Chapter 7: The Uprising

It was five months after Javila had been raised to Queen and Macro had become Prince Royal. His work had not become less because of this. In addition to his duties as Vice-regent of Tanitsar, he had to fill in for the ageing King frequently, in particular when the duty involved dealings with the public or long travel.

Odar wanted his son and successor to bond with the citizens and the common soldiery of the realm. Macro would never be welcomed by the nobility. His power base had to be the yeomen, the merchants, the army, and – although this was not discussed openly – the freed slaves of whom there were thousands already.

Thus, Macro spent many days touring the garrisons. He inspected the living quarters of the common soldiers, he joined them on exercises, slept with them under the open skies, and he listened to their complaints.

He saw to it that the Royal Archers, his old troop, were fitted with new cross-bows instead of the old longbows. They had long complained that their arrows were no match for the heavy body armour worn by knights. There was also the issue of ailments associated with the long-term use of the longbow which required brute strength from its archers. Macro also saw to it that their garrison was moved closer to the Capital.

The Lancers too received frequent inspections from the Prince. He resolved one of their long-standing complaints, this time about their foot wear. Sandals were the norm for soldiers, being light and giving good aeration to the feet on long marches. The Lancers, though, planted the butt end of their lances against their feet when awaiting a charge, and this often caused foot injury. Therefore, closed shoes with reinforced insides were fashioned for their use.

He spent time at the army academy which was led by his old brother-in-arms, Ronan. He mingled with the cadets, sparred with them, and participated in the teaching. He talked Ronan into forming a regular troop out of the cadets, with subaltern officers selected from their own ranks. Many of the young cadets were the sons and daughters of slave women, sired by their masters and freed upon their coming of age. These youngsters saw Macro as embodiment of their own dreams.

Anais, Ronan's daughter, was also a cadet now. In the span of a year the gangly girl had matured into a tall, sinewy young woman who was fiercely devoted to the hard training. She was Ronan's pride and she had been elected as a troop leader by her peers.

When she turned eighteen, Ronan emancipated her in a short ceremony. Macro took the time to ride out to the academy to attend Anais' birthday, and he presented the blushing young woman with a special sword. It had been crafted in Nipom, her mother's land of birth, and it was forged from folded steel. Anais had tears in her eyes when she accepted the precious weapon.

Then there were the Guards, led by his brother Lamas. He met them frequently for they were now responsible for the safety of his own person and household. Since he shared the house with Lamas he often dined with the officers of the Guard. Lamas had also done his part bonding with the guardsmen, and the two Princes enjoyed great popularity with them.

This morning, Macro was sitting in his office at the Vice-regent's Palace and going over the last night's report of the City Guard. The recent weeks had been eerily quiet in Tanitsar. The frequent clashes between the soldiers of the King and the armed followers of the noblemen had ceased completely. It seemed as if those followers did not come to town anymore. Macro had an uneasy feeling about it. It was common that noblemen left the city with their entourage to live at their country homes or to visit kin. But it seemed like they were all gone. That would bear some attention he decided.

While he was mulling this issue, a visitor was announced. "Elias, the trader, to see you, Vice-regent!" one of the scribes reported.

Curiously, Macro bade him enter. Elias the slave trader was not a frequent visitor. While the other slavers had frequent business at the Vice-regent's palace to register slaves, Elias seemed to fade out of that business. With the pirates as prime supplier gone, the slave market in Tanitsar was drying up and the demand for free labourers was increasing. Elias, it seemed, had found it worthwhile to find work for labourers and labourers for craftsmen, charging a fee from both for that service. Now he entered but his face showed that he was upset.

"Elias, what a rare pleasure!" Macro greeted him. "Do sit! Can I order refreshments?"

"No, my Prince, but I thank you. I come with a grievance. It seems that my fellow traders have received shipments of war captives, rather large shipments it seems. Why would my house be excluded from receiving those captives for trading?"

"War captives?" Macro asked, nonplussed. "We are not at war and I have learned nothing of any shipments. What makes you think that they are war captives?"

"They are young, strong men. They still wear their boots and their tunics are all in the same style."

"How many of them, old friend?"

"Likely more than two-hundred. That's why I think there should have been an open bidding."

"Elias, I shall get to the bottom of this. If these new slaves are indeed war captives I shall see to it that you will receive your fair share. For now it should be best if you did not speak about this matter."

After Elias had left, Macro paced his office for a few minutes. Two-hundred soldiers were in Tanitsar, captive or not. Did the Guard know? He rang his bell and a young servant appeared.

"My compliments to Prince Lamas, Commander of the Guard, and will he join me for the noon-meal. Run!"

Lamas came within the hour, clearly alarmed at the urgent summoning. Over an improvised meal Macro filled him in on what Elias had said. Lamas was instantly worried.

"This sounds fishy, Brother. The traders should have alerted the Guards that a trained soldiery of two-hundred is in town. What do you make of it?"

Macro made a face. He had been thinking about this since he learned of Elias' grievance.

"Could be greedy traders. But it could be a plot too. Think of it, Lamas. Two-hundred men. Arms can be hidden anywhere in the market. Now you have two-hundred armed men. Not enough to storm the Palace, especially at night when the gates are closed. But enough to overpower the guards at the city gates."

"Damn it! You're right, Macro. But who's behind this? The only one I can think of is Elbar. But this is not like him."

"I agree. But what about his crazy old uncle Botho? He'd do it and confront his nephew with the results. He favours slavery and the traders may easily be in liege with him."

"Yes, that fits. But what are we to do? I'll rouse the Guard, of course. But if the Nobles support this plot they can have more than three-thousand people marching on Tanitsar. Plus, they still form the Noble Horsemen."

Lamas was referring to the heavy cavalry formed by the sons of the nobility. Those knights would stand against them, and a formidable foe they would be.

"We need reinforcements. I'll alert the Academy. Ronan and his cadets can man the gates and the walls together with the Royal Guard. You should take a company and move into the market. While you seize those foreign soldiers I shall ride out and mobilise more troops."

"Shouldn't we alert the King first?"

Macro shook his head. "There are too many ears in the Palace. Move now with your Guards and eliminate the enemy within. I shall ride to alert Ronan. If you find soldiers in the slave holdings, inform the King and move our household to the Palace."

Lamas nodded and stood. Patting the hilt of his sword he looked at his brother.

"Better go home and arm yourself, Macro."

He left before Macro could reply. Rethinking his plan, Macro wrote a few lines of information and called for Thesia.

"Thesia, do not be alarmed, but there is treachery afoot. Lamas and I must act on it. Bring this letter to my mother. Don't leave the Palace after that. Stay with my mother, you hear!"

Thesia turned pale but she nodded bravely. Macro called for his personal guard. Five men were to accompany Thesia to the Palace. The rest, six men, followed him to his house. Arriving there he quickly put on his body armour and armed himself with both his swords and a short lance. By the time he was ready, his horse was waiting and already prancing nervously.

Off he galloped, out of the old city and into the hills. At this hour there was scarcely anyone on the roads. Macro therefore felt instant distrust when he saw five men loitering on the side of the road. They jumped up and tried to block the road but Macro was moving fast and he was ready. His long sword killed the first man before he could lift the javelin he carried. The second man was run over by Macro's charger while a third attacker's feeble defence proved ineffective and his head rolled into the dust. Then Macro was past the ambush.

Ten minutes later saw him already approaching the Academy. The former summer residence of the Princes sat in the centre of a park, and Macro could see the cadets as they executed various column developments. Ronan could be seen supervising the training, and Macro directed his horse to where his old friend stood.

Ronan looked up, surprised and alarmed.

"Friend Ronan," Macro panted, still winded from the ride and the short fight, "there's treachery afoot and the King needs his loyal followers. Assemble the cadets, arm them, and march on Tanitsar. Guard the gates and the walls. I'll ride on to bring in the Lancers and Archers as reinforcements. Be careful on the way. The foe is already surrounding the city. March in force and on full alert, with vanguard and rear guard!"

"The Nobles?" Ronan asked with flashing eyes.

"The Nobles and the slavers seem to be behind this. You take orders from no-one but the King or my brother Lamas!"

Macro wheeled his horse and even as he spurred his charger he heard Ronan's stentorian voice bellow the orders to file in before him. The cadets rushed to obey and Macro caught a fleeting glimpse of Anais who was leading a troop. Then he galloped down the road to the North.

Prince Lamas inspected the Guard as they formed file in the courtyard of the Palace. The two column leaders reported their columns ready, and Lamas thought quickly about the orders he had to give.

"Guard, at attention!" he ordered, and the men stiffened, realising the urgency in their commander's voice. "The First Column will close off the Palace until further orders. Gates will be closed and the walls will be manned. Be ready to repel attackers!

"Second Column, you will follow me to the slave market. Be ready for a fight. We have reports of two-hundred soldiers masquerading as slaves and hiding in the slave holdings. We'll surround the market and move in. Any resistance will be broken, d'ye hear?"