A Match For The El Maiens Ch 00 Prologue

Copyright © 2015 Naoko Smith

This is a re-edited version of the Prologue. Thank you so much everyone for the very very helpful feedback, which I'm working hard to take on. (I know the names of characters need working at -- I need to have a really hard think about those.)

All the chapters for this novel have been written already and I'll be posting them regularly. I am looking for critical feedback so please leave comments for me. Thank you! (Diolch.)

NB There's an earlier story I've posted on Lit which takes place before the action in this one, called

An Honourable Slut

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Light spilled over the huge polished table littered with papers. No air moved in the green velvet curtains draped at the long windows though the windows were flung wide open. The dark wood panelling of the walls, the low ceiling smoky from candle-lit conferences going on into the night seemed to increase the weight of the hot humid atmosphere, to press the distressed faces of the long-haired council clerks into frowns and scowls and force their clashing voices into shriller and more anguished tones.

Lord Pava el Maien van Sietter, Privy Councillor and King's Representative for Foreign Affairs, sat absolutely still. His chin was in one cupped hand, his other arm lay negligently over the back of his chair. His long thin body in its flowing green robe looked relaxed but his cold grey eyes in his aristocratic close-cropped head were fixed to the man sitting opposite him.

General-Lord Esha el Gaiel van H'las had pulled back his chair from the table as if to separate himself physically from the hysterical frenzy of the clerks. He wore a red robe but was clearly a soldier: broad and bluff with short greying hair, a neat beard and gentle brown eyes.

Lord van Sietter felt an almost intellectual interest in what van H'las' next move might be. He knew van H'las could come up with tactics in politics as great as those he demonstrated in warfare. He had good cause to know how great a tactician van H'las was in warfare.

General-Lord van H'las suddenly stood up. He thumped one fist on the table, making jugs and glasses jingle. The council clerks slowly fell silent.

"We cannot talk here," van H'las said, looking intently into the motionless pale face opposite him.

van Sietter removed his chin from his hand and said to a footman: "Fetch two chairs."

They walked through the long windows into the brilliant harsh sunshine outside. They sat down where no one would overhear them, in the middle of the long green palace lawns, at some distance from the sandy paths and neat hedges. The garden had been cleared of the large numbers of staff who maintained perfectly clipped lush lawns in the baking heat of summer at the palace. The long-haired clerks clustered in the windows in their dark robes, staring. The two aristocrats sat side by side in the hot sunshine heedless of the extravagance of the fresh green lawns.

van Sietter and van H'las had met in this way seven times. The bitter war they had fought had ended in stalemate. Since then, they had over-taxed merchants until it was cheaper to travel to court by a route twice as long as the one through their lands. Merchants right across the country were trying to work out what they wanted and begging the council clerks to give it them.

van H'las said bluntly, looking with frank clear eyes into van Sietter's face: "Let us bind our families with a tie."

van Sietter raised one eyebrow, staring coldly away down the hot empty green lawn. "I have come here willing to discuss a mutual lowering of taxes," he said.

"How long would such an agreement last?" van H'las asked. He opened his arms and stretched his hands out to van Sietter. "Let us give the merchants a guarantee of the goodwill that should lie between our lands. We are one body, el Maien. My port is the left hand, your Maier Pass the right hand to our prosperity. Let us bind our families closer."

van Sietter turned to look at him from a completely expressionless face. He did not seem to understand what van H'las was hinting at. van H'las frowned, impatient that van Sietter was being slow when there was so obvious a tie they could make between their families.

"I have one son," van H'las went on. How much more did he have to say? van Sietter was still staring blankly at him. "He is my only child, the future sworn Lord. Commander of an H'las troop, a fine boy, intelligent ... sweet-tempered." He gritted his teeth at this disgusting necessity to describe his own Vadyan as if his son were some horse he were selling to the dealers.

van Sietter said: "Do you want me to place my son in his troop?"

van H'las said angrily: "You forget that I know Lord Clair el Maien. I saw him come to court to plead with us for peace. I know it well that he is a Commander himself. I am not seeking to insult you by asking him to serve under my son!"

van Sietter said: "I did not mean my oldest son."

"You have another son?" van H'las asked in surprise. "If you have a younger son .... Is he commissioned? In what troop?"

van Sietter sat silent by his side then said, "my sons are both former officers of Fourth Sietter." van H'las scowled at the mention of this particular troop. "My younger son's current designation is ... privy." van H'las' eyes flicked in puzzlement. van Sietter's grey eye turned with his habitual cold expressionless stare in it. "You are not asking for one of my sons to be placed in your son's troop," he stated.

"N-no," van H'las said hesitantly. "I am asking, I am thinking .... I have not yet sought to arrange a marriage for Vadya."

van Sietter's eyes opened wide then suddenly he laughed. "Sweet Hell!" he exclaimed, his face lit up in the sunshine. This suggestion pleased him far beyond what van H'las had expected. "Of course. Dear Anastelle, the flower of my family's honour. Angel of Grace! Well .... Do you know much of her? My daughter. The daughter of the el Maiens."

"I came to the child's Angel blessing," van H'las said, eyeing van Sietter mistrustfully. "My wife was, um, Lady el F'lara's cousin." He turned his eyes away in embarrassment.

Lord van Sietter's first wife had been a famous beauty: a Northern heartbreaker with exquisite slanted dark blue eyes, a creamy magnolia petal face and a mouth bunched like a rose-petal. van H'las knew that van Sietter's oldest son had inherited his mother's beauty; he had seen him in the King's Council on his knees to plead for peace. Commander-Lord Clair el Maien had lifted a face back then twisted with an agony that was made the more appealing by heartbreakingly lovely Northern features. They still said of him that he was the most desirable man at court.

van H'las was wondering if the Lady Anastelle el Maien also favoured her mother. That would be some consolation to his own son for not getting to choose a bride. His son was a gentle and dutiful young man who would do everything to make a happy marriage with any woman his father put up to him for the sake of the region. He deserved something in return for his good heart.

van H'las hoped the Lady Anastelle only favoured her mother in face. The former Lady van Sietter's scandalous love affair was still the subject of gossip in court circles. Lord Clair also had a reputation but van H'las had never heard gossip about the daughter of the el Maiens. He hoped she was the kind of modest young Lady who would suit the el Gaiels van H'las. He cleared his throat and said: "I suppose ... the Lady Anastelle el Maien must be a lovely young woman now?" His voice faltered in question.

"Mm ye-es." In that brief moment, van Sietter's face had smoothed out from an irrepressible grin of triumph. van H'las had missed van Sietter's silent laughter but he eyed his fellow Lord uneasily. "I prithou pardon me," van Sietter said. "My delicate flower Anastelle and your honourable son. What a charming solution to our problems. The betrothal can be formally announced at our old family home, my son's residence."

"You and the Princess van Sietter will not announce it at your new palace in Arventa?" van H'las tried to prevent what might be needless suspicion from creeping into his tone of voice.

van Sietter sat with his expressionless face and his cold grey eyes looking down the hot green palace lawn. He said: "My children and the Princess do not associate."

"Your daughter lives in Castle Sietter?" van H'las asked. "Under the eye of your daughter by marriage?" He tried to prompt van Sietter into telling him more about the girl. "She prefers a quiet life in your son's home to ... to attending parties with the Princess?" van H'las felt a pang of hope for his son's chances of happiness. A young woman who preferred to live in the Sietter Hills with Lord Clair's wife, the honourable Lady Arianna el Jien van Sietter -- perhaps helping to manage her brother's household -- would be a bride van H'las could put up to his son with complacent pride. Particularly if she were a heartbreaking beauty.

van Sietter was unable to repress an upwards flick of the corner of his thin mouth. He bent his head away to hide the return of his silent grin. "Not exactly," he said, in a voice in which he successfully stifled his mocking laughter.