Varna

We didn't launch an energetic pursuit after our victory. I didn't want to precipitate a battle for Elmina. Let those who'd escaped go there, with time to reflect on their position. Without Merik, could they find a reason to continue fighting? I didn't think so.

Meanwhile, we had friends and enemies to bury, and major decisions to make.

- "You could put the question of Tir Storum before a Council of Nobles." said Sanatha.

- "No." I said. "Better to ask for forgiveness than for permission. Besides, we've already hanged one Tir - what's one more?" We'd hanged Tir Pyera (and Gerdar Candre) in Whydah, for murder and looting.

Sanatha frowned. "We should begin as we mean to continue, Tauma." she said.

- "Storum murdered our father. You think that we should begin our rule by forgiving murderers?"

Sanatha merely looked me in the eye. She didn't say a word, but I didn't need the aether to know what she was thinking.

"I didn't murder Merik, San." I said. "I

executed

him."

- "

I know

." she admitted. "We would never have been safe as long as he or Nathal were alive. I ... I don't blame you, Tauma. I just know ... I probably couldn't have done it."

- "Were we wrong to hang Tir Pyera?" I asked her.

- "No. He murdered Gerdar Corig. And ... mother. And Viken Esin."

- "Why is Storum any different? In my mind, he's worse. He didn't kill just after a battle."

- "I know!" shouted my sister. "I just ... I don't want one of our first acts to look arbitrary - like we're settling scores."

She had a point. We called a council, the night after our victory at Borovo ridge. We didn't include the captured noblemen - Peneda and Kilfa - but I made certain that Durgat and Yazgash were present, along with Enneiros and Alissara. I invited Naevys, hardly expecting that he would attend - but he did.

Gerdar Tanle was there, of course, with Azren, Tir Caenog, Dergun and Ostro. So were my wife, Saska, and my lover, Glasha. I included Osha and Murzosh, as my banner-bearer and new bodyguard, respectively.

- "We have a serious matter to discuss," said Sanatha, "and we wished to consult with you. We've taken prisoners - both in Whydah, and now again at Granje. There may be more prisoners, in future. We have to decide what to do with them."

- "We hanged Tir Pyera and Gerdar Candre in Whydah." I said. "I have no regrets about those executions. I consider them fully justified. But my sister is correct: there will be more decisions that have to be made, in future."

- "We intend to ask your advice." said Sanatha.

- "With one exception." I said. "After the battle here, I acted without asking anyone else for their approval. You may have heard rumours that my brother Merik died of his wounds.

He did not. I killed him

."

There was complete silence among our counsellors. Saska bit her lip. Tir Caenog looked constipated. Yazgash didn't react at all. Dergun only nodded, as if he'd known or suspected that all along.

"I consider that an execution. Merik colluded in the death of my father. He was also gathering allies and troops to seize control of Elmina. I leave it to you to guess what would have happened to my brothers, my sister and me had he succeeded. We have a witness who heard it."

- "I heard Merik say it." said Glasha. There was a little ripple of gasps among the council members. Many of them knew of her time walks, and had seen how we benefitted from her magical skills.

- "Now," said Sanatha, "we meet to decide the fate of Tir Storum. We do not seek to punish him because he supported my brother Merik. But Storum ordered the killing our father himself. He also concealed the Duke's murder from his children."

- "I heard Tir Storum say it." said Glasha.

- "I want Storum to hang," I said, "just as Pyera did - and for the same reason. What say you?"

Sanatha and I hadn't planned it this way. But we were discovering an approach that might work for us in future. I would be the harsh disciplinarian, the uncompromising, more ruthless half of the equation. Sanatha, then, could be the voice of moderation, of reason, willing to listen and find a solution acceptable to all.

I would become the iron fist - Sanatha would be the velvet glove. We weren't necessarily those things in private, but in public, we would adopt those roles.

Caenog, Azren and Ostro were uncomfortable with the idea of hanging a Tir. Tanle and Dergun were prepared to support us.

Durgat, Enneiros and Alissara were more hesitant to vote for a death sentence for a human. Yazgash's facial expression was very expressive, but she held back, for the same reason.

It was Naevys, the fey, who came to our assistance.

- "Pardon me, Lord Tauma and Lady Sanatha.' he said. "I am not so familiar with human customs. Is it acceptable, to forgive murder among you?"

That was, to all effects, the end of the discussion. Except for my sister.

- "I need to face him." she said.

- "I don't."

- "I need to know, Tauma." she said. "Whose idea was it? Who was the instigator?"

I went with her, partly to protect her, and partly because I was curious to see if she would be able to get the answers she sought.

It was getting dark. Storum sat at the base of the ridge, his hands and feet tied, with three half-orcs keeping watch over him. Tir Storum looked as he always had, with his thick head of hair and bristling mustache.

- "Ha!" he said. "Come to gloat? Or is it that you need something from me? My help in capturing Elmina?"

- "Only the answer to a question." said Sanatha. "Whose idea was it - to kill my father? Yours, or Merik's?"

Tir Storum looked from her face to mine, and then back again. His brows were furrowed, as he considered the possibilities inherent in his answer. The hint of a smile played at the edge of his mouth.

- "Why would I tell

you

?" he said.

Why had I never seen this side of the man before? Growing up, he'd seemed to be the Duke's right-hand man, a figure of tremendous significance, and perhaps the second-most important man in Varna. He was no leader, though - just a moderately handsome man occupying a position of authority. His ambitions were petty and self-serving, his scruples non-existent.

- "This is a waste of time." I said.

- "It was Merik." he said, in a rush. "Merik talked us into it."

- "Us?" said Sanatha.

- "My men and me." lied Storum. He and his men did not constitute an 'us'. He gave orders; they carried them out.

Sanatha asked again, but he retreated to blaming it all on Merik. Was he protecting his sister, Shurkka? It didn't matter. San and I both knew that our brother was a creature of impulse, incapable of long-range planning.

We hanged Tir Storum just outside the village of Granje.

***

By that time, we had recovered most of Merik's guns, the powder, and the cannonballs. Our army marched south, towards Elmina.

There were three ways into the city that I knew of. First, we could persuade those holding it to surrender. Or, we could assemble the cannon we had, and batter the walls at their weakest point. The third option was a surprise attack, preferably under cover of darkness, using a route that I'd taken more than once (with Glasha). If two people could sneak into Elmina, I suspected that ten - or twenty - could also do it.

We were still more than a day away when a small party approached us. There were 15 of them, on horseback. They dismounted, and led their horses toward us.

- "I am Gerdar Orchir." said their leader, a stout, balding man with a florid complexion. "I offer my submission, Lord. My sons and I ... we regret supporting your brother. Could you accept us into your peace?"

- "Did you know that Merik and Storum murdered our father?" I asked him.

Orchir's reaction seemed genuine enough. It was composed of equal parts of surprise, shock, fear, and disgust. His sons seemed to share his feelings.

- "You are welcome, Gerdar Orchir." said Sanatha. "We wish that we hadn't had to fight these battles at all. But it is comforting to have you on our side, now."

We continued our march on Elmina. Another thirty of forty men came in, to offer their submission, or their belated loyalty. Some feared that we would exact retribution on those who had fought against us; others hoped to avoid confiscation of their lands.

When we finally approached the city, we were met by a delegation of notables. One was a veteran of Tir Storum's Guard, while another was Tir Alit's only son. He was barely old enough to shave.

- "We are prepared to surrender the city to you, my Lord." said Alit's son.

- "Prepared?" I said.

- "We have a few ... requests." I could have sworn that he was about to say 'conditions', only to choose a different word at the last moment.

- "Go ahead." I said.

- "Will you ... seek to punish those who fought against you?"

- "We do not." said my sister. "Were we to punish everyone who did not join us, that would be four fifths of Varna. You may open the city to my brother and me, and trust to our clemency."

Sanatha and I had agreed on a policy of forgiveness and reconciliation. I'd executed two Tirs, a Gerdar, and my own brother. We needed to send a clear message to those who had fought against us that we weren't going to seek retribution.

The boy nodded. "There have also been rumours ... that you intend to take hostages from noble families."

- "They are just that - rumours." said Sanatha. "We have no such intention."

- "Thank you, Lady. I shall tell my father what you've said. How do you wish to proceed with the surrender?"

The rest was simply a matter of details.

Tir Alit, Gerdar Khuter and their troops, along with the rest of the men who'd escaped from the battle, came out of the city, and stacked their weapons before marching past Sanatha and me.

The noblemen stood before us, and went down on one knee to swear fealty.

- "Your son represented you well, Tir Alit." said Sanatha. "You should be proud of him."

- "Thank you, Lady Sanatha. I could wish that his sire was wiser, though."

I bore Tir Alit no ill will; he was a southern Lord, and related by marriage to his powerful neighbour, Tir Peneda. It was quite natural that he had aligned himself with Merik and Storum.

Gerdar Khuter was more difficult to like. He was a friend of Nathal, and had escaped from both the battle at Whydah

and

the battle of Borovo. That might be simple coincidence ... or it might not.

The remaining soldiers of Storum's Guard also surrendered. There would be time, later, to go over their names on an individual basis. Yazgash and Enneiros knew many of these men very well. Some of them might soon be seeking other employment.

Once the formalities had been performed, Sanatha and I marched part of our army into the city. The fey had already made themselves scarce; Alissara's elves also chose to remain outside. But Durgat and the Red Knees were delighted to stage a short victory parade through the streets, so that he could show his people the barracks where he'd served - and where some of his folk might take their own places in future.

I kept Yazgash and Enneiros close to us, with their companies. For now, they were the only ones I fully trusted to guard the Palace - and its occupants.

***

There were a hundred matters that Sanatha and I had to decide. We'd discussed a few of them, on our way to Elmina, but neither of us had wanted to count our chickens before they hatched - that is, before we were in control of the capital.

There were no more armies in the field against us. Many of our enemies were dead, and quite a few of our former opponents were prisoners. It was time to forgive and release them - but also to make clear to everyone the new state of affairs in Varna.

It was time for a Great Council.

We'd sent word to Whydah about our victory at Borovo, and then again when we took possession of Elmina. Now we sent writs to all the nobles, summoning them to attend.

Meanwhile, Sanatha and I hammered out an agenda, assisted by our inner circle: Glasha, Saska, Gerdar Tanle, Yazgash and Enneiros. On some occasions we included Durgat, and then we extended the circle to include Gerdar Dergun. He was a man of integrity and intelligence, and simply too valuable to exclude.

We held larger meetings, with our allies Tir Caenog, and Gerdars Azren and Ostro. We didn't want them to feel left out, so we consulted them frequently. I just didn't feel the need to take their advice as often as I did Tanle's or Dergun's.

There was time for other business, as well. It was Glasha who brought another matter to our attention.

- "Renna." I said, when Glasha ushered her into our meeting chamber.

- "You poor thing." said Sanatha.

- "I'm sorry." I said. "We shouldn't have left you behind." We had fled Elmina in haste, after Nathal's attempt on my life. I remembered to send for Sirma, and Seyamka, but I hadn't really thought of my father's mistress.

- "Thank you, Lord." she said. "To tell the truth, I probably wouldn't have gone with you. I didn't know until later that ... your father was dead."

- "What happened to you?" asked Sanatha.

Renna wasn't proud of it, but she wasn't ashamed, either. Merik had taken her to his bed, rather forcefully. After a few days he had given Renna to Tir Storum, as a reward - or perhaps in fulfillment of some agreement they'd made.

- "That's over." I said. "You can choose your own course, now."

Renna gave me a rueful look. "I know what I am, Lord. A rich man's mistress."

- "Unless you could be something else." said Sanatha.

- "Lady?" My sister had piqued Renna's curiosity.

- "There will be more women in the Palace, from now on. Me. Lady Saska. Glasha. Young Sirma. We will need more servants assigned to ... female concerns. And, of course, someone to organize and supervise them. A chatelaine, I believe, is the correct description."

- "Me, Lady?"

- "You, Renna."

Lest it seem like a purely generous act on my sister's and Glasha's part, I had my own interest in the matter. Renna had been in a position to see which soldiers - and which servants - had been closest to Merik and Storum. I wanted them weeded out.

Sanatha and I were prepared to reprise the roles we'd played in Whydah. She would be the kind ruler, always ready to lend a sympathetic ear. I would be the stern one, delivering the bad news whenever necessary.

- "But I don't think that we should play those parts

exclusively

." she said.

- "Agreed. You can be harsh, from time to time, and I'll find opportunities to be gentler and more considerate."

- "Are you sure about this, Tauma?" Sanatha asked me, for at least the fourth time.

- "Partners, we said."

- "I know, but ..."

- "You're better than me, San, in many ways. You could do this alone, if you had to. And the best thing about you? You didn't

expect

to rule. This isn't something that you saw as your birthright."

- "The same could be said of you."

- "Some of it. You have fewer flaws than I do."

My sister smiled, and gently pushed my shoulder with her fist.

"Ready?"

- "Ready."

Fifty days after taking possession of the capital, we were prepared to host our first - and tremendously significant - Great Council. We'd cleaned up Father's great hall, and prepared it for this event.

We collected my lovely bride. With my wife on one arm, and my sister on the other, we entered the hall.

There was a raised dais at one end of the hall - not so that we could tower over everyone else, but so that they could see us without having to stand up, or crane their necks. On this platform were three chairs: a large chair in the centre, with another of equal size to the right of it. The third chair was slightly smaller, and had been placed six inches further back than the other two.

Saska, Sanatha and I stepped onto the dais, and took our places. I stood before the central chair, with my sister on my right, and my wife on my left. Saska sat down, since her part would come a little later.

We looked out over the crowded hall. Our allies were there, along with their immediate families. So were the families of every Tir and every Gerdar in Varna. There were absences, of course: 5 Tirs had died in our civil war, and 4 Gerdars. One Tir had fled the Duchy, and another was still suffering from his injuries: Tir Peneda's broken hip made it painful for him to stand, or to sit.

We let the assembly see us, let them take in the sight, and allowed those who could not refrain from commenting the chance to exchange a few words with their friends.

I raised a hand, and waited for silence.

- "We give thanks," I said, "to the Gods and Goddesses who provided us with aid during this bloody war. Many who perished should still be alive, to share this day - but the conflict is over. There is no need for anyone else to die."

I looked out over the faces in the hall: friends, allies, and quite a few people that I did not know, but would have to come to terms with.

"I claim my father's title." I said. "I claim to be Duke of Varna by right of succession, and by force of arms. Does anyone here dispute my claim?"

There was a slight stir in the hall. No one said a word, but I had directly challenged them - were there any here who were tempted to contest my assumption of power?

- "Then I am the Duke of Varna." I said. And the thing was done. I sat down on my throne.

Sanatha took a step forward.

- "I claim my father's title." she said. "I claim to be Duchess Regnant of Varna by right of succession, and by force of arms. Does anyone here dispute my claim?"

That created a considerable stir. The more perceptive members of our audience might have recognized that I had made no move to speak, or to oppose my sister's assertion. Perhaps they understood the significance of the matching thrones.

"Then I am Duchess of Varna!" shouted Sanatha. She sat down.

That was my cue to stand up again.

- "When my father insisted that all of his sons marry - all at the same time - my sister and I tried to understand what he intended. We will never know; that secret went with him to the grave. But Sanatha and I feared that it would lead to contention among our brothers. That was when we agreed upon a partnership: my sister and I would stand together, and decide

together

which candidate for the succession we would support."

At that point, my wife stood up beside me.

- "I am the Duchess of Varna." said Saska. "Truly, though, I am the consort of the Duke. I will do my best to serve the interests of the people of Varna, and to provide you with heirs, but I happily cede the true title of Duchess to my sister, Sanatha."

This was a significant concession, and my wife and I had talked it over several times.

- "Are you sure?" I asked - for the fourth time.

- "I understand, Tauma. One of our children may be the next Duke of Varna - or even the Varyan. But I will succeed my mother in my own right, and I will choose my own heir."

- "But -"

- "You've done everything I hoped you would, husband. More, even. The matter of titles and honorifics seems a minor matter, next to what you and Sanatha have accomplished."

Saska sat down, while Sanatha stood up again.

Yes, it was a bit hokey, but we wanted it to be absolutely clear, so that when it was repeated outside this hall, the basic facts would be correct.

- "My brother and I will rule this Duchy together. As partners." said Sanatha.

- "As equal partners." I added.

- "And we promise not to repeat the tragic error our father made. We will openly declare our heir, so that no one has any doubt what will happen if both us should die in untimely fashion." Sanatha raised her hand.

Glasha came out of the audience, and led little Sirma onto the dais. It was Glasha who had gone back into the Palace, the night of our escape from Elmina, to find Sirma and bring her to safety. It was only fitting that she help present her now.