Sigurt’s words startled Sherwin, but he hid his unease and smiled back at his great uncle. He took a seat and poured himself some tea.
“You know this means I’m going to talk your ear off about my proposal,” he said jovially.
Sigurt snorted a reply and looked out over the city, the last orange light of the day reflecting off the Widdenmaer Lake.
Sherwin took a moment to relax and look around, checking out the faces of the servants in attendance and the faces of the two guards. They all seemed at ease, so if Sigurt was planning something they were likely uninvolved.
Sherwin asked about Sigurt’s family to which he received a grumpy reply. “My son is reciting the Edjadda at the Landesgrad tonight, and his two boys are there sucking up to the cameras. Showing off their supermodel wives.”
“You don’t approve?” Sherwin asked.
“Bah, they can marry who they like,” the old king responded. “Just wished they weren’t so damn proud of themselves.”
“I wish Irwin would just decide and get married,” Sherwin admitted. “He’s been with this girl for six years now. It’s time. His career isn’t that important to miss out on love and family.”
“Is this that shipwrights daughter?” Sigurt asked, feigning interest but coming across as disapproving. The future king of Esplandia marrying someone below his station? Sigurt was certainly a man of his times.
“The same,” Sherwin answered. Sherwin then took the time before the bells rang to try and convince Sigurt to back his proposal. Sigurt quietly listened as he explained why the Aernish should get their own state. “There won’t be anymore protests against Hastfradic rule,” and “A vote will show the Aernish that we believe they’re equals.”
It was an impassioned speech, one that Sherwin had been thinking about and practicing over the last couple days, one he hoped would, if not change the older man’s mind, at least get him to budge on his position.
“Our nation’s have stood together before, let’s stand together again,” Sherwin finished.
Sigurt continued to state across the city, the sky now completely dark, night fully settled over the city. He sighed, and then looked at Sherwin. “If the King of Esplandia says it, we must all fall in line?” He asked. Sherwin attempted to contest but Sigurt cut him off. “Your Mother was always quick to remind me of the debt Alstenbek owed, and your grandfather never let me forget how many times Esplandia pulled our asses out of the fire. Alstenbek will not be overshadowed by you or your country.”
They were interrupted by the first bell of the evening ringing out across the city. The rescue had begun. Or more accurately, the commemoration of the rescue of Avalus from her prison, as nine bells rang out over the city. It was also a commemoration of the Hastfrads embracing who they were, their old traditions and their new.
“Aenst,” both men said in unison, taking a drink of beer.
“I can’t support your proposal,” Sigurt said as the bell’s echoes died down. “Giving away an entire province? It’s not going to happen.”
The second bell rang out. “Twast,” both men said and drank.”
“Esplandia will be giving away northern Aernavaegn,” Sherwin argued, “An area twice the size of Ulsteraernholm.”
The third bell rang. “Thraest!” Both men drank again.
“This isn’t about weakening each other,” Sherwin continued. “It’s about cooperation. About a better future.”
The next bell rang. “Faeorst.” They took another drink.
“Then why not give up all of Aernavaegn?” Sigurt contested. “Why keep Idjo? Instead you keep the industrial heart of Western Esplandia.”
Another bell rang. “Faefest.” Another drink.
Sherwin was aware that time was running out. Only four more bells and Raum’s plan would be irreversible. “The Aernish deserve a homeland.”
“Then give them Esplandia,” Sigurt retorted.
Another bell rang. “Saegst.” Another drink. Three more to go.
“Dammit,” Sherwin said. “I’m asking for you to work with me. You don’t like the proposal? Let’s rewrite it together. What would Alstenbek want in exchange for cooperating?”
Another bell rang. Two more left. “Saefest.” Another drink.
“Alstenbek wants nothing from Esplandia,” Sigurt answered. “We don’t care if the Aernish get a homeland. Let them waste away and be gone. What does it matter?”
The next bell rang. One left. “Aetest.” Another drink.
“You can’t be serious?” Sherwin said in disgust. “This will only cause more conflict, more deaths. What do you really want?”
Sigurt grinned coldly. “Nothing from you.”
The last bell rang. “Naenst.” Sigurt finished his beer but Sherwin drank only a little. Avalus had been saved, the Hastfrads were free, and what was about to transpire was now out of Sherwin’s hands to stop.
