shoulder. The crest, of course, was depicting the white dragons of the south, which were rumored to be the personal servants of Lynoxi. The god of Lyn’quo was always depicted as a kindly old man in a white robe or an able bodied youth hunting in the wilds. Lynoxi was slow to send his messengers to earth, and even slower to come himself to lend aid to his worshippers. In Lyn’quo it was held that he last walked abroad in the year 1008 A.R. in the form of Garethi, a young hunter who taught the Priests how to make and appease the Torch, that they might shield themselves from the powers of evil that plagued the world. A small luncheon o f cold meats and soft bread had been prepared, although they ate little and drank none, feeling that this food would be put to better use by whatever lowly servant could steal it first after the meeting. They had plenty of food left in their saddlebags.

Nesel walked in, followed by Duke Iaen and Marquis Randolph and four armed soldiers.

"Gaia’s Love, High Priest Fashin," said Nesel as he bowed his head slightly."

Fashin looked at him, a little surprised. What use would a Priest have for the green god’s affection? "Lynoxi’s Blessing, Baron Nesel," he said with a hint of sarcasm.

Nesel, of course, now realized his error. With his greeting, he had implied that Lynoxi was an inferior god, one incapable of protecting his worshippers, and that his followers should seek the attention of another god to protect them.

Nesel stammered in a most undiplomatic fashion, "My apologies, High Priest. I meant nothing by it."

"It’s quite all right, Lord. I thought nothing of it."

Iaen sat forward, "As you know, Octania is rapidly becoming divided over the issue of succession. The people do not understand the necessity of the western war. If this goes on, they may become, er, disobedient."

One of the paladins exclaimed, "They speak of rebellion? They would start a war to end one?"

"Soft, Tireces. It seems to me that the knights are the rebels, and the peasants are protecting their own," said Fashin.

Nesel said, "I am the rightful heir to the throne. I am the last prince of Octania."

"What makes you a prince? You have neither land, nor people, nor knowledge. You call yourself a prince when all you have is a name. Rather call yourself an upstart baron, and so be truthful about it!"

Iaen pressed, "You must see the necessity of the war with the Shadow worshippers. Would you have us mimic your ‘glorious’ people, and shut ourselves behind a wall of sorcery while the warlocks take the lands one by one?"

"We too have a quarrel with the Shadow worshippers, but will fight it in our own way, in our own time. I believe many of your people feel the same way. You cannot force them to fight when they do not wish it."

"Then Lyn’quo will support Lakent?"

"Lynoxi’s Light, no. He too wishes to dominate others and force them to give up a cause they would die for."

Randolph looked questioningly, "So you will scorn both sides, and lend aid or counsel to neither?"

Fashin said, "My lords, surely you must realize the paradox of seeking aid from the people of Lyn’quo. Our armies serve the Truth of Lynoxi, as our Priests serve the Silence. To have our armies serve you, you must first attain the purity and Truth of Lynoxi Himself. But were you completely in the right, there would be no war to fight; for your enemy’s resolve would be dashed against you as a ship upon the rocks. As for counsel, here is my counsel to you: share the throne with Lakent, if either of you can humble yourselves for the good of Octania. Give up not the war, but do not tax the people more than is rightful. I bid you good day, or Gaia’s Love, if you prefer." He and the paladins walked out the door.

The door to the small cabin creaked anxiously as Jaku and Maruc walked in. It was a small thatched place in the woods surrounding the Angelos. The roar of the wide