In the Shadow of Lions - Chapter 12

Ebbwater, Barony of Dunwic Reach, Duchy of Kingsheart, Sidor

Tom Fletcher stood atop the wagon, looking out at the assembly of men gathered in Geoffrey’s barn. Local farmers and craftsmen mostly, though he noted more than a few road-weary travelers among them, faces etched with hardship from weeks’ worth of travel to get here. At a glance, Tom counted seventy men at least, so many that the great barn seemed full to bursting even with both large doors thrown open to the late spring air.

The noise washed over him as the people, angry and frustrated, vented their rage. He’d seen firsthand how angry the people were getting, but even he didn’t realize it had gotten to this level. When he’d sent out the word to friends and friends of friends that there would be a meeting to discuss how to deal with all of the new insults by the crown, he’d made it clear he was looking to talk to some of them, hear their stories, and not tell them how they would fix it or offer solutions right away.

None of that seemed to matter to the people who’d shown up. They wanted relief, and even the hint of someone able to offer it was enough to put fire under each of them, demanding answers.

“These new taxes will ruin us!” a farmer cried out, his face flushed with anger. “My family already goes hungry. We’ll not last the winter at this rate!”

He shook his fists in the air as others shouted their agreement.

“At least you can still till your land and grow crops,” another man retorted, this one a little better dressed in a woolen tunic. “My business is trade, carrying goods from one barony to the other. How can I work if I’m not even allowed to leave The Reach?”

More shouts started piling on others, men shouting at the same time.

“Half my crop wasted, rotting, unable to sell it two towns over.”

“The tax collector took my only milk cow for back taxes!”

“My son was arrested for simply asking why the taxes were so high this year. Who tills my fields now?” an older farmer lamented.

“Enough is enough! We should drive out the next collector that comes round!” A large, barrel-chested man bellowed, shaking his fist.

“Fighting the king’s men is madness. I heard of a village up north that tried. Burned to the ground, every last one,” another yelled in reply.

The noise rose as more and more shouted, until it became a cacophony, words spilling on top of each other, until it was all unintelligible shouting. He wanted to see how much fire they had in them, if they were ready to do what they must. Now he knew.

“Friends! Friends! Hear me!” Tom said, raising his hands.

He waited as the din slowly died down, heads turning in his direction, faces still angry. Some continued shouting and shaking their fists until their neighbors nudged them to silence.

“Friends, I share your outrage. The new restrictions and taxes are unjust, no argument there.”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd.

“And you’ve got fire in your bellies, I like that. Shows you’ve got heart. But we’ve got to be smart about this.” Tom paused, holding his hands up for quiet again as angry shouts threatened to drown him out. “What you heard about the village up north is true, and it’s a harsh lesson. They dragged a dozen men off in chains, fathers and husbands just trying to put food on the table. And what they did to the village headman... no, that is not how you want your story to end. None of you.”

The crowd was silent now, taking in Tom’s warning.

“Well then, what do you suggest?” challenged the barrel-chested man who’d called for vindication against the king’s tax collectors.

“I’m not saying we do nothing. We need to act, that is for sure, but we need to be smart about it. They’ve shown they’re willing to take this out on our families and kill anyone they have to, if it means upholding their tyranny. If the crown can blame one village on an act of vengeance, they’ll bring their wrath down on every man, woman, and child there.”

Murmurs of agreement spread through the crowd.

“And we can’t fight their knights in the field,” he continued. “Yes, there’s more of us than them, but they can bring on armored men, archers, and all the tools of war we’d never be able to stand up against.”

“Those all sound like reasons for us to do nothing,” the trader said.

“No, they’re reasons why we can’t do something impulsive. Foolish,” Tom said. “That isn’t the same as doing nothing. The king’s men are spread out, trying to collect taxes from everywhere at once and there are more of us than them. We know these lands, these people. They don’t.”

“So we become bandits?” someone else said.

“No. Not bandits. Anything we liberate, we give to the villages hit the hardest. We keep none of it. Our goal is to make the cost of collecting these taxes so high, that they can’t afford it anymore.”

“What about the baron’s men?” Someone asked. “Most of the tax collectors work for the barons, not the king.”

“True,” Tom said. “We have to be careful. Our fight is with the crown, mostly, and not the barons. Some of the barons are in bed with the crown, but many are as unhappy with the new taxes and edicts as we are. They can’t openly defy the crown, not without an army at their gates.”

“How will we know which is which?”

“Because they will be supporting us quietly, in their own way. Food for those that need it. Weapons for those with courage and skill to use them. We can coordinate with them, after a fashion. If we plan to strike the king’s men, their soldiers might just happen to be in the wrong place at the right time, keeping their men from becoming involved. When they’re forced to collect the crown’s taxes, we will find it easier to relieve them of those unjust burdens without any bloodshed, so the coin can find its way back to the people.”

“How does a woodcutter know so much about barons and their plans?” Someone in the crowd called out, eliciting good-natured chuckles.

“Does it matter?” Old Neil asked. “Known Tom since he was a boy! Good head on those shoulders and eyes open to more than chopping wood. Fine man and no better to lead our cause.”

There were nods of agreement from men around the room who knew him. The problem was, that was only a small portion of the gathered men. This was a diverse crowd from all over, most of whom didn’t know Tom, or even who might be talking to them. All they knew was there had been word that someone might have a solution to the sudden outrages from the crowd... and that they were desperate. They were also suspicious. The king’s men were about and what was being said here could be taken as treason.

“I have been fortunate enough to have made many friends over the years, some who know people beyond the type someone like myself might encounter. But these are good people. People who want to help. They searched around for who they could talk to, asking friends and then friends of friends, until they landed on me. I didn’t ask to be put in this position, but I can’t shrink from it either. Not with what I’ve seen happen recently. So I agreed.”

“Why do any of the highborn even care?” Another called out.

“A fair question, and one I don’t have answers for. Their reasons are their own. Some do it because they have a love for their people, others because they see the way things are going as bad for the kingdom, which would ultimately be bad for them and their own fortunes. Some probably see profit in it and look to use us. Honestly, when pressed I can only ask. Do we care? If they come through with what they promise, we should take it and use these tools to lessen our burdens. They have used us for long enough, I say it’s about time to return the favor.”

“What if it’s a trap, to catch anyone disloyal?”

“That’s why we will be careful about this, and why it won’t happen right away. We make sure each step of the way they can deliver what is offered, and only put a few of us in danger each time, so that if it is a trap, we cannot name others when pressed.”

More murmurs this time. They were coming around, and only needed a push to go the rest of the way.

“In the end, I don’t care about any baron or duke or any other lord who seeks to rule us. I care about the people. My people. Who just want to live our lives and support our families. For that, I stand ready to spend blood and limb. I’m ready to take a stand and to do what must be done to rid ourselves of this tyranny. Who stands with me?”

The murmurs died down as they came to the moment. Up until now, it had been complaining, men grousing about the actions of those above them. Now was the time to commit, and it was up to each man to do that on their own.

“I’m with you,” the barrel-chested man said, taking a symbolic step forward.

“And me,” said another, joining him.

By twos and threes, men stepped forward, until it became a rush of men offering their oaths to fight the king’s men. Tom jumped down and stepped up to the large man who’d spoken with such fire and been the first to step forward.

A good first step.

***

Sidorian Army Camp, Chansol River, Lynese

William shifted uneasily, adjusting his weight from side to side in the saddle as he watched the ragged band of “recruits” being led into the encampment by Starhaven Guardsmen. Even from a distance, he could see the hopeless, defeated postures of the recruits, their shoulders slumped and heads bowed low as they trudged along. It was clear they weren’t here by choice or free will.

The guardsmen, who’d been a constant presence in the capital when he was younger, now seemed out of place marching next to the army. Their ornate armor, which had always impressed William with its intricate decorations, now appeared almost fanciful compared to the solid, well-used armor of the soldiers.

As the procession drew nearer, William noted the recruits’ tattered clothing, smudged skin, unkempt hair and beards, all showing signs of longer-term neglect; skin stretched thin over jutting bones, eyes sunken in gaunt faces. Seeing them, it didn’t feel right to William. These men had no reason to be in Lynese, let alone joining the army.

Aldric’s face was flushed with anger as he watched the recruits being herded into the camp like so many head of livestock.

“Get them situated and see to it that they have adequate food, water, and bedding,” he snapped at Pembroke, a rare edge of anger in his tone, not taking his eyes off the poor devils.

“I’ll see to it, Your Grace,” Pembroke said, looking equally disgusted.

As the baron rode off, Aldric cursed under his breath. “Damned fool’s idea of justice, this.”

William’s head whipped around to his uncle, surprised at the vehemence in his normally calm voice. The older man’s composure had always amazed William. Even on the battlefield, Aldric never rushed, never panicked, always maintaining rigid self-discipline no matter the circumstance.

Still not looking at William, he said, “Mark my words, Edmund’s behind this, sending these men here against their will. It’s foolishness, pure and simple.”

William shifted uncomfortably, not sure how to respond. He wasn’t about to defend his step-father, although he didn’t understand how, or why, Edmund would have sent these poor wretches to war.

“But why send peasants and tradesmen to fight?” he asked, genuinely curious. “What purpose does it serve?”

“It has to do with the new edict the king signed, placing restrictions on travel by the common people between baronies and increasing taxes on those same people in an attempt to extend the crown’s control over the barons, some of whom might see a young king as an opportunity to expand their power. Edmund pushed Gavric for years over what he called ‘the baron problem,’ and it seems now that he has a more... active role in the decisions made by the crown, he plans on focusing on that ‘problem,’“ Aldric said bitterly. “In what should have been a shock to no one, it generated quite a bit of outrage and dissent among the people. And when people are outraged and desperate, they act rashly. The king, or more likely your stepfather, decided the best way to deal with this problem, without creating martyrs for more peasants to rally behind, was to round up the troublemakers and ship them here, to fight in the king’s armies. It allowed him to remove a problem for himself and shift it to me.”

“Why would he want to create problems for you?” William asked. “I know there’s been... issues in your relationship, but you’re still in command of leading the king’s soldiers into war. Doesn’t he know that could affect the outcome?”

Aldric finally turned his horse to face William, away from the camp and commotion.

“Edmund doesn’t believe in this war. He just wants it to end, not caring how that happens,” he said in a calmer voice.

“Why? I thought my stepfather supported the war effort.”

“Publicly he does, but privately he sees it as a waste of resources that distracts from consolidating power at home. I should admit that I was also against this war when Gavric first proposed it. I tried to convince him that invading Lynese was not worth the manpower or cost, but he refused to listen. My brother could be stubborn as an old mule when he set his mind on something,” he said, before pausing, looking off past William to the army again in thought. After several moments, he seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts and back to the moment. “Now that we have men in the field, however, the only thing that makes sense is to finish it. Or at least push far enough that we can sue for reasonable terms from their emperor, which was Gavric’s original objective, anyway.”

“But if he thinks it’s a waste of resources and effort, why would he do something that’s bound to cost more, even if he doesn’t care about winning the war? I know for a fact he cares a great deal about wasting money. Does he hate you that much?”

“It’s not about hate,” Aldric said, and then frowned. “It’s hard to explain and isn’t important right now. What’s important now is that these people are not only useless as soldiers and additional mouths to feed, but they’re going to be angry, causing disruptions among the real soldiers, many of whom will have started hearing the news about what is happening to their families back home. It’s bad for morale.”

“But how do you know all this?” William asked. “I see almost nothing from home distributed among the army.”

“I get dispatches from home,” Aldric replied simply, his expression softening slightly as he saw the confusion in William’s eyes. “While not going so far as to intercept news from home, Pembroke felt it better to let the news trickle in slowly, rather than unbalancing our army as a whole all at once. I’m not sure I agree with him, but since I have no better solution to the problem, I acquiesced. We have bigger problems anyway.”

William waited, but when his uncle didn’t elaborate, he asked, “What problems?”

“The supplies we’ve been getting from home will be decreasing soon, by a significant amount, it seems. The news hasn’t been made official, but a friend at court sent a wyvern that arrived this morning, letting me know it was coming.”

“Not wanting the war or caring if we just ended it now isn’t the same as starving out half the sworn men in the kingdom. How does he expect us to feed everyone if our supplies are cut off?”

“That’s a good question,” Aldric said, before turning his horse and riding away.

William watched him go, frustrated by the entire conversation. He knew there was more going on here than his uncle was saying, more at play, but he didn’t have enough context to know what.

All he did know was that life was going to become very difficult soon. For all of them.

***

Starhaven, Kingdom of Sidor

Edmund’s quarters were an odd blend of lavish opulence and spartan austerity, all at once. Each item had been deliberately chosen for the impression it would leave on the rare few invited into the space. On days when Edmund’s mood was contemplative, he enjoyed looking over the carefully curated surroundings, taking satisfaction in their precision.

This was not one of those days. Edmund barely noticed the quarters around him as he paced back and forth over the plush fur rug, his footsteps etching a path delineating his repeated path.

Instead, his attention was focused on the pockmarked man standing indifferently in front of him. Edmund had to repress the urge to yell at the man, berate him for his lack of proper deference. Besides being counterproductive, he knew the man well enough to know it was pointless.

“We need you to start hiring more men, Colm,” Edmund said, stopping his pacing and turning to face Colm. “Men not assigned to the city guard or even the duchy forces. Men specifically under your direct command, outside of the normal bounds.”

“I can make that happen. What kind of men, exactly, were you wanting?” Colm asked, a slight smirk escaping.

“You know exactly what kind of men I want, Colm,” he said, his lips tightened into a thin line. “Men who can ensure loyalty, men who will follow orders without question. Men who are willing to do the kind of work more… civilized people might find difficult.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Colm said. “I know where to find such men, although loyalty costs extra.”

“I’ll pay it. And I need them soon. The situation is more delicate than I anticipated, and I need to be able to act quickly if necessary.”

“Begging his lordship’s pardon,” Colm said, his tone belying the words he spoke. “But the king’s got all these noble men guarding him with their fancy armor and finery. What does he need with more unsavory men like myself?”

“Because the unrest is growing worse, and I fear it will continue until we can stamp out these malcontents. The city guard and even the duchies forces are valuable, but with what is coming, we will need men more willing to do what must be done. Men whose loyalty I can be more assured of, outside of more traditional obligations.”

“If it’s so bad, why not have your brother killed?” Colm asked.

Edmund froze, his head cocking to one side as he looked at the ‘captain,’ “What do you mean?”

“I heard what you said to the whelp king a few days back. Something about a baron from River Mark’s army being behind the trouble here. I know you told the prince your brother was loyal, but what you meant behind the words was pretty clear. Even the boy heard it.”

“It’s of no consequence,” he said, waving the question away dismissively. “My nephew is still new to the game of politics. He doesn’t yet understand the subtleties of it all. I need a way to weaken the barons overall, but more specifically the barons of the River Mark. Men like Pembroke can possibly upset my future plans, and I need to deal with them while they’re still distracted by the war. The problem is, Aldric swears by his liegemen, and Serwyn holds my brother in an unfortunately high level of esteem. As long as Aldric stands by them, Serwyn won’t listen or do what needs to be done. I need to create distance between my brother and nephew, to get him pointed in the right direction. Which has been the point of nearly everything we’ve done since my nephew became king.”

“Whatever, it’s none of my business anyway.” Colm shrugged, clearly losing interest before Edmund even finished speaking.

That is one of the things Edmund liked best about the captain. He cared little for politics. As long as he got paid and had opportunities to indulge in his more violent predilections, the man was happy to go where he was sent.

“How long will it take you to get the men?”

“I’ll need to be away from the capital for a few days to start collecting them,” Colm replied. “Maybe two weeks to get enough. What do you want done with them once I have them?”

“House them in the city proper, not in the palace or any of the official grounds,” Edmund said, his voice firm. “I’m not sure what role they’ll play exactly yet, but I want them available when I’ve figured it out. I’ll pay them all the same.”

Colm smirked and gave a mockery of a salute, “As you wish, my lord.”

Without being dismissed, he turned and walked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Edmund couldn’t help but shake his head in slight disgust. The man had no subtlety to him at all. While that was useful, it did make him stand out here at the palace.

Edmund gave one last look at the closed door, thinking through his plans further, moving the pieces of the great board around in his head, before returning to his desk against the far wall, overlooking the city below.

While not exactly going to plan, things were still advancing in the right direction. But it was a delicate thing, and needed proper tending, if he was going to achieve his goals.