Chapter Eleven: On the Proper Way to Rule

Tranith Argan: Book 3

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Can the autarch be trusted?

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Kara said nothing but followed her brother as he exited the throne room. Back in their room the door was barely closed before she broke her silence.

“How can you take this man at his word?” she cried out, her face anguished.

“I do not take him at his word, Kara!” sighed Felanar. “I thought you were very rude in there. We are his guests –”

“Prisoners,” interrupted Kara.

“Guests!” Felanar repeated louder. “As such we owe him the politeness deserved of a ruler.”

“You like what you saw today, did you?” asked Kara.

“No,” said Felanar more softly, “I do not mean that everything he does is right, no. But I have been long thinking of the right way to rule a kingdom. It is certain that neither of us has the experience to do it right, so it is fascinating to see how it is done in various lands. I can learn from the experience of others who know what they are doing.”

“And you feel he knows what he is doing?”

“He has experience, certainly, Kara. He has a land that runs smoothly from what I have observed. It seems hard to believe anyone in this land would dare to overthrow his rule.”

“Don’t be so sure of that, brother. As I read from my books, those who rule with an iron hand often find it difficult to grasp power tightly.”

“Kara, I trust your judgment, but you have to admit that every time someone provides advice or an example of how to rule, your first reaction is to reject it out of hand. How can I learn from others if I am forever to ignore what they say, if I were to listen to you?”

“That is unfair of you!” objected Kara. “I have not said anything against Llarand when you met with him to discuss strategy.”

“He is the only one you do not object to,” said Felanar.

“When have others proved to be right?” responded Kara.

“I suppose you think yourself to be in the right all the time?”

“No, certainly not,” said Kara, throwing up her arms in exasperation. “Now you’re just being stubborn. All I’m trying to do is help you avoid entanglement with those who mean you harm.”

“And what gives you the ability to see what I cannot?” said Felanar as he stood up and began pacing.

“I have none but my own sense,” said Kara.

“Then let me listen to the voice of reason when it is given to me.”

“Do you see reason in the ways of the autarch?” asked Kara.

“I see some things from which I can draw lessons, yes.”

“Then you are a fool.”

“Kara!”

“Do not trust him, Felanar. Ravesfel told us the truth about him, and I won’t let smooth words convince me that the guardian was lying about that.”

“You of all people should think twice about anything Ravesfel said. If you had learned that lesson earlier we might have a throne still.”

Kara’s face reddened, but she said nothing. Instead she marched out of the room and slammed the door behind her. Felanar watched her leave and said nothing, but inside he felt a mixture of anger and shame for what he had said. Mostly anger.

Kara walked into Alessa’s room where the elf was standing by a window and staring out at the city. The elf turned at Kara’s approach and her smile turned down as she caught the anger in Kara’s face.

“What is the matter?” asked Alessa. Kara stood before her now and tears were welling in her eyes.

“Did you hear what Felanar said?”

“No, Kara, your room is far enough away that not even I can hear your conversation.”

“He is a fool, but so am I for saying so. Now he is mad at me and I am mad at me and him. It is a mess!”

“Felanar is not a fool, Kara. He is sensible from my experience.”

“You are inexperienced, my friend,” said Kara sighing. “The twisting ways of rulers has never been your concern in Elaria. Trust me, Felanar is walking into a trap.”

“Then we must help him!” cried Alessa. “Tell me what has happened and I will talk to Felanar.”

“He’ll listen to you,” said Kara, smiling through her tears.

Alessa did not respond to that.

Kara explained the morning’s events to Alessa and described her fears about Namonikkar.

Alessa, who had widened her eyes at the description of the woman before the throne, but otherwise had remained silent during Kara’s words, now shook her head slowly.

“This seems to be the western way,” she said, “to have the man above the woman. I cannot say I am a stranger to this thought for my father also treats Dalonír and I differently, and my mother has little to do with matters of importance in our realm. But this degradation, this deference of women to men in all things, this is something I have not experienced, seen, or can defend.”

“That is not my main concern,” said Kara. “Mostly I worry about what the autarch really has planned for us. Don’t you get the feeling that we are prisoners in intention if not yet in deed?”

“No,” said Alessa, “I have not felt that way. Why do you think so?”

“It’s just a feeling I have, that if we tried to leave the autarch would come up with a perfectly valid excuse to keep us here. It would sound logical and normal, it would make sense to the listener, but the end result would be that we would yet again stay in this palace. That is what I mean. We may be in a place of luxury and treated well, but a cage that is gilded is yet as effective in taking away freedom. I just want to get out of here and go home.”

“I yearn to be home as well,” said Alessa. “I’ll talk to Felanar about leaving soon and then we will see if your gilded cage has a door that is unlocked.”

“Thank you, Alessa.”

Meanwhile Felanar had decided to talk with Dolen about his anger and shame, and he found the dwarf sitting in his room looking bored. Dolen greeted Felanar and let him explain about the argument he had with Kara, and then he thought for a few minutes with his head down.

“I do not give this man my trust,” Dolen finally said, looking up at Felanar. “You have related his explanation for his troops’ behavior at the battlefield, but it does not explain the death of my father or my countrymen. We were no threat to him. I agree with your sister, Felanar. This man speaks with smoothness, but his words are not sweet to me.”

“I do not trust him,” said Felanar, “but I admire how his subjects look up to him. I can learn some lessons from this ruler.”

“Now that you have learned some lessons, let us return to our homes,” pleaded the dwarf. “My people need my return.”

“Yes,” said Felanar, “you’re right, and you’ve been very patient. Give me just another couple of days and I will tell the autarch that we need to wrap up our business and be on our way.”

“Thank you, Felanar.”

A couple of days passed during which Felanar and Namonikkar discussed various matters of state, and also during which the autarch initiated discussions with Alessa and Dolen, though those were awkward and with little result. Toward dinner time on the third day after Felanar promised Dolen they would leave soon, Felanar was summoned by the guards to meet with the autarch. Felanar was led to a small room adjacent to the throne room where Namonikkar was staring at a parchment on which had been written many words in ornate script. He looked up as Felanar was shown into the room and broke into a smile.

“Please, have a seat my new friend,” he said gesturing toward a chair. “You are just in time to sign a treaty I had written after our conversation earlier. This is a chance for our respective lands to enter into a time of trust and peace. Please, read the document and see that it is to your liking.”

He handed the parchment to Felanar who took it and held it gingerly. He scrolled to the top and read the beautifully decorated writing, thinking how much more official this document looked than the ones he signed in Argan. The top of the document announced this was a treaty between the Tri-Cities of Polandolar, Granth, Jakkar and the Tranith cities of the Eastern Lands. The three free Tranith cities of Argan, Toar and Heron were named along with the duchy of Irular Istan. Many flowery words followed as a very fluffy introduction meandered over the descriptions of western and eastern lands. A section followed that talked about a common enemy, and explicitly named Vélakk as a ruler to be opposed by both lands. Cooperation was named on various levels, including agricultural and cultural sharing between the lands. Free travel was to be granted to citizens of both lands, with the assurance of safe conduct throughout all realms under control of the cities named in the document.

Through it all Felanar admired the language used and wondered if Namonikkar wrote it himself, with the aid of a scribe, or if he had someone whose duties included writing such documents as the occasion called for it. Felanar felt intimidated by the precision of the language in some sections. So intimidated that he almost let it go by when he found a passage that struck him as unusual. He re-read that section several times and felt reluctant to mention anything that could potentially cause a part of this beautiful scroll to be altered in any way. But he finally cleared his throat and explained his objection.

“Autarch,” he began hesitantly.

“I tried to think of everything that could apply,” responded Namonikkar, “but I gladly listen to anything you suggest.”

“It’s only the section talking about the resolution of conflict between our nations.”

“Yes?”

“It indicates that in any disagreement that Argan is to be subject to you.”

“This is not something to worry about, Felanar,” said the autarch soothingly. “I have a system of administration that works exceedingly well in keeping the various magistrates of my realm in harmony. This treaty merely accords the benefit of my system into your land. I doubt it will ever be applied, for as you can see we get along quite well. Any disagreements can easily be worked out with an exchange of messages. I am a reasonable man, and I can now say the same of you.”

“This treaty is in perpetuity, though,” said Felanar, with a feeling of discomfort rising inside him. Kara’s face intruded into his thoughts.

“Yes, that is so,” agreed the autarch.

“We may not always be able to agree on an issue. When that happens, this says I am to become subject to your will. We have to change this section to take this out and leave it as a more neutral cooperation between equal nations.”

“Ah, I see your concern, Felanar. Please do understand that nothing harmful is meant. Please realize the position I am in. My people look up to me as a god. Can it be that a god ever is to subject himself to a mere man? Can a god even be said to be equal to a man? This would be shattering to my people if I were to cede any such power to another. They believe in my supremacy, and I will not take that away from them. No, this section needs to be in any treaty I write, but I assure you it is there for the sake of the people alone. You never need to fear it being applied in a punitive manner against you. Have I not shown I am not that type of ruler?”

“Do you think you are a god?” asked Felanar tentatively.

Namonikkar burst out laughing, a deep rumble of mirth.

“Of course I do not!” he finally said.

“But you said the people believe that of you.”

“Yes, naturally, that is always the way with the rule of the autarchy. It is how the people are maintained in order.”

“You use this merely as a ruse to keep them in line?” asked Felanar in horror.

“Does it not work?” said Namonikkar, smiling and opening his palms.

“But this is immoral!”

“Would you rather I leave myself open to being overthrown?” the autarch said slyly. “My people live in a near desert. Their lives are hard here. There are dangers on the eastern frontier from the elves. To our north lie the saarks. We know poverty in this land. Many of my people lead bleak existences. What I give them is a hope for something better when they die. I give them hope that the next world will be one of abundance and rest. When I speak to them, they hear it as the message from the next world. I would not take this hope away from them for it may be all they have to sustain themselves in their lives of trouble.”

“This is wrong, autarch. You lie to your people. Even if your motive is sound, your methods are wrong.”

“This is not for you to say, young king. You are not yet experienced in the ways of power, and already it has overtaken you unawares. Now I offer you a real gift, a chance to consolidate power and to remain in power. You will need help in regaining the throne, even though I told you it is ripe for your return. Your guardian will need some persuading, and having my army at your call in a mutual assistance pact will give your claim teeth. Teeth you do not yet possess. Let us join together even though our realms will be separate. You may rule your way and I may rule in the way I see fit.”

“But we will not be separate according to this treaty,” objected Felanar. “According to this I will constantly be under the threat of your subjugation. I cannot sign away my freedom in such a way. The section needs to be rewritten, or I cannot sign.”

“Don’t be a fool!” yelled Namonikkar. “I have assured you of my intentions. You need my help.”

“I may not be experienced,” said Felanar calmly, “but I have learned a few things, including not to accept mere intentions. I cannot sign.”

“I have explained my needs to keep my people expectations intact,” said the autarch more quietly. “They cannot think that another ruler is my equal.”

“Then I cannot sign.”

The autarch was silent for a long while, staring at the ground with furrowed brow. Felanar was beginning to wonder if he would say anything when the autarch finally raised his head again and stared directly into Felanar’s eyes.

“I will not let such an opportunity go to waste. If you will not sign, I will seek advantage in other ways of benefit to my people. I would have us join forces, but if you cannot do so, there is another who could be convinced to give me what I need.”

“What do you mean?” asked Felanar with rising concern.

“I am practical ruler, young king. I seek what is best for my people. If it were up to me, I would seek this through you. If it is not to be, I cannot ignore the other benefits that come from having you appear here.”

“What do you intend to do?”

“Notify Vélakk that I have his prisoner in my custody and no doubt collect a handsome reward and much goodwill toward my land. It may not be what I want, but it will be better than having you walk away with nothing of advantage for my people.”

“You wouldn’t do such a thing!” cried Felanar, half rising from his chair in alarm. “You cannot keep us here against our will!”

“You have much to learn, young king,” said Namonikkar coldly. “A ruler must do what is best for his rule. Personal preferences are not the deciding factor. Power is cold, and decisions must be made coldly. Sign this treaty and you may walk out of here freely with an escort back to your land for safety. But if you will not, I must take what I can get in such circumstances as I find myself. Vélakk will be furious if I sign a pact with you, but I take that chance since our combined power base can drive him from this world. Without that alliance, however, I know that Vélakk will be most pleased with me to learn I have captured you. There is nothing personal in either event, merely a chance for me to do what is right for my people. Choose well, young king, for I am prepared to take either course of action.”

Felanar swallowed deeply and said quietly, “I will not sign.”

“Then you are now my prisoner.”