No Kingdom to Come

[Esplandia]

The man was chopping wood out front of his house, a little one floor stone and timber cabin overlooking the valley, as a black sedan pulled into the driveway and came to a stop no more than ten yards from him. It was rare to get visitors this far up in the Mereg, so he stopped chopping, driving his axe into the block.

Three men got out, two from the front and one from the back. The two at the front were dressed in plane gray suits, and they stood stiffly in the way that only cops would. The man from the back seat was in a black uniform, with the emblems of the Grand Duke’s special investigative service.

“Good day to you,” the investigator called to the man as he approached. “Are you Hergald Gaeft?”

The man just stared back distastefully. “Yes,” he answered. “And you are?”

“I am Inspector Taeka Ulfersen,” He Said laughing, a little too friendly. “I am glad you were home. You’re a surprisingly hard man to reach.”

Hergald cleared his throat and spit on the ground. “That’s the point.”

The inspector looked around the farm, breathing deeply of the mountain air. “I can understand the appeal.” He looked back to Hergald. “I’m investigating a missing person case and you may be able to help me out. By answering a few questions.”

He blinked at the inspector, not quite sure of what he said. “I don’t see how I would know anything.”

“You were in Nalgorhaem recently?”

“Yes. For my sister’s wedding.”

“Ah joy,” the inspector said, clapping his hands together. “A joyous occasion. Congratulations to her and blessings to you.”

“Not really. I don’t really care for the guy.”

This brought a dry laugh from the inspector. He quickly composed himself and changed the subject back to his questions. “And did you go anywhere else after the wedding?”

“No. I came right back home. I don’t care for the big cities. Too noisy.”

“Did you drive?”

“I flew. Not a fan of the crowded Alstenbek roads.”

The inspector stared deeply at Hergald. His eyes seemed to have lighted up, and a cunning grin now spread across his face. “Ah, now see, I know that is a lie.”

Hergald spat again, angrily this time. “Have a good day inspector.” He turned to leave but the inspector’s next words made him turn back.

“Who do you know in Bralgo?”

Hergald glared now openly and suspiciously. “That’s none of your business.”

“See now, it is. I know who you talked to. I’m pretty sure I know about what. The only question I want to know the answer to, is where you hid him?”

Hergald pointed back down the driveway. “Get off my property!”

The inspector waved his two men forward. And they came, drawing their weapons. “Mister Gaeft, I’d prefer to take you in unharmed, but make no mistake, I will take you in alive.”

Hergald looked at the two armed officers, then back at the Inspector. He contemplated running. Could he outrun them? Could he make it to woods down the hill? He doubted it and they’d likely shoot out his leg or something.

The inspector must have noticed the resignation in his eyes because he stepped aside and let his officers come forward. They grabbed Hergald’s arms and escorted him to the waiting car.

 

[Esplandia]

The flight from Karthied was only four hours, but Elaena had fallen asleep just a half hour after takeoff. Irwin watched her sleep, propped against the window, moth slightly opened. The last few weeks had been joyous. They’d spent their honeymoon high up in the Hakonkregs at his grandfather’s cabin. No one but the two of them.

But they’d eventually had to come back and the world hadn’t waited for them either. His father had given him an urgent task. Fly to Anfallith and come to an agreement over the Soltenfrith situation.

It seemed like an odd time for the situation to get heated, a year after Sherwin had become king of Alstenbek.

“Decide the best solution to this nonsense,” his father had told him. “And if we have to give up the damn city, get something out of it for us.”

“You must have a preference for the outcome,” he’d asked.

His father had only looked at him in that measuring-him-up way he had about him. “You’ll be king one day. No time like the present to watch you fly. Besides I have faith in you.”

No pressure, Irwin had thought.

His heart fluttered as the plane dropped altitude. Elaena stirred, mumbling in her sleep. He didn’t wake her yet. He looked out his own window, seeing the Saldut Coast below him, a few ships breaking the water as they made for port, or headed out to sea.

He could see the city of Soltenfrith, nestled around a small bay. He thought it was an ugly city. A manufacturing city. But its biggest asset, and the one that had set off this nonsense, was the naval base sitting on a spit of land jutting south and west from the city.

When Alstenbek has been ruled by Sigurt IX, the city had been the kingdom’s only port, and the only place from which to launch their naval forces. But now, united with Esplandia, the city and the base were no longer necessary for Alstenbeken trade.

The plane then banked south and soon the city passed out of sight behind the tail of the plane. But now another city could be seen. This city was massive, and it seemed to sparkle in the light. Anfallith, the Jenovak City, and the beating heart of the Whispering Sea. This was the destination of the plane, the place that this council would take place. Irwin found himself excited. Of all the free cities he’d only ever been to Jenova, and it had always impressed him.

He could see the gleaming towers of Anfallith’s financial district, the brightly colored houses along the shore, the quaint docks and quays. At the seaport the large cranes for loading and unloading ships stood like sentinels. And at the north end of the city, near the river, was the old city, its ancient red stone walls snaking through the city, and the old palace of the Grand Mayor dominating the old skyline.

The plane descended again, banking west, beginning its final descent.

Elaena finally woke up. She stretched and smiled at him. He pointed at the city. “There she is.”

She shared his enthusiasm. Until recently she’s never even left Eborum, but now she was seeing the whole Vestrugat with her husband. “It’s amazing,” she said.

Irwin squeezed her hand, enjoying the moment. Because they wouldn’t have much chance to see the city after they landed. He was here to hopefully prevent tensions among the southwestern states of the Federation. He wished, and not for the first time, that his father was doing this instead. But he knew he’d be able to handle the talks himself.

 

[Esplandia]

When Irwin and Elaena arrived at the Palace of the Grand Mayor they were greeted by Baeleg Gent. Irwin was happy to see him and shook his hand firmly.

“When did you get here?” the Prince asked.

“A week ago,” the Count answered. “Your father sent me ahead to get this whole thing going.” He turned to Elaena and kissed her hand. “I’m glad to finally make your acquaintance my lady. Your husband has only spoken positively of you. I see he wasn’t exaggerating.”

She smiled warmly. “The pleasure’s mine.”

Baeleg held her hand a second longer, as was custom, and then gently let it go. “Come, I’ve prepared a briefing for you. Grand Mayor Kyurikhaer has set aside an office for us to use.”

He lead them deep into the palace along ornately decorated hallways and up a few sets of stairs. The office they’d been lent to use was not particularly large, but it was exquisitely furnished with imported furniture from across the globe.

“I’ve arranged for the lady to visit a number of historic sites, and an orphanage or two,” Baeleg said as they sat down. “The people will be happy to have her visiting and taking an interest.” He sighed as he settled into his chair. “I assume you’ve had training on what’s expected of you.”

She groaned audibly. “Extensively,” She said in mock disgust.

“The joys of marrying a noble,” Irwin comforted her, squeezing her hand.

Baeleg nodded, pleased to hear her response. “I’ll prepare an itinerary. Now, as far as this little conference you’ll be meeting with the Grand Mayor, Albrekt, and Gaston.”

“Not their representatives?” Irwin asked.

“You’re father decided to send you, so it would be seen as insulting for none of the others to be here.” He then turned serious and leaned in. “Kyurikhaer would like to meet with you before the conference. No doubt to try and strike her own deal. This is very delicate business, so avoid agreeing to anything but don’t outright refuse.”

Irwin thanked him for the advice. “I’m glad you’re here to help.”

“Don’t expect too much. You’re father was adamant that you take the lead on everything.”

Irwin couldn’t help but make a sour face about it. Elaena must have seen because she squeezed his hand back.

“What do you think the three are gonna want out of this?” Irwin asked. He’d already been briefed, but if Baeleg had been in communication with the attendees, then he’d likely have gleaned his own information.

“Kyurikhaer doesn’t care if the city remains in Esplandian hands. Her concern is with that naval base. If it was removed, she’d be happy. Albrekt of course wants the whole damn corridor. He’ll argue that it was taken illegally by the Talamnics, which it was. But he never once raised his protests after Sigurt was crowned, so this likely all boils down to anti-Esplandianism at this point. And Gaston, well, I still don’t know his intentions. He seems to want to play an intermediary in all this, but there’s got to be something he’s gonna want out of it.”

Irwin shrugged. “He might just want to support us. He seems to support my father.”

Baeleg furled his brow and stared down at the floor. “He’s a hard one to figure out. Hopefully he is just trying to be benevolent. We’ll see.”

 

[Esplandia]

When the blindfold that had been covering Hergald Gaeft's eyes was removed he found himself in a dimly lit barn. He'd been gagged and blindfolded shortly after being taken from his cabin. The Inspector, Taeka Ulfersen, as he called himself, had ignored any protests. Hergald had stopped struggling when he'd politely been told to cease or else he'd have his legs broken.

He already knew that none of this had been legally sanctioned, even before the blindfolding. This was about maintaining Vestrugattic peace. Something Hergald would have spit at, if not for the gag.

He was roughly pushed down onto a chair and his legs and arms were tied to it. The gag was removed after and he was given a drink of warm water. He drank it gratefully. "I want to speak to a lawyer," he demanded.

"Why?" he heard the Inspector ask. "You haven't arrested yet."

He shook at his restraints, while craining his neck to try and see the inspector. "Then why am I tied to this chair?" he asked.

"Because I want you to cooperate." Taeka stepped into his view. "You see, I could charge you with treason. I have enough evidence for that. But I'd rather this whole business not come to light."

"Fuck you!" Hergald spat at the Inspector, but the spittle missed as Taeka stepped to the side. He just laughed, then made a resigned wave with his hand. One of the inspector's men stepped forward, and drawing back his arm punched Hergald in the side of the head, knocking him and the chair over.

Hergald's head rang, and everything began to spin. He had to close his eyes until the spinning stopped. His ears continued to ring though as he was pulled back upright. He opened his eyes and Taeka was kneeling next to him. "Let's be nice about this. I'd rather not kill you. Or maim you more than neccessary." He stood back up and then addressed two more men who had just entered the barn. "Did you find anything at his cabin?" he asked.

"Nothing that stood out," was the answer. "There was no computer or any electronics there, but we collected his paperwork. Maybe there's something in there."

Taeka nodded and then turned back to Hergald. He studied the prisoner for a second, his brow wrinkled in curiosity. "Check his clothing, his pockets, and take off his shoes," he ordered his men. "Also take any jewelry he's wearing and run a scan over it. Let's assume he's more than he seems and give everything the works." He stepped back closer to Hergald. "I don't think you're a spy, but maybe you are working for someone." And then he smiled a malicious smile. Hergald stared back at him with as much hatred as he could muster.

 

[Esplandia]

Irwin always hated waiting. The conference would take place over the next few days, and he would spend the next couple hours worrying and stressing. Baeleg has prepared everything for the coming conference, but the whole deal rested on his decisions.

First though, he’d have to meat with the Grand Mayor. Elaena had retired to the rooms prepared for them in one of the cities old mansions. She’d have a busy day tomorrow touring the city. He envied her though. She wouldn’t have to lead the discussion.

Irwin was let into the Grand Mayor’s study. The sun had set by time he met with her. Mathaelda Kyurikhaer was a woman in her late forties, her blonde hair starting to turn platinum. She greeted him warmly and then poured him a drank. An imported whiskey.

He drank politely. He wasn’t a fan of hard liquor. Something he shared with his father.

“How do you find Anfalleth?” She asked, sipping at her own drink.

“Overwhelming,” he answered. “I wish I was here to see more of it.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Duty before pleasure.”

He lifted his glass in agreement, sipping again. He leaned back in his chair, enjoying the cushioning, and let himself relax a little. He hoped things went smoothly over the next few days.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, your highness,” Mathaelda said, “this whole conference is a sham.”

He lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she continued, “Albrekt is serious in his desire to reclaim lost territory, but he’s always been too serious. While I’ve always wanted that damn naval base gone, I’m far less up in arms about it now that it’s under Esplandian control. King Sigurt is dead, long live King Sherwin!”

She raised her glass in a toast, laughing. Irwin wasn’t sure how to respond (mocking a dead man?), but he raised his glass anyway.

“I thought Sigurt was well liked out here,” Irwin said.

“He was tolerated. Better him than a Hastenfraktan or an Esplandian. No offense. That’s how the Sagseners and Meregwuolders think, anyway. But Sigurt was a bully, and he was so damned bitter about always being in your father’s shadow. I won’t miss him.”

“Thank you for being candid,” Irwin said sincerely, if a bit confused.

She laughed. “I’m sorry. I’m probably making you uncomfortable.” She got up and poured herself a drink, offering him a refill as well. He declined.

“I suppose you want to know what I want out of this conference.” She retook her seat and met his gaze.

“I’ve been curious about that.”

“I want you to keep that damned corridor,” she stated bluntly. “While it would settle Albrekt down, and under normal circumstances I’d support his claim, I can’t get behind this nonsense. You see, I’m absolutely sure that Albrekt would have continued to seethe in silence if not for Gaston auf Volget.”

Irwin didn’t know how to respond. She must have seen his confusion because she leaned forward confidentially. “You didn’t know? Gaston orchestrated this whole conference. He convinced Albrekt to air his concerns and to make his demand. And I can’t figure out what he gets out of this. Political browny points?” She snorted rudely. “He does nothing out of the kindness of his heart.”

Irwin hadn’t gotten anything but honesty from his previous interactions with Gaston, so he wasn’t quite convinced. Baeleg had told him not to pick a side in this. Still, he’d try to keep an open eye for the dealings going on behind this conference.

“So you want me to be suspicious of Gaston?” He asked.

“I want you not to trust any of this. Make a decision on what to do with Soltenfrith, but remember, for everything there is a price.”

 

[Esplandia]

Gaston auf Volget’s arrival was missing only the parade of elephants and the fanfare. At least that’s how Irwin felt, watching the Grand Duke’s arrival. He didn’t just climb the stairs, but he conquered them, taking two steps at a time and outpacing his entourage. He entered the palace of the Grand Mayor, swept his long coat off, and tossed it one handed behind him to his trailing party without looking to see if they caught it.

“Prince Irwin,” he called, as if greeting an old friend. He embraced Irwin in a warm hug.

Irwin couldn’t help but be taken with the man’s good humor. “Duke Gaston,” Irwin responded. “I’m glad to see you again.”

Gaston slapped Irwin’s shoulder affectionately. “I wondered if you would. After that Raektdev comment the media made a fuss about, I was worried you’d think less of me.”

Irwin tried to protest, but the Grand Duke took his arm and lead him towards the conference hall. “I know it might have seemed like a ploy, but I really think your father has united the Vestrugat no less then Braegga, and is deserving of the title.” His laugh echoed down the halls. Irwin found himself quite taken with the cheer and wit of this man. Too many Lords were stuffy and serious, it was a nice change of pace for one to be different.

“I’ve heard that you orchestrated this whole conference?” Irwin said. He decided he’d be blunt on the matter.

Gaston didn’t deny it. “I merely told Albrekt to stop his complaining and make his feelings known. Sherwin isn’t a spiteful bore, I said, and he’s open minded to your concerns.”

Irwin smiled, pleased with the honesty of the response. “Here’s the conference hall,” Irwin said, stopping outside the big wooden doors. “I must head back, Albrekt will be arriving soon and I want to be there to greet him as well.”

Gaston bid him farewell and, with his entourage who had finally caught up, he entered into the room. Irwin turned and headed back.

 

[Esplandia]

Prince Albrekt was as different from Gaston auf Volget as one could get. Albrekt was a short pudgy man in his late fifties. He walked with a limp, leaning heavily on a cane. Most of his hair was already gone, except for tufts around his ears and a full beard that was mostly gray but flecked with black.

He also was more reserved, and had what Irwin would have described, as a permanent sour attitude. He huffed the entire way up the stairs, mumbling under his breath.

“...and gotta climb these damned stairs,” Irwin heard him grumble as he entered the building. He came to a stop, with his entourage stopping behind him. He noticed Irwin waiting for him and his scowl got more sour. “Why do all these meetings have to be at the top of long damned stairs,” he asked.

Irwin shrugged. “They make for good pictures for the press.”

“Aela can damn the press,” he said as he limped forward. He grumbled some more as he approached Irwin. The prince held out his hand for Albrekt, but he ignored it and started towards the conference room. “Come on, let’s get this business over with.”

Irwin smiled wryly at the obvious snub, but said nothing and followed the older man.

“It was damned brave of your father to send you,” Albrekt commented snidely. “Make me have to travel.”

“I was only sent so I could get some experience in these matters.”

“And I’m a golden unicorn.” Albrekt snorted in disgust. “I know your father quite well.”

Irwin didn’t respond. He wouldn’t rise to the obvious bait. “I hope this whole conference can be beneficial to both of us then,” was all he said.

“Are you gonna return our rightful land back to us?” Albrekt asked, coming to a stop outside the conference room doors, a nasty look on his face. Irwin just stoically returned the gaze, saying nothing. Albrekt harrumphed. “Didn’t think so.” He then turned and stormed through the doors. Irwin stood behind for a second. This was already going sour.

 

[Esplandia]

The inspector looked over the table, the prisoner’s things lined up neatly into three rows. They’d emptied his pockets and taken his shoes. Each item had been carefully looked at, studied, and checked for any kind of hidden electronic device.

Aside from his shoes there was a pocket notebook filled with innocuous notes and shopping lists, a set of house keys, a simple gold wedding band (which drew the inspector’s attention), a small tin of hand salve, and a packet of tobacco and rolling paper. He hadn’t really expected this man to be carrying anything incriminating, but the mundanity of these items was something that he found suspicious in and of itself.

He picked up the wedding band and approached Hergald. He held it up and twirled it in his fingers. The outside was smooth and featureless, the inside rough. He checked for any markings but saw only a simple description of a date and a set of initials. “You were married?” he asked the prisoner. It was a question that Taeka didn’t need the answer to. He’d done a background check on this man, seeing the history of his life layed out. A wife, a failed business, a nasty divorce. A very tragic, very neat, personal story.

“For five years.”

“She was Ceretian?” He raised the ring up to emphasize.

Hergald’s silence was answer enough for the inspector.

“The Messianist tradition of giving rings always intrigued me,” the inspector continued. “An emblem of love, a symbolic binding. They put an emphasis on marriage being a divine contract. There’s nothing even similar in Aelostianism. You wore it out of respect for her traditions?”

Again Hergald didn’t answer, silently glaring at the inspector. Taeka shrugged dismissively and put the ring back down on the table. He came back, placing a chair down in front of the prisoner and took a seat.

“How do you know the Lady Elaena?”

“I don’t know any ladies, especially no ladies named Elaena.”

“I had assumed there was a personal connection. Friend of the family. An associate maybe. But your background has been flawlessly crafted, absolutely perfectly meticulous. Nothing stands out, nothing out of the ordinary. Flawless. And that means an agency. But which one? The Esplandians? No, Skeowaeng wouldn’t leave loose ends like that. Hastenfrakta? What would they want with a mentally disturbed woman? I just can’t see a connection. The Alstenbekers? One of their own, protecting their interests from the Esplandians, especially after the unified monarchy.”

He stared intently at Hergald during the whole conversation, looking for any subtle give away that he was onto something. But the man remained stoic. There was hatred in his eyes, fear that he was keeping carefully contained, but no signs that anything the inspector had said shocked him. A lack of response just made Taeka more convinced. Why wasn’t this man terrified?

“Who are you really?”

“Hergald Gaeft,” the prisoner answered. “You said it yourself. You know my personal history.”

“Yes but that’s been faked.”

“It’s my damned life. How could it be faked?”

“Because nothing stands out. Not a damn thing. No missing gaps, no criminal history, average school grades, and on and on. That screams of irregularities. Even my own personal record has missing times. After university I travelled to Iraelia for a year. That part is entirely blank except for my arrival and departure. But you, nothing is missing.” He leaned in, locking eyes with Hergald. “So I’m gonna ask again, who are you?”

 

[Esplandia]

The meeting had gone horribly so far. Albrekt was intent on being obstinate. Irwin realized there would be no budging for that man. What could he do if Irwin denied all his demands and claims, and kept the corridor for Esplandia and Alstenbek? The prince realized the old man could probably do a great deal. Certainly making a ruckus in the Landesgrad.

“So the Esplandian king will maintain a Talamnic policy, and nothing will change,” Albrekt bellowed, once again derailing talk of a compromise.

“You already know it’s not that simple,” Irwin countered. “Esplandia and Alstenbek are not officially unified. They have one king, yes, but two governments. And like it or not Alstenbek’s trade is dependent on this corridor, this city.”

“Excuse! That’s all this is. Soltenfrith rightfully belongs to Saegsen.”

Irwin felt himself losing patience with the stubborn old fool. He didn’t know how to get through to him, and doubted he could. He got ready to speak again, but was cut off by Mathaelda Kyurikhaer.

“What is your position on the naval base there?” She asked.

Irwin was thankful. This was an issue he could actually make headway on. “The base isn’t necessary for the Esplandian-Alstenbek navies. The Alstenbek facilities can be relocated to Kadaevfen, and the base in Soltenfrith could be closed by the end of the year.”

“See, dear prince,” she said addressing Albrekt. “This is progress. The Esplandians aren’t telling you no. They merely need you to be willing to work with them.”

“Compromise is the very thing that lead us to Talamnic occupation,” Albrekt continued his tired argument. “Why should we continue to allow the disregard for our rights just because it’s now a so-called ally that holds the land?”

“And what of Alstenbek, which is dependent on that corridor for trade and commerce?” Irwin asked. “What about their rights?”

“What about them? The can send their goods down the Sarjeg.”

“We would still need time to build the infrastructure needed for that size of an increase in shipping. Locks, waterways, ports.”

“Not my problem.”

Irwin again found himself ready to burst out and snap at the old fool. Baeleg, sitting next to him, put a hand on his shoulder, stopping the outburst. Irwin sighed, letting the anger go. “Perhaps a short recess is in order,” the prince suggested, looking around the room.

“I don’t see the need. But we can end this here and I can bring my grievances to the Federation to decide.” He made as of to get up but Gaston raised his hand.

“Perhaps there is a solution,” the Grand Duke mused. “Albrekt you must be patient. The prince can’t just concede. He has to think about the needs of the Alstenbekers. If he gave up the corridor they’d feel like they were being marginalized as second to Esplandians. He has to think about both his peoples.”

Albrekt made a dismissive grunt. “Then how to solve this? I see no way.”

Gaston turned to Irwin. “You said it yourself. What you need is time. Time to build up new infrastructure. Time to get the Alstenbekers on board with the new order of things. So there’s your answer: time.”

Irwin didn’t quite understand, and struggled to think what solution Gaston was alluding to. He also saw Mathaelda looked puzzled. But Albrekt’s face had lit up in a knowing grin.

“Ah yes, I see now. Return the corridor, but not today.”

“Exactly,” Gaston agreed. “A deal, say over fifteen years, where the Corridor remains under Alstenbek control until the time it will be returned to Saegsen. That should be quite long enough for everything to be done.”

Albrekt nodded in agreement. Irwin realized it was quite a good plan. One that would satisfy all parties. And he also realized that this very thing was what Gaston and Albrekt had probably decided on before the conference. The reason Gaston had attended.

Irwin found himself wondering why they’d set this all up. But he didn’t have time to think about it too much. Everyone was looking at him expectantly.

He took a moment to think over the idea. But it was a good idea. “Yes,” Irwin said. “I like the sound of it. It’s a good start.” And then they begin to discuss the details.

 

[Esplandia]

Taeka wiped his hands on an old rag. He’d not gotten any information from Hergald and he’d considered being more aggressive with his questioning. But he realized that if their prisoner was working for one of the agencies then they wouldn’t get much from him. Even with torture.

He found himself looking at the man’s belongings again. How little there was of his existence. The ring was probably the man’s most important item. Taeka was coming to realize he’d not get anything from the man. They needed some leverage on him. He considered about using the man’s ex wife against him, but wondered how effective that would be. He still wore the ring, they’d taken it off his finger, but the man’s background told a tale of bitterness. Plus he didn’t know if that was real, or had it been made up as part of his story. He dismissed the idea. Looks like they’d reached a dead end.

They’d questioned Hergald through the night, getting aggressive a few times, but the man had given nothing. It was time to call it quits. He got two of his men to head out into the fields and dig a hole, a grave for this man. They’d have to get the information they wanted from somewhere else. Back to square one.

Hergald watched the two men leave carrying shovels, and he was still silent when they came back and reported to the inspector.

Taeka just nodded to their affirmation that the task was done. He checked his watch. The sun would be rising soon. Time to move on.

He gave the go ahead and the two men grabbed Hergald, untying him and dragging him to the barn door.

The inspector turned to follow, his eyes passing over the man’s belongings one last time. He took to steps and then stopped. He turned back and grabbed the notebook. He flipped through it, looking at the shopping lists, the daily notes of a persons life. The pages had been numbered at the top. At first he’d assumed it had been a date plus page number, but who numbered grocery lists?

He looked again at the ring. Then he tossed the notebook down, and grabbed the ring, finally following his men out.

They pushed him to his knees before the grave they’d dug. One man stood to the side, the other behind with gun drawn. Taeka approached with purpose.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this,” he told Hergald. “But I can’t let whoever you’re working for to know we’re pursuing this.” He dropped into a crouch next him. “The least I can do us return this.” He held out the ring.

Hergald reaches for it, but Tarka just took his hand and flipped it palm down. He stared at the man’s fingers.

“Funny,” Taeka mused. “You don’t have an indent from wearing the ring. So you don’t actually wear it often. So why were you wearing it when we found you?”

He stood up and Hergald moved to grab for him but Taeka’s men held him back. The inspector held up the ring, inspecting the inscription inside the ring again, finally connecting it to the notebook. A cipher, he realized.

Hergald was looking at him, his face portraying terror at last. “We’re done,” he told his men. He turned and walked away, not even flinching when the gunshot sounded out. He’d gotten the information he needed, his people would just have to crack it.

 

[Esplandia]

Irwin leaned back in his seat aboard the airplane at home, wishing he could nod off. It had been a long couple of days. He was glad the conference was finally over. Elaena was looking out the window, as the plane climbed to altitude.

She'd had a busy time as well, but the people of Anfalleth had seemed taken by her. Even if nothing else came from this it was obvious the Jenovak city was squarely in support of Esplandia. They'd been squarely under Sigurt's influence out of necessity, and now they were free of his influence and much warmer to King Sherwin. A considerable victory for Irwin.
His father had been satisfied with the outcome, congratulating Irwin on his performance. But the Prince couldn't help but wonder how the conference would have gone under more experienced diplomacy.

"Gaston and Albrekt very likely had the whole deal planned out already," Baeleg had told him.

"Why though?" Irwin had asked.

"Appearances. Gaston now looks like a problem solver and Albrekt will look to be more a reasonable man. Never underestimate the power of how people view you. They'll both likely use this conference to further their own agendas in the Federation Landesgrad."

Irwin was greatful that their had been progress. It also seemed the Alstenbekers were satisfied with the outcome, mostly. There were of course those who were using the deal as anti-Esplandian propaganda. By giving up the corridor, they were saying, it showed that Sherwin cared only for Esplandian interests. But it was inevitable that some would be unhappy, no matter the outcome.

Elaena looked at him and smiled. "Are you ready to be home?" she asked.

"Yes," Irwin answered. "Though I'm sure my father will already have another problem for me to deal with."

She got up and came and sat in his lap. She looked intently in his eyes. "You'll handle it," she said.

He kissed her lovingly. "We'll handle it," he corrected.

 

[Esplandia]

Gaston was feeling quite proud of himself. He’d managed to pull the right strings, play the right part, and now he’d brokered an important deal to maintain the peace. He’d certainly use this victory to bolster his own support in the Landesgrad.

For once Meregwuold would be a nation of importance, not playing second fiddle to one of the Kingdoms. Though he had to admit he liked Prince Irwin, he still had enjoyed yanking him around over this. And more so, yanking around that grumpy fool, Prince Albrekt.

He returned to Banshberg in good spirits.

“An inspector Ulfersen wishes to speak with you,” his secretary informed him as he returned to his office.

Gaston smiled smugly at this. Hopefully it was good news.

“Good to see you Taeka,” he said, greeting the man. Taeka bowed respectfully. “How’d the mission go.”

The inspector was stony faced. “Somebody else had gotten to the boy before us.”

Gaston’s usual smile faded. “Who?” he asked with some trepidation.

“I don’t know. It’s not one of the big agencies. Or the Alstenbekers.”

Gaston held out his hand and Taeka passed him his report. The Grabd Duke skimmed through it, his brow furled. His eyes scanned back and forth, and each time he flipped a page it was with more irritation.

“What did this notebook have in it? Did you decipher it?”

“Most of it,” Taeka answered. “It’s mostly contact dates, meeting places. No names.” He then showed Gaston where in the report he’d put that information. Gaston read it with an incredulous look on his face. Finally he tossed down the papers in disgust.

“That damned old man,” he cursed. “All of those meeting times correspond to our meetings. He thinks he’s pretty slick.”

“My lord?” Taeka asked in confusion.

“Albrekt,” Gaston answered. “And I thought I’d been playing him.”

---

Albrekt was happy to be home. The conference had been a good distraction of his time. A victory for him, more so for Gaston. Still, he had won the day in the end. Which was confirmed when he was greeted by the head of his intelligence office.

“How’d it go?” He asked.

The thin, leathery man answered perfunctory. “Our agent has gone missing. I’m afraid he may be dead.”

Albrekt waved his hand dismissively. It was part of cost. “The boy?”

“He’s been brought here safely.”

It was exceptionally good news. He left his intelligence man and made his way to where they were keeping his prize. And the boy was a prize.

The boy was being kept in one of the large guest rooms. Two guards stood in the room with him. He’d been brought food and drink, but the boy had ignored it. He stared forlornly out the window.

Albrekt approached him. “Welcome to Saegsberg,” he told him.

The boy didn’t even look up. “Why am I here?”

“Your mother, Elaena Auvestet-Hadeg, was a friend of mine.”

“No she wasn’t.” The boy’s tone startled Albrekt. “She has no friends. None she would recognize or remember now anyway.”

The Prince leaned up against the window, and looked at the boy. “You know what happened to your grandfather?”

The boy looked sideways at the prince. “I don’t care. He never cared about me.”

“No, he wouldn’t have. But your uncles did. And they didn’t deserve what happened to them.”

This brought a reaction, and the boy looked down, tears in his eyes. “I sometimes wish I could’ve been there for the execution of their killers.”

“Those men, the antimonarchists, they didn’t kill your family. I have no proof, only suspicions, but I know who was actually responsible.”

“Who?”

“The one man who benefited from their deaths, who now rules the kingdom that is rightfully yours. King Sherwin.”

A sliver of anger passed over the boy’s features. He didn’t know if he should believe, but Albrekt could tell he dearly wanted to. “I can’t be king. I’m a bastard.”

“The Esplandian royal family are all descended from a bastard. It’s not about legitimacy, it’s about the strength of character and the will. If you have those you could rule.” He stood back up and made a step towards the door. “Think about it, Sigurt.”

---

God’s Gonna Cut You Down by Johnny Cash