Miniarc-Beyond Borders-05 (Patreon)
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Dowager asked for a break to consider the situation more deeply. Lesley seemed annoyed by the delay but acquiesced when he offered her lunch. For all her pretense at civility, she scarfed down the dry rations offered to her like a beast. The prince who was raised using three different forks for dinner couldn’t look at the gnashing teeth without feeling sick to his stomach. Imagining such a sight happening throughout the kingdom was enough to make him want to send the boarwoman away but Dowager wasn’t so petty as to let his personal feelings interfere with matters of state.
In truth, he wanted to follow his protector’s advice. Lesley put on a good show, but he didn’t, couldn’t, think of the goblins as anything more than the suicidal savages that had thrown themselves on his men’s swords with mindless fury. Perhaps desperation had caused them to take leave of their senses temporarily but he’d yet to see any sign of intelligence in the creatures.
Standing together beyond the range of their arrows didn’t count. A dog could be taught to sit and stay but the kingdom didn’t let them own land. Dowager feared that accepting their request for sanctuary would be inviting a green wave of chaos into the kingdom. One that might have the potential to drown them. Sir Quintana was right when he said Dowager didn’t know what they were really capable of and the prince didn’t want to find out.
Unfortunately, he didn’t know how he could refuse to contact his father. The problem had nothing to do with the invaders but with the authority of the crown. This was simply not a decision that anyone besides the king should make.
If Dowager were to take charge of the situation, it would be the equivalent of declaring himself his father’s equal. A very dangerous thing and an opportunity the troublemakers amongst those in power wouldn’t lose. His father had enough trouble asserting his rule over the more powerful nobles without someone spreading rumors of a coup.
Sir Quintana understood when Dowager explained his reasoning, but he wasn’t happy. “This is why I stayed a knight. Useless titles only get in the way of the work.”
Dowager wasn’t happy having the word king being called a useless title, as it would one day belong to him, but he understood the knight’s frustration. While he didn’t resent his father’s ruling style, he did blame his weak reign for the current situation. He should not have to worry about appearances when the kingdom’s safety was at stake. When he wore the crown, the nobles would know better than to scheme against him.
It was with great reluctance that the two men returned to the boarwoman. Lesley had waited for them to finish their discussion while seated on the ground, her arms crossed and her head bowed. She looked up when they took the first step toward her, climbing to her feet when she was sure they were approaching. “Finished? Have you made a decision?”
Dowager forced himself not to sigh. “We are willing to agree to a ceasefire.” He was slightly mollified by the boarwoman’s sigh of relief. He might’ve done something unbecoming if the creature was smug about her victory. “Under a few conditions.”
“What?”
“Firstly, your army will surrender all weapons.”
Lesley snorted, a disgustingly pig-like sound. “Weapons? We have no weapons.”
“Then we will verify that. You will open your camp to us and we will search it. Including personal belongings and everyone in it. Which brings me to my second condition. Your…people will be put under guard. We will be reorganizing your camp and my men will supervise them. To make sure things are as they appear to be.”
The more they talked, the better Dowager got at reading Lesley’s emotions. Rather than her lips, he could tell from the flaring of her wide nostrils that she was upset, matching the gesture to her tone. “You want us to be under your power. Power can be abused.”
“I assure you, the royal army conducts itself with dignity.”
“I don’t know your royal army, but I know leaders. They will do anything if they can get away it. Someone has to watch them.” She turned to Sir Quintana. “That one is strong. He listens when I talk. Let him watch the camp. He seems good enough and is strong enough to watch the others who are not so good.”
“Sir Quintana isn’t…someone who can remain here.”
“…you don’t think we’re worth a strong warrior.”
Dowager kept his silence but no answer was answer enough.
“This is not good, prince. You ask us to trust ourselves to you but do not want to give us someone trustworthy.”
The prince felt his temper spike and struggled to keep his tone neutral. “You have come to this kingdom, looking for sanctuary. You want to be citizens of Harvest. If so, the bare minimum required is to bow before the crown’s authority and as the first prince, I wield that authority. We are no longer negotiating. I am telling what will happen. If you refuse, then you will become simple invaders again and we will return to our respective armies as enemies.”
Dowager was ready for the woman to be angry. He would have liked it if she were cowled. Instead, she was silent. Quiet as the dead as she stared at him intensely. The prince resisted the urge to squirm or look away.
“Alright, prince,” she finally said. “You gave us this chance, we will obey. Are there any more conditions?”
“Yes. Thirdly, I will return to the capital and you will be coming with me. You are the message.”
Again, she took the condition with surprising grace. “You want to separate the leader from the army. Smart but unnecessary. We won’t be fighting. I will come.”
“…you seem confident.”
“The tribes have much to offer. I was only concerned that your people would swing your swords without seeing us. Now we have an opportunity. As long as there is a chance, the tribes will prevail.”
The boarwoman’s faith in her abilities remained unsettling but things were going well. He expected more resistance. She was the only thing that separated the mob behind them from the senseless creatures that had died in droves with no effort from his men.
“Good. Return to your people, make your arrangements. Tomorrow morning, you will surrender yourself to my men. We will stay long enough for me to ensure that my men have your camp under control. Then we leave for the capital.” He was rushing things a little but if they weren’t going to fight, he wanted out of the south as soon as possible.
“Good.”
The boarwoman proved once more that her civility was an act as she turned to go without so much as a respectful nod. “Wait!” the prince shouted, a sudden curiosity grabbing hold of him. “You seem to take pride in your people,” he said as she looked over her shoulder. “Seeing you, I believe there may be something more to the tribes than…what I’ve witnessed.”
“You mean the ones you killed. Do not worry. That is not who I ask your leader to welcome. We are different.”
“How? You look the same.” He grimaced. “The people you lead do.”
Lesley huffed. “We are different here.” A thick finger twice the width of his own pointed at her head. “The tribes, they sent away the weak. Weak in body, weak in mind. Those who cannot think and those with no will. The ones you killed were those with broken minds and broken wills. They cannot trust me who tells them they can have a future where they do not have to fight for crumbs. That they can live with pride. So, I put them on different boats. Let them die as they please.”
“You didn’t try to save them?”
“Save them? I am still fighting to save myself and the others. I am not so strong as to change people who don’t want to change themselves. Any more questions, prince?”
“…no.”
“Then I will see you in the morning.”
Sir Quintana stepped up to his side. “Not so savage, eh?” he asked as they watched her walk back to her people.
Dowager slowly nodded. He hated to admit it but the boarwoman had reminded him of the army officers he’d admired as a boy. She spoke with the honor of someone entrusted with lives and took that responsibility seriously.
Maybe there really was something more to the savages than they presented. He didn’t know if they belonged in Harvest but for the first time, he held the slightest hope that he wouldn’t regret his decision.