Poised in Providence - Part 3

The ambassador was a man not much older than Cele, dressed in a dull red Simonese tunic and leather trousers. Riding boots were strapped to his calves and around his neck he wore a golden medal – a proxy medal. The king would grant them to the nobility they trusted with their affairs. It allowed such nobility to negotiate, even to men above their status.

This man was not tall, nor broad. Wiry, Cele thought, was a good way to describe him. And nervous. His greeting to the king, when he was shown in, was stammered and shaky. And since he was an advisor of King Ingo, it wasn’t likely due to Vincente’s royal station. Perhaps the man was just shy. Cele supposed that by sending a meek, modest man in place of the bold and confident princeling, King Ingo was trying to balance them, countering one extreme with another.

“Duke Adelbert,” Vincente greeted. “Please, sit.”

The duke obliged with a smile, lowering himself onto the cushion that, moments ago, the northern prince sat.

“Tell me.” Vincente’s voice exuded resigned impatience. A simple ploy. One that it seemed the meek lord fell for with ease. “Why is it that King Ingo sends another ambassador who arrived the very moment I began negotiations with the first?”

Adelbert averted the king’s gaze.

“This assignment was not supposed to take as long as it did, and Prince Heiko… he is known for… toying.”

Vincente cocked a brow.

“Why dare send an inadequate ambassador to barter on matters of peace?” Cele questioned, deliberately crass, testing how easily this duke could be riled on behalf of Heiko.

But he only gave a hesitant chuckle.

“King Ingo, in his infinite kindness, was offering the prince a final chance of redemption.”

“Redemption?”

Adelbert nodded. “The prince…he has been trying the king’s patience since he ascended to the throne. Many think it’s jealousy, though…” He spoke in a lower tone, meant, perhaps, only for himself. “Why it would be spurred so late in life, I do not know.”

There was a moment that passed, a moment where Cele was about to part his lips to speak, but Adelbert continued.

“But the prince crossed a line recently.”

“By doing what?” Vincente asked, his curious gaze cast over the lip of the goblet.

An expression that crossed over the duke’s face. The general couldn’t place it in time.

“He locked the barrack doors of the king’s guard after alighting the bedding and curtains.”

Cele’s shock lasted mere moments.

“He burned them alive?”

It was more of a confirmation than a question. Death by fire was an outdated but otherwise commonplace method of execution. Especially in the north. The real question was what was the purpose of Adelbert speaking with such loose lips to men that only days before were sworn enemies? It seemed an obvious attempt at smearing Prince Heiko’s name, but why? And who was really behind it? The duke or the king?

“Many of them survived.” The duke continued. “In constant pain and scarred beyond recognition.”

“That is quite disturbing.” Vincente’s body was still relaxed, calm, not the posture of a man who was just given grotesque details of arson. That was because the Ilysian king knew better than to feed gossip with reaction - whether true or not.

“The prince’s cruelty has no bottom,” continued the duke. “It is an endless well.”

“Why did he do it?”

The duke was expecting Cele’s question, and leaned in as if they were comrades sharing harrowing tales.

“There are rumors, but no one knows the truth, as much as they may think.” When he sat back, he sighed. “But in the end, his delay here was enough to worry King Ingo. Thus, he sent me to right whatever the prince may have wronged. He was once the pride of Simo.”

“Yes,” Cele’s king nodded. “I do remember how fond the late King Gotthard was of his youngest.”

“The youngest and still favored the most - Prince Heiko was born a rarity.”

“You’re not many years older than him,” Vincente noted. “You grew up alongside him?”

“I grew up alongside the king,” Adelbert corrected. “But in those days, Prince Heiko was always by his side.”

“Is that so?” Vincente, just like the general, often consulted Bernardo. He was well aware of the story. But Bernardo was a secondary source - repeating what was repeated. Adelbert, though, he was there.

“He was brilliant. Trained as a priest, educated as a king, skilled as a soldier.” The duke sighed, shifting his head in a grieving fashion. “When he fought in the ninety-first Battle at Tyton, most of us thought it to be…a novel tradition of the Achterecht’s. Every son goes to battle and every son returns home. But Heiko was a scholar before all else. Even King Ingo had a covert plan to ensure his survival - one he shared with only his closest confidants. None of us knew then of his desire to eclipse expectations.”

“He fought at the Battle of Tyton?” The general demanded. He personally led that assault. He remembered it vividly. The victory went to Ilyos, but at a cost not worth what they gained. “That was two years ago.”

“Fifteen isn’t young for princes of Simo.” Adelbert replied.

“Has he been in many campaigns?” Cele pressed. That little princeling didn’t look like he ever laid eyes on a battlefield, forget marching with an army at fifteen.

“Four, along with mandatory border patrol.” The duke caught the glance Cele gave Vincente, and chuckled innocently. “I know, it stunned me and my countrymen as well. I wouldn’t trust that face in a camp of hot blooded men, if I were King Gotthard. If he were anything but a prince, and his brothers were not there to watch him like a hawk, nothing would stop the men from bending him over.”

Cele’s head jerked in surprise. He had not even considered that the prince might get fucked by the soldiers. He was more concerned with the fact that Prince Heiko seemed to lack the character for battle, and yet he was far from green. What’s more, he was angry that the prince had fooled him so easily.

“It stunned you?” Vincente laughed, eyes sharp with provocation. “Isn’t a fifteen-year-old prime for such exploration?”

Adelbert hid what seemed to be a guilty smile.

“Despite… propositions - even if they were met positively - Ingo would not have his brother defiled.”

“Perhaps he is now lashing back for being so sheltered.”

Cele wasn’t sure why Vincente was pushing this subject - perhaps he saw a chink in the duke’s facade. Perhaps the duke had a soft spot for the prince. No, not for the prince - for his body.

The general painted on a playful smile. “Yes, perhaps he felt neglected. All of those proposals and suddenly they fall through. That would make me angry. Wouldn’t that make you angry, your majesty?”

“Indeed.” Vincente was always a quick learn. “Confidence is learned young. If the poor boy wasn’t shown appreciation back then…well, his disposition now makes sense.”

He looked over to the general for faux confirmation.

Cele hummed. “If I had been present, surely he would still be that sweet and playful boy he was two years ago. Not so innocent, though, of course.”

“Enough of Prince Heiko.” For the first time since their introduction, his tone was sharp and cross, his cheeks flushed with what Cele could only assume was anger.

It made the general smirk.

“About negotiations.” Adelbert set dark eyes on Vincente. “King Ingo’s terms are simple. He wants the mountain pass north of Tyton. And, of course, access – channeled through Ilysian policies – to the kharvan. In return, we will offer safe trade routes to Burke. Trade negotiations with Burke must be conducted with a Simonese ambassador that will be both assigned to and housed with you.”

“And of course, peace,” Vincente said, almost condescendingly.

Cele sat back, casting his eyes down to the stone floor in thought. Why had Prince Heiko warned them of the Burkean longbows? Was he trying to deter negotiations? To start a war? But to what end? If it was done out of spite, then perhaps the absurd facts he was spitting out regarding the longbow was simply a stalling tactic. No king worth their salt would buy the story that a kingdom wants foreign archers when they have their own tucked away. Such would inspire distrust - a seedling of deception. And what adequate king would agree to any accord with a suspicious kingdom?

“Of course,” Adelbert nodded.

“I find it disconcerting that King Ingo used this crucial moment in our histories as a game.” Vincente reached forward, using the stem of his goblet to knock over a marble, leaving the wine as he sat back. “I question his sincerity when, instead of treating me and my kingdom as adversaries that must be shown proper etiquette and respect, as a nation and as the current custodians of Tyton, he sends a boy who he knows will fail, and even goes so far as to have prepared an ambassador for the inevitable occasion.”

Vincente barked for a servant, before turning back to Adelbert.

“I will consider what you have said to me today, and I will ponder whether or not the benefits of Simo’s allegiance is truly worth tolerating the utter audacity and disrespect that your king has shown me today.”

When the servant arrived at the threshold, Vincente stood, with Cele following suit not a breath after.

“I regret that you must suffer the brunt of this, Duke Adelbert, as you seem to be a decent man. But your loyalties are chosen, and thus, you are not beyond reproach.”

Vincente nodded to the servant.

“You will be brought to your chambers now. I will have my decision soon.”