Chapter 25
Collapse
Ur-Zadok, Shemesh Dukedom, Zadok
Dread was a feeling Lord Elon was supposed to instill in others. It was not something he was supposed to feel himself. After all, was he not the head of the greatest of the Twenty-Eight Tribes? As the Lord Regent, was he not ruling in the Melek's name over the greatest kingdom in all the world? The whole world ought to fear him, come begging to him on hands and knees for mercy and favor like supplicants approaching their god. Yet here he was, feeling the noose tighten around his neck. And he knew fear.
"We may as well consider Adom lost to us," General Hastati said, "unless you would be willing to commit ten divisions at the very least and I do not think anyone esteems Adom that highly, not even the Adomites themselves. At this rate, the Ostivaris will move on Illyria and cut off our troops in Greland and Elba just as the Aureans are preparing to mount their counteroffensive.
"Redgrave is in open revolt and we are dealing with more and more incidents throughout the tributaries. They can smell the blood in the water. If the local populations follow Redgrave's example, our garrisons will not be able to hold out for long. We will find ourselves facing threats from all sides. We can move troops to put down these uprisings or we can brace ourselves for an Ostivari invasion, but not both."
It was not supposed to happen like this. They were supposed to catch Aurea flatfooted and force them to make territorial concessions in exchange for peace. They could then continue to carve away at their territory until the Aureans bent the knee just as all the other tributaries had done. It was all part of the grand plan to subdue all of Midgart and from there, the world. It was to be Lord Elon's great legacy that would leave his mark in the annals of history. Now he might still leave a mark on history but as one of the blackest names ever recorded.
How did it turn out like this? The Aurean protectorates were weak and vulnerable. Aurea herself was not supposed to have any stomach for a new war. The tributaries had long since been beaten into submission and Ostivar was spread too thin to be a concern. That was how it was supposed to be.
He looked to Sir Tolliver, the emissary of Zadok's mysterious benefactor. It was Lord Elon's uncle the first Melek of a united Zadok who made the pact with this benefactor. There would not be a united Zadok without the benefactor, nor would it enjoy its current power and prosperity. If anyone could turn this situation around, it was the benefactor who made Zadok the great nation it was.
"Sir Tolliver," Lord Elon said, "surely something can be done."
Stone-faced, Sir Tolliver replied bluntly, "Mother is fully aware of the situation and she is not pleased. Her words are, and I quote, 'You have made your bed. Now sleep in it.'"
What was that supposed to mean?
As if to answer the question on Lord Elon's mind, Sir Tolliver said, "No aid will be forthcoming. You must resolve this situation for yourselves if you wish to remain in Mother's good graces."
Lord Elon gritted his teeth. He would have loved to throttle Sir Tolliver where he stood, but he checked his anger. He recalled the warning of his father about their benefactor. They were beyond anything that was human. On a whim they could spill out the wrath of God on the land. It would be nothing to them.
He turned his anger on those within his reach.
"If those fools dare to turn on their masters, we will make them pay. Go, kill the hostages! Every one of them!"
"My lord!" one of the courtiers objected. "We do not know that all the houses have betrayed us. Shall we punish the faithful along with the treacherous?"
"The sin of one is the sin of them all!" Lord Elon fumed. "If they cannot keep order among their own people, they should be swept away so that men of ability might take their place. Gather them at the execution grounds at once! Man, woman, child, suckling babe, spare not one!"
Before men of the Palace Guard could leave to execute the order, a voice said, "Hold."
It was Lord Kurus, Captain of the Guard. Though his authority did not exceed that of the Lord Regent, his men heeded his voice. Lord Elon was so taken by surprise that he was more confused than angered by the interference.
"My good Lord Captain, what do you mean by this?"
Lord Elam of Zered, the Melek's tutor, stepped forward and said, "The hostages will not be harmed. With their lives we will vouchsafe our own."
Lord Elon narrowed his eyes and said, "Lord Elam, you do not have the authority to make such a decision."
"But I do," another voice said.
It was none other than the Melek himself, who had risen up from his throne. All these years and he had never once spoken without being prompted to do so by Lord Elon, so why was he choosing to speak up now? Tempting as it was to shout at him to sit back down and be quiet like a good boy, the Lord Regent checked himself. In open court he had to pay all due respect to the throne or else he would undermine the very base of his power.
Keeping his voice as level and measured as he could, Lord Elon said, "Your Majesty, I am the one who has been entrusted with the administration of the kingdom in your stead."
"Which was clearly a mistake," the Melek retorted. "I am old enough that I have no further need of a regent. You are dismissed from your duties, Lord Elon."
Lord Elon glared at Lord Elam. That treacherous snake. The Lord Regent thought he had the Melek squarely under his thumb, but he underestimated the tutor's scheming. This crisis provided the perfect opportunity. Because Lord Elon was so eager to take the lion's share of the credit for this war, he was now left with the blame.
Still, was he not Aluf of Shemesh? Was he not the father of the late Queen, the Melek's own grandfather? Surely they did not think they could make him the scapegoat so easily. They would not dare.
"I will be inclining my ear to sounder counsel from now on," the Melek said. He then asked Lord Elam, "What do you suggest be done?"
Lord Elam gave a slight bow of his head and replied, "We must disengage our forces in Adom, Elba and Greland. We should attempt to pacify the tributaries, but failing that, we must fall back and fortify the border to stave off any move by our enemies to invade the homeland. We can sacrifice the tributaries if we must, but it goes without saying that preserving the homeland is our highest priority.
"We must move forward with diplomacy even as we consider a military withdrawal. We should dispatch an emissary to Tiberia at once to negotiate with the Aureans."
"You waste your time," Lord Elon said. "The war is just beginning for them. They will not negotiate until they have a bellyful of blood."
"Oh, I think a smaller helping will be enough to bring them to the table," Lord Elam replied, "such as the head of the one responsible for this little... misunderstanding."
"You wouldn't dare," Lord Elon growled. "You kill me and you make all of Shemesh your enemy. And we are not without allies. Do you want us to be tearing each other apart while the enemy is at the gates!?"
"The Tribes will fall in line or they will be cut off," Lord Elam said. "Even if there are any alufim so foolish that they would defy the Melek, I do not think so many of their people will be willing to die for your sake. After all, no tribe was foolish enough to rise up against you when you had Lord Harad executed. Or Lord Milco, Lord Ashur..." He paused, grinning smugly. "Shall I continue?"
It was true that in the years of his regency, Lord Elon had an aluf or two executed, along with dozens of lesser nobles, officials and the like. It was nothing unusual. It was how order was maintained. Nevertheless, Lord Elam's point stood. The Lord Regent may have bought obedience with his actions, but obedience was not the same as loyalty, especially not the sort of loyalty you would be willing to die for.
"Take him away," the Melek commanded.
A pair of Guardsmen promptly seized Lord Elon by the arms.
"Unhand me!" he spat at them.
Of course, they did not obey him.
"Damn you, Kurus! Will you betray me too!?"
"The Melek has spoken," Lord Kurus said.
Lord Kurus was appointed by Lord Elon. The Palace Guard was supposed to be firmly in hand, but again, so was the Melek. The time for concerning himself with appearances had passed.
He shouted to the assembly, anyone who might listen, anyone who might act, "Will you follow a child led about by this, this schoolteacher like a puppy on a string!? Instead of victory and glory, you would choose defeat and dishonor!? You invite Zadok's ruin! Ruin, I say! If you are not of the party of defeat, rise up! Rise up for the glory of Zadok!"
He looked around at their faces. Some were fast in league with the faction of Lord Elam, but most were uncertain, looking to the men to their left and their right. It would not take many. If only a few would muster the courage, the others would follow. Even those who seemed to be in league with Lord Elam would likely join the mob to save their skins. Yet no one acted.
Years of doling out wealth and favors to buy him influence in every corner of the kingdom were ultimately for nothing. When he was most in need of allies, Lord Elon found himself alone. This was how it always worked, though. How many times had he orchestrated the very scene that was playing out now?
"You cowards! You fools! You aren't just killing me! You're killing Zadok itself! Zadok's future will die with me! Zado—"
His tirade was cut short when one of the Guardsmen gagged him. It was a practice he himself had instituted when he grew weary of all the pleas, the curses, the weeping and other nonsense he would have to hear every time someone was carried off. Was this the sort of thing they called poetic justice?
All his struggles were in vain. He would not be long for this world. He regretted what would become of Zadok in the coming days, or else he would have if Zadok had answered his years of devotion with some form of aid in his hour of need. If he was to be betrayed, abandoned and dishonored like this, then Zadok deserved everything that was coming to it.