"So ... that is your plan?" "Yes, what do you think of it?" Michael asked as he set down the cup he had been drinking from and looked at Avonna. Avonna shook her head. "Sadly, you are right," she replied, holding up a hand to forestall his words. "Instead of a skirmish or minor war, it would create a catastrophic war--magical as well as mundane--even if the Heartsworns backed you, which they wouldn't. You--already a target of the Council--are all that would be between them and their retribution. They already rule alongside the Royals, and you want to set yourself up as their leader? Every House would come after you, afraid of you and Davin becoming Overlords to them all." "All right, bad idea--I get it!" Michael responded, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair and wearily rested his head on the table. "I just can't get past this stumbling block of 'me Vs them.' I always end up short on the 'me' side ... I was trying to think of a way to balance things out." "Maybe you should think of it as more as an 'us and us' thing." "What? Davin and I..." "I wasn't referring to you and Davin," Avonna said as she leaned over the board, her shadow falling over the carved pieces set between them. "I was referring to you and the Great Council." "Avonna, they're ... they'll try ..." "Yes, they will, but only covertly and only until you are Joined. Once that happens, you will be too visible for them to take any action." "But ..." "Do you love Davin?" "Of course I do! This isn't about that, Vonna." "That's exactly what this is about. young Michael," she said as she leveled a gaze upon him. "If you loved him, you do anything to keep him safe ... even make nice with the Great Council." "You suddenly are saying that they are not a threat? Why does Blaine employ an assassin? Why did you warn me?" "Michael, I only wanted you to be aware that they will try to act against you, once you are Joined, their laws bind them to protect your position ... and that equates protecting you." "But the Joining also binds me to them and their laws," Michael
voiced with a frown. "Isn't that what you wanted--an equal balance between you both?" "But not this way--it's wrong ... it grants them more power over me!" Michael
stated hotly, then looked uncomfortable and a bit sheepish under Avonna's measuring glance. "It rankles me to give in to them," he added honestly. "Oh, so young Michael, you must learn to win without winning," Avonna laughed as she selected a peach from a plate of fruit. "Speaking of, have you landed Kesa's young man yet?" "Michael, I am not some animal on the hunt stalking wayward prey!" "Verily, an animal doesn't have status and a holding." "I'm just a simple matron trying to pass on her modest estate to her child," Avonna said, adopting a light shrug of her shoulders. "And the moon can birth a litter," Michael said as he quickly ducked a thrown peach. "Your modest estate has almost tripled in size and I've heard some of your dealings with various Lords. If Davin wanted to be Overlord, all he'd have to do is handfast to you." "He loves you, not me. How are the preparations going?" "How anyone keeps from strangling their love before their mar... Joined, is a mystery to me," Michael voiced with an air of frustration. "I thought the plan was not to go before the Great Council," Avonna said then chuckled. "Ah, the passions of true love." They laughed for a bit before Michael explained, "It's just that everyone is talking of flowers, colors, food, which guest to seat where, the order of the banners in the Great Hall, what music to play--and those are Davin's Council. They're sane, competent Councilors one day and then they're babbling idiots! But it's not just them--it's the townsfolk as well, and even the armsmen!" "Well, they have a right to be happy and involved. Davin would have had a mutiny if there would have been another year without a tax reprieve," Avonna said as she bit into another peach. "What do you mean--another year without a reprieve? Davin trades at Sarden, like everyone does." "Michael, there are levels of taxation that all depend on station: A Lord had a set tax to meet as well as a Royal, King Queen or Consort. But for those who have a Heartsworn, the tax is lessened considerably." "Wait a minute--you're telling me that I'm a tax-cut?" "Now, Michael--you know that Davin loves you," Avonna began. "You must have studied old tax records and laws--didn't you realize this?" "No, I just thought that it was a way to enrich each new ruler," Michael answered as he saw Avonna fuss angrily with a loose sleeve. "What? Michael, you don't have to keep running away from the idea of Davin's love," she stated as she saw the frozen look on his face. "I'm not, Avonna--I mean, it's not that ... I have to go," Michael said, rising and kissing her cheek before leaving. "Thank you." Avonna stared at where Michael had been and then frowned. 'Thanking me...for what?'
***** Davin entered the room, the door still vibrating from banging into the wall. "Just what do you think you are doing?" Michael looked up at him and saw the tightened jaw and the ice-blue eyes. "I think I'd better hear just what you mean by that," he said with a brow raised. "This, is what I mean," Davin said as he flung a small bag down on the desk. A small, grainy cloud of crimson flakes surged up out of the drawstring closure. "Oh, the dye came," he observed as he went back to his interrupted reading. Davin angrily reached over, tore the book away and threw it against the wall. "Yes, the dye--the very costly and heavily priced dye...all just for a shirt? Michael, only one Royal has a surcoat made from this dye ... and that would have drained his coffers if he hadn't found a new lode of gold that season! I refuse to have my kingdom beggared for vanity!" Michael rose so fast his movement knocked back the chair that he had been sitting in previously. "I see...YOUR kingdom won't abide MY pettiness? Look at this!" Michael flung a scroll at him. Davin fumbled with it as he unrolled it and then seethed. "A list amounting to the tax break of having a Heartsworn? You think this allows your extravagance?" "Look at this, Lord Almighty," Michael sneered. Davin was about to respond in kind, but was stilled when he saw what Michael handed him. It was an agreement from the Weaver's GuildMaster to pay to Michael a sum of thirty Rials next season. "Thirty Rials," Davin breathed--a Rial was the highest coin in the Lands. "How could he afford to pay you this amount?" "I sold him an idea--a new product that he's producing...buttons," Michael stated and explained 'buttons' to him. "He'll make them from varied material for any range, from farmer to Royal. My price was a cut-rate on the dye, which brought the sum down to thirty Rials." "But how are we to trade for that material?" "That's where the dye--and the shirt--comes into play. Now here's what I thought..."
Michael paced in the study as Council gathered. He nervously smoothed down a fold of crimson cloth and then ran a hand through his hair. Lord Cedrin was the one that he needed to concentrate on. A sickness had overcome a good portion of his miners and he was here to petition aid. Cedrin had turned his sappers to the task of sealing up the shaft that the foulness came from and working the mine, but they could not get enough ore to meet taxes with the small crew of sappers. He had left the study door ajar and he now heard Blaine's voice, "This way, Lord Cedrin." He ghosted behind Lord Cedrin's retinue of advisors and moved around the table to his own seat as Lord Cedrin joined the Council. He greeted other Council members and bowed a bit more deeply to Lord Cedrin as Cedrin's steward rose and stated Lord Cedrin's request. Suggestions and people that could be spared were bandied about back and forth until a lull in the conversation opened. "Let us hear your views on the matter," Lord Cedrin stated more as a command. "Well, Lord Cedrin, I believe it would be generous of you to give employ to the Weaver's Guild--they have their dyes cast and wool carded, so they are idle and they are of a number to be sufficient for your needs," Michael said, having held back and let almost everyone at the table have their say. He hoped that the lord would be so used to granting requests to those of his House color that he'd easily acquiesce. If not, then Davin would pitch his second plan. "Master Blaine, what do you say?" "Me, my Lord?" Blaine asked, as if he hadn't thought he would be called upon. He thought for a bit and then raised his head. "I do think that the Weavers are of the best in number..." "But?" Lord Cedrin asked, leaning closer over the table. "Well--that is, I know that Lord Antrellon's Foresters have had a light season. They are of lesser number, but they would be better skilled--an ax to a pickax is similar, the only difference is the target." "See it so--I trust to your judgment, Blaine," Lord Cedrin said warmly as he rose, his bow acknowledged Davin as he turned his eyes to Michael. His eyes were void of emotion, but Michael saw a small twitch at the corner of his mouth as he looked away and spared an envious glance at his crimson shirt. Lord Cedrin's steward and guard trailed out after him, but not before the steward cast a smug look at Michael. Blaine just looked at Michael while Davin just looked sickened as the Council broke for lunch. They had gambled and lost. Davin wondered how he could pay out the GuildMaster, and his mind was franticly spinning as he noticed Michael slumped into his chair in defeat. Distracted so, it took Davin a few minutes to realize that Michael was...laughing. "I can't believe that that worked," Blaine said slowly, as if to speak of it would retract events. "If you want to unsettle a bull, throw a red flag in his face," Michael chuckled as he rose from his chair...and was pushed back into it by a pair of hands. "Why did you let me think we'd lost?" Davin hissed out, each word paused by gritted teeth. "Uh, Blaine--would you excuse us for a moment?" Michael asked nervously, not seeing that Blaine was already skittering for the door. He felt Davin's hot breath as he mumbled a few words. "What was that?" Davin asked, hotly. More mumbled words followed. "Michael?" He growled. "I didn't know if it would work or not," he stated in a low voice. "What?" Davin asked, dumbfounded. "I didn't know if it would work!" "I heard you the first time--I just didn't believe it." "I had three plans laid out, each one would gain us the ore, but not in so timely a manner as the plan Blaine suggested." "Why have..." Davin began, but stopped as he figured it out. "You were the enemy, the 'red flag' taunting the bull. You goaded him on purpose--the shirt made you seem a vain, petty usurper to him. My ideas would be seen as being influenced by you, so Blaine was the only one he could turn to for impartiality yet be close enough to see his suggestion empowered," Davin said as a new light entered his eyes, yet he didn't move his hands. Michael met the look and knew he'd have to miss Anton's lesson. "I think someone needs to be stripped of their power," Davin said silkily, his fingertips brushing up and down the shirt's laces. "But Council..." Michael began breathlessly. "Won't be reconvened for at least a span or so."
"Your turn, Michael," Council Master Braxton pointed out as his eyes never moved from the gaming board. Michael nodded--his eyes scanning the remaining pieces on the board--and tried to keep his mind on Braxton's more obvious gaming. Since his arrival, the Council Master had been a congenial guest... and that was making Michael incredibly irate. Since the visit by Lord Cedrin, he had become terse with the servants and the seamstresses, Councilors, Blaine and Davin. Those in service took it stoically while the Councilors joked about nerves and Joining jitters. Michael disliked how waspish he was becoming--especially with Davin--and he knew that Rossa and the armsmen were bearing the brunt of him trying to wear away his agitation. His rides were increasing in length and the sessions with the armsmen wore himself into exhaustion. "I hear this new venture of yours is drawing vast interest." "So it would seem, but the GuildMaster is in charge of it now." "Still, it is a remarked and useful undertaking; it is rare to craft such a project into the trade market without causing unbalances." "That was why I gave the project to the GuildMaster," Michael responded, moving a piece forward. "It is good to see that you are not one that overreaches himself," Braxton stated simply as he countered, moving his Master forward. "I know my limits, Council Master," Michael replied matter-of-factly, but not saying just what those limits were. "Plan can always go awry." "Yes, they can. I approve of you, Michael--you could be a valued member in our group." 'Or a liability if I don't follow along with what the good ol' boys want?' Michael thought to himself as he advanced a general. "Yield," Braxton said, as he moved a piece forward and trapping Michael's Royal. "Quarter," Michael said after he scanned the board and realized that he couldn't free his piece. "Done," Braxton said as he rose from his chair, "Blaine said you were a fine player." "I hope to get better," Michael replied as he rose and stretched. "I think you are verily formidable as you are," Braxton said as he reached the door and turned back. "The first guests are coming tomorrow, including Davin's kinsman, Erik--are you prepared?" "Blaine has seen to everything, I trust he has events in order." "Blaine is a good man," Braxton assured. "Of that I have no doubt, Councilor."