Chapter Ten: A Friendly Overture
Tranith Argan: Book 3
Felanar continues his discussions with the autarch.
The next couple of days were spent recovering from their ordeal. The autarch saw to it they had the food each desired, and it was quite delicious and bountiful. Otherwise he let them rest and talk privately. Then one morning he sent for Felanar, though Kara joined her brother despite not being invited. The two of them entered the throne room to see the autarch talking to people who had approached the throne asking for the autarch’s help. Namonikkar gestured for Felanar to sit on a chair that had been set up to the autarch’s right, and seeing Kara he ordered a guard to bring another chair for her.
“Thank you for joining me,” he said. “Please make yourself comfortable while I attend to matters of state.” With that he returned his attention to the people before him.
As Felanar settled in his chair he saw that the supplicants consisted of two men who were kneeling before the throne. They were dressed as members of a trade guild, for they each bore the same green tunic with distinctive markings, but which guild this was escaped Felanar’s understanding. They were arguing with each other, it seemed, over some business matter that had spilled over into enough of a fuss among their workers that production was being affected. Namonikkar listened dispassionately as each told his side of the story, ignoring the vigorous shaking of the head of the other one listening as each took turns. When they were done, Namonikkar sat back in his throne and offered his judgment.
“I find in your favor,” he gestured to the man kneeling to his left, “and order you,” he pointed to his right, “to paid compensation of five gold coins.”
The two arguing men said nothing and bowed their heads at these words, and then stood up and edged backward toward the door until they had passed the guards and left the room, never once having turned their backs on their ruler. Namonikkar turned to Felanar and Kara and his face brightened into a smile.
“I enjoy this part of ruling very much,” he said.
The guards next led a woman into the room. They escorted her to a spot before the throne and stood there with her, unlike how it had been done with the man. The woman was dressed poorly and looked haggard, though Felanar and Kara could not get a clear look at her face since she held it down and with her eyes fixed on the floor. The autarch gestured to one of the guards who leaned into the woman’s face and said something too softly to be heard by Felanar. The woman, never moving her head, softly said something back.
“Your holy eminence,” began the guard as he turned back to face the autarch, “this shopkeeper apologizes for her approach and assures that she has contacted the local magistrate with her complaint and would not be here if she had gotten a fair hearing. Those were her words, your eminence.”
The autarch nodded and gestured for the guard to continue. He went back to whispering with the woman who grew quite animated, though she never moved her head as she spoke. The guard continued her story.
“She claims to have been cheated by a member of the royal guard, your eminence. She says she sold him a piece of fruit when he walked past her shop, but she says he did not pay. She says that when she complained to the guard, he grew angry and tipped her cart over in the street, causing her to lose some of her produce when kids in the street ran up and grabbed some. She says she told her local magistrate but he would not take her word over that of a guard, a guard who could not be found.”
“Do you swear to all you have said here today?” boomed the autarch in a sudden use of a royal tone. The woman trembled and collapsed to the ground, her straggly hair spread over the floor. She was sobbing, but in between heaves of breath she said, “I swear, holy one!” Then realizing what she had done, she wailed louder and then whispered something that Felanar could not hear. The guard nearest her turned to the autarch and said, “She humbly asks your forgiveness for her impertinence.”
Namonikkar’s voice grew softer. “Then please rise before me and accept recompense from my hand, and know that it comes from the One above who looks out for us all and who speaks through me in order to protect and defend even the least of His creatures.”
At another gesture from the autarch, a guard stepped forward and deposited a single gold coin into the woman’s dirty hand. Her fist tightened over it and she sobbed a thank you before being escorted away by the guards. At no time did her eyes ever look up.
The guards informed Namonikkar that there were no more supplicants this day. He gestured for them to leave and turned toward his visitors.
“How are you both today? Rested and fed, I presume?” His face showed no indication that what had just transpired in the throne room was unusual in any way. His eyes seemed bright and his smile genuine.
“Yes, thank you,” said Felanar quietly. “We have been well cared for.”
“What was the meaning of that woman’s actions?” asked Kara.
Namonikkar turned his head slightly to address Kara, but his face otherwise remained unchanged and uncaring.
“This is a weekly event for me,” he answered. “Do you not have such moments of supplication from your subjects, Felanar?”
“Not in such a degrading manner,” responded Kara.
“Kara!” Felanar turned to his sister with a look of reproach.
“Well? Is it not degrading? Do you not see it too?”
Felanar glared at Kara but said nothing until the autarch responded.
“There is nothing degrading in hearing one’s subjects plea for help. I do not understand why you find it so, woman.”
“She never faced you,” explained Kara, “and she lay herself on the floor in front of you.”
“This was her choice, and is a natural response to facing someone in such a high position,” said Namonikkar calmly. “I did not force her to act this way.”
“You would have, if she hadn’t volunteered it,” said Kara.
“She called you ‘holy one,’” said Felanar, to change the subject.
“Yes,” said the autarch, turning back to Felanar.
“What did she mean by this?” asked Felanar. “Does she think you are a god?”
“Yes,” said the autarch.
“Why?” asked Kara.
“I am the hereditary heir of the ancestors of old, generation through generation, descendant of those who came before unto the first generation of men who came down from above.”
“These people worship you!” said Felanar, his eyes widening. “That is why they bow before you like that.”
“Of course,” said the autarch with his palms outstretched. “Why do you think I never have to fear a rebellion such as toppled you? These people appreciate that everything in their lives is looked over by a Power greater than them, by One who knows their needs and can foresee the future. One who guides His people to prosperity.”
“Is this what you believe?” asked Kara scornfully.
“Am I am not the descendant of those who came before me?” responded the autarch with a trace of irritation.
“A statement that could be made by any creature in the world,” Kara said to herself.
“Excuse my sister, autarch,” said Felanar, “for being upset when she is reminded of our betrayal in Tranith Argan.”
“And you do not get upset?” asked Kara.
“Yes, Kara, I do, but we are here at Namonikkar’s invitation today, and it would be rude not to hear what he wants to talk about.”
“Thank you, Felanar,” said the autarch. “I do indeed wish to discuss matters of state with you. I invited you alone, but I suppose it does not cause any harm to have your sister with you. This is not our way, but I can accept it is the Argan way and overlook it.”
“What is the Tri-city way then,” asked Kara, “to have women be subservient and silent?”
“Kara!” hushed Felanar. “Let him talk. Show respect for foreign ways and customs that do not affect us. If the autarch visited us in Tranith Argan, would you want him lecturing us on our way of ruling?”
Kara said nothing.
“Since you are both involved in the ruling of your land,” said Namonikkar, “it may interest you to know that I have news of your land, and of your throne. It can be to our mutual interest to help you return to your throne, and to create a pact between our lands for our benefit.”
“What have you heard?” asked Felanar eagerly.
“That the pathway of return to your throne is an open one, O king. My informants tell me of the doings of the throne of Tranith Argan.”
“Ravesfel is ruling?” asked Felanar.
“The guardian – if such a word can be used – of your throne does indeed rule, but uneasily and without much support among the peoples of your land.”
“How do you know of such things?” asked Kara warily. “I thought you said you were neutral to eastern lands.”
“So I said and so I meant, young queen,” said the autarch. “I have no quarrel with your people. Yet it behooves me to know as much of your lands as may be found through loyal listeners – no, do not worry, for I see on your face another accusation ready to burst forth – those loyal to me are not among your staff. They are not interfering with your rule in any way. They are sent from here, they lie low, they listen, they report, nothing more. A prudent ruler would do no less for knowledge is key to power, is it not? I believe you send out spies at your need, do you not, Felanar?”
“Yes,” he responded, “of course. So what are you suggesting about my throne?”
“That your guardian holds it weakly, the people are dissatisfied, they are distraught at the news of your death, and would welcome your return.”
“That I am not so sure of,” said Felanar quietly. “I led the troops to an ignominious defeat. They might not be so proud of me now.”
“Nonsense,” responded Namonikkar as he reached for his flask to take a drink, and he gestured to see if either of his guests wished for something too. “Your people will go from grief to rejoicing at your return. A ruler is a guide to the masses, a light in dark places, and hope for something better in their lives. Have you not realized how long it had been since they had a king on the throne, and how suddenly they lost the one they found? Your losses on the battlefield will pale compared to the hope that your return will promise. Trust me, an experienced ruler. The people want a king. They want someone to rule over their lives and you must act as such, never showing weakness or hesitation or self-doubt. If you have a reversal on the battlefield, show even more confidence that your next attempt will be glorious. If you act the ruler, you will be the ruler. If you act the weakling, you will be thrown off your throne and with good reason.”
“Thank you for such advice, autarch,” said Felanar. “A pact between our peoples would go a long way toward restoring the power on Argan. Had it not been for your army, we could have won the day on the battle field.”
Namonikkar shook his head. “There you have been misinformed, I’m afraid.”
“What do you mean?”
“When word came from Vélakk that his land was being invaded, I answered because it seemed an unjustified invasion by your people and the elves. We responded quickly, despite thinking that we might at best be able to deal with an entrenched and victorious army in full control of a foreign land. In other words, we thought we would arrive too late. To our surprise, when we landed we realized we had reached the island the same time you had. Vélakk had lied to me. He told me he was under attack weeks before you actually set sail.”
“Spies!” cried Felanar.
“Yes, O king, Vélakk is known for his network of informants, and unlike the men I send, his will gladly embed themselves within the staff of rulers. So it seems that he knew of your plans and sent for me ahead of time. But even had we not arrived that day, you would have lost.”
“But we were winning until your men and the dragons showed up.”
“You thought you were winning,” said Namonikkar. “That is what he wanted you to think. He sent out only a token force, a small group from his army. Trust me, he had far greater forces awaiting you. Once my commanders informed me of the battle later, I realized he had used me unnecessarily. We were not needed to protect his land. His troops could have handled any you commanded that day.”
“Then what was his plan?” asked Felanar.
“To lure you in, I think,” said the autarch. “To capture you and kill you, in all likelihood. If he could damage the might of Argan at the same time, all the better. It would lead to his army taking over Argan at last.”
“That would never have happened,” objected Felanar. “He tried to invade us and failed.”
“Ah yes, the attempted invasion of Tranith Argan. I heard reports from that battle, and I can assure you that he sent only a small part of his army, a force meant to fail, to embolden you into attacking him.”
“Did I not say it was so?” cried Kara to her brother.
“Yes,” said Felanar, shaking his head slowly, “yes you did, but I did not listen.”
“He wanted you to invade,” continued the autarch, “so that he could finally kill you. You fell for his trap.”
“And you helped lay the trap,” accused Kara angrily.
“Again, O queen,” said Namonikkar, “it was done honestly and without affection for Vélakk. I do not support his rule, that is certain, but I do not sit back when a land is being invaded without justification and I get a call for help. From the request I got, things were not as they ultimately turned out to be. I was fooled even as you were.”
“So much for your spies,” said Kara.
“Spies cannot know everything,” acknowledged the autarch.
“So you are not an ally of Vélakk?” asked Felanar.
“I give you my word, I am not.”
“And you would enter into a pact with me?” asked the king.
“It would be my preference,” said Namonikkar. “Now that I am coming to know you in person, I think you are a ruler with whom a bond of trust can be created. You have an open and honest personality, Felanar. It is written on your face. Such can never be said of Vélakk. It would be far better for us to help each other, than for either of us to face him alone.”
“Does he threaten you?” asked Felanar.
“Not as such,” said Namonikkar, “for I am strong and far away from his land. But I do not deceive myself into thinking I need never fear him, for if he succeeds in conquering all of the eastern lands, as is his wish, there would then only be the western lands to stand in his way. I think you can see that it would be in my best interest for that not to happen.”
“I agree,” said Felanar.
“Excellent,” replied Namonikkar jovially. “It was truly a fortuitous event which brought us together and thus our lands closer together. Now if I can only win the trust of your elf and dwarf friends, this will be a time that will mean peace for all our lands. Now if you will excuse me, I do need to care for some other state business which you would find boring. May I suggest you enjoy a lunch prepared for you and then we shall meet again later on?”
“I look forward to it,” said Felanar as he rose from his seat.