Chapter 9: A Capital in Conflict

Elena watched the group of Serratian priests enter the castle’s courtyard and she closed her eyes for a moment.

There had been rumors of a rogue sect heading toward the capital but no confirmation. There hadn’t been mass killings or thefts. They had kept to the lightly traveled roads and provided their own stores. The reports had been of areas where a large group had camped – and of telltale signs that it was a group of Serratians who had been there.

A small group of men broke away from the main body and strode to where Elena stood. Her phalanx of security immediately surrounded the men, who wore swords but no armor.

“I demand to speak to the steward!” a portly man yelled.

“No one approaches the steward while under arms,” the guard commander informed him.

“I am a Priest of Serrat!” the man spoke loudly. “You will address me as Father Vergill.”

“Father Vermin is it?” the commander asked. “Well, Father, no one approaches the steward while under arms. If you will kindly deposit your weapons at the guard house outside the castle walls, you may await your turn like the rest of Azkoval’s citizens.”

“I will not,” the man said. The sound of 10 swords coming out of their sheaths caused every eye to turn to the guards surrounding the priests.

“You have committed a capital crime by bringing your weapons into the castle,” the commander stated in a flat voice. “There are signs at the city walls, at the castle’s outer walls and immediately outside of the door you just entered. I will assume you cannot read and give you the opportunity to comply with the law. If you do not, every man with a sword, dagger, crossbow or sharp stick on his person will be killed immediately and without hesitation. Have I made myself clear?”

The priest’s face had turned an interesting shade of red but the guard continued to stare into the man’s eyes.

“You have made yourself perfectly clear,” the priest said, his face turning even redder. “You have made it clear that King Joseph is an enemy of the Serrats and all who hold our beliefs sacred.”

“And I believe the King has made it clear that he is not someone you want as an enemy,” Elena said. “If you comply with the laws of the land no harm will come to you. The only thing King Joseph has ensured is that all men and women live by the same rules. You do not get a dispensation because of what sect you preach. Now if you wish to speak to me, follow the commander’s orders: Leave your weapons with the guards and stand in line like everyone else has to do. If you no longer wish to speak to me, simply depart and things will be at an end. But do not expect privileges from me or from King Joseph.”

Elena returned to her seat and motioned the next supplicant forward. She divided her attention between the man’s problem and the Serratian priests. She knew she needed to tread a fine line. The Serratians had many followers, particularly among the people Joseph most wanted to help: the poor and downtrodden.

But Joseph had been adamant that the Serratians were not exempt from the law. The sect’s leader, the bishop, had helped to orchestrate The Fall and Wilhelm had made Serrat the country’s official religion not long after his accession. Joseph had rescinded that proclamation immediately upon taking the throne. Azkoval would have no state-sponsored religion. He had abolished compulsory church attendance and had forbidden the church from collecting taxes from the citizens.

Further, he had assessed taxes on land that had been exempt for a decade – the land owned by the church and its leaders. The upper hierarchy of the church had grown fat while eating from Wilhelm’s hand. Joseph declared it was past time for them to trim their coffers as well as their waistlines.

Many devoted Serratians were outraged, particularly the priests. Joseph had done his best to explain that it was not his intention to keep anyone from practicing the religion if he or she chose. His sole goal was keep people from being forced to worship – and from being forced to support any religious group.

New religious organizations sprang up during the first year of his reign. Some were sects that had been in hiding for a decade and some came from other cultures. The rules that applied to the Serratians applied to every non-secular group. He did not play favorites. The rules hit the Serratian leaders where it hurt the most – in their wallets. Church attendance dwindled and so did collections. The church had to pay more in taxes than it took in from its parishioners and that cut into the priest’s substantial wealth.

Then the bishop had been arrested and imprisoned, along with five conspirators and 30 men-at-arms they had hired to storm the castle and retake power. The man had been held incommunicado since his arrest. A few people had sought an audience with him and had been denied. This was the first time another priest had appeared, though.

Some of the citizens grumbled to themselves when the priests departed. For many, it was ingrained that the clerics had unlimited power and access. Many of the ordinary people thought nothing of the fact that Father Vergill had pushed his way past them to the front of the line. It was to be expected and tolerated, lest anyone who protested find himself at odds with the church. Now the devoted followers of Serrat were stunned to see their emissaries turned away, forced to comply with the same set of rules as everyone else.

Others in the crowd chuckled to themselves. Like the powerful noblemen, the church had abused its power in the previous decade. Land was stolen from freeholders if the church decided they wanted it. They had compelled every citizen of Azkoval to pay a yearly tax. Every Saturday morning and Sunday afternoon had been devoted to public worship. A family was expected to educate their children from the Serratian text. Anyone found in violation of any of the church’s innumerable rules was punished by a fine, a public flogging or, in many cases, execution for heresy.

As with King Wilhelm’s Justice, there were no trials and no appeal. If the clergy said you were guilty then it was fact. Many men had found themselves tried by the church and punished only to be tried again by the Crown when the church punishment was concluded.

Elena’s morning dissolved into chaos when a few devout Serrations took umbrage at disparaging remarks from others awaiting a hearing. Fistfights broke out and soon evolved into a full-scale melee. It took three detachments from the Azkoval Defense Battalion to restore order. The soldiers had waded into the fray swinging wooden practice swords. After a few broken arms and bloodied heads, the sides separated.

But Elena knew full well that the presence of a Serration delegation in Tyrell would lead to more violence before things calmed down.

Matthew Wellington was bound, gagged and sitting in a corner when Joseph and Alexander returned. Genrico didn’t want the man to say something that would lead to an awkward discussion with Jonathan Burbridge.

The man’s eyes almost popped out of his head when his twin daughters came in and sat down at the table in the seats vacated by the king and Alexander Burbridge. Julia noticed her father’s distress almost immediately and offered him a smirk.

“We have been in contact with King Joseph for almost a week,” she announced. “You should count yourself lucky that we didn’t dispatch you last night like we did your Creighton protectors. Victoria and I slit their throats. The wolves will eat well this week, I believe.”

Matthew suddenly wondered where his security team was and started to look around.

“I told you the former Caliph died,” Julia pushed. “Have you been introduced to the new one? In case you haven’t, this is Osid ben Surkta. He will be crowned in a few months. You must have promised your guards something very impressive because they refused to leave your side. Instead, you left them for your daughters to kill. It was a pleasure, although I must say but I would have preferred to slit your throat instead.”

Matthew said something but the only thing Julia heard was the word “betrayed.”

She spring from her seat and grabbed the nearest weapon she could find: a blunt knife used for spreading butter and jam on bread. She leaped on the table and screamed at her father.

“Betrayed?” she bellowed. “We are not the one who sold your virtue to a foreign noble! Don’t you dare compare what we did to a betrayal.”

Her jump at her father was cut short when a powerful arm snared her around the waist. She was about to jam the knife she carried into the person’s side or hip when Joseph whispered in her ear.

“We don’t want blood in the manor house,” he said in a light voice. “I believe it was your idea to take him to the woods to dispatch him. Have you changed your mind?”

It took all of Julia’s will to keep from lashing out at the king. He held her around her waist, her feet nowhere near the floor. She closed her eyes for a moment and then nodded. She turned to apologize when her feet hit the floor but found Joseph smiling at her.

“I wanted to do the same thing when I heard of his plans for you and Victoria,” he said softly. “Do not fret about your actions. I understand the need for vengeance.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Julia said with genuine contriteness. “I really don’t want to have to clean blood off the floor for the next occupant of this house.”

“Your Majesty, if you wish, I will take the traitor outside and dispatch him now,” Jonathan offered.

“We have had several people volunteer for that duty already,” Joseph replied, offering another smile in the man’s direction. “I believe Lord Larchman has already tasked a group with that endeavor. I do thank you for the offer.”

Jonathan stared at Joseph for a moment before nodding. Joseph sat down next to him and leaned near to him.

“You are second in command of the main army,” he whispered. “That is a job for other people.”

“I understand,” Jonathan whispered back.

“If you will permit it, King Joseph, I am willing to supervise the execution of the traitor and see to the disposition of the body,” Alexander said without taking his eyes off the prisoner. Wellington did his best to stare back in defiance but it difficult to do with a rag stuffed in his mouth.

“That will be satisfactory, Lord Burbridge,” Joseph replied. He would not deny the man that little bit of retribution. “Thank you, my friend, for taking on that onerous task.”

Alexander offered Joseph a grateful smile. Joseph gestured to the men from the other holdings that had accompanied him into the manor. They grabbed Wellington beneath his arms and dragged him from what was once his home.

Alexander Burbridge followed them out.

“You’re a fighter,” Jonathan said to Julia when the front door closed. “You remind me of my sister, Elizabeth.”

“You have a sister?” Victoria asked, the worry evident in her voice.

“And she is a handful,” Jonathan said. He either didn’t hear the tone of Victoria’s voice or he ignored it. “I would hate to see what would happen if my sister and your sister joined sides. I already dread telling her about our mother. They were very close.”

Joseph had forgotten about the youngest Burbridge child. He had seen her but rarely since his return to Azkoval. She had seemed shy and withdrawn to him, nothing like Jonathan had described her.

“Julia and Victoria, will you introduce me to your mother?” Joseph asked.

The three departed leaving the rest of the men to discuss the tasks that remained before the armies could leave for home.

Amelia Wellington had walked through the dining room but she hadn’t even batted an eye at the group of men at her table. Joseph had thought she was another servant. Now that he got a closer look at her he saw the resemblance to her children.

“What does Elizabeth Burbridge look like?” Julia asked in a low voice.

“I have only met her a few times,” Joseph admitted. “I seem to recall she favors her mother.”

“Do you think... ?” Victoria inquired, letting the gist of the question go unstated.

“I have no idea,” Joseph told them.

“How old is she?” Amelia asked. She knew what the conversation entailed.

“I would suppose she is 13 or 14 years,” Joseph told her. “She is that indeterminate age between 12 and 16. She has started to grow into her features but she is not mature.”

“I will be able to tell when I see her,” Amelia said with resignation. “It is well that Julia invented the ruse about common ancestry. I watched from the kitchen. I know Lord Burbridge sees things as they are but I don’t think the young man does.”

“It helped that the prisoner was a mess,” Victoria added. “That is one of the reasons I suggested King Joseph and his group be here when he first came down. If he had dressed and combed his hair, I think everyone would have caught on.”

“You have raised two very good children,” Joseph told Amelia. “Their efforts saved countless lives – not just by helping us to avoid a battle but with their compassion to people they barely know. I am eternally grateful to them and Azkoval owes them a great debt.”

Victoria didn’t think it was possible but her sister actually blushed at the praise. Amelia smiled at the king.

“Do you remember me at all, King Joseph?” she asked.

“I must confess you look familiar to me but I thought it was because your lovely daughters favor you so much,” Joseph admitted. “We have met before?”

“Oh, many times, Your Highness,” Amelia said, her smile widening.

“Please, I am just Joseph,” he offered. “How do I know you?”

“Lord Trimble was my older brother,” Amelia told him, the sadness in her voice still evident a decade after the man’s murder.

“He was a very good man,” Joseph replied. “I remember him very fondly. How did you come to be here?”

“I was a rebellious child,” Amelia admitted. “This was the lone match my brother could make for me. I fear the same will be true for Julia. She is a lot like I was when I was her age.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Joseph told her. “By the time the army gets back to Tyrell, people will be singing the praises of your brave and ingenious daughters. I will be singing them loudest of all.”