Old Religion

Chapter 4

Max

I weaved my way to the council chamber between maids, footmen and soldiers carrying all types of articles. Tomorrow is my sister's coming of age ball and my mother has been planning the event for months.

Plates, centerpieces, tablecloths, flowers and other objects I had absolutely no idea of their purpose, were in various states or array along the ground floor corridors. The palace staff seemed to be in a frenzy. You hate balls. No I don't, really! Lier.

The golden napkin holders in one of the servant's baskets made an image of her hair flash in my mind. It had been three weeks. No news. No idea of who she was. I buried thoughts of her in the back of my mind, not was not the time to loose focus.

I got to the council chamber door, arranged my posture and fixed my coat. A nervous shiver made its way down my spine, even though I had nothing to be nervous off. I was early. Another morning of tedious... useless... discussion with my father. Don't forget of his disapproving glares.

I knocked twice, opened the door and made my way inside. There were five men seating at a round table with two empty seats and a gangly man scribbling madly in his desk by the corner. The air had a sense of seriousness to it. I had not expected company.

They immediately stopped talking and all but Louis Moreau turned towards me, making me feel self conscious. Louis was a few years older than me, a brilliant strategist, but what he had in brains, he lacked in amiability. I didn't dislike the guy, but I did not like him either, we had a mutual avoidance rule that worked well for both of us. Fib, on rare occasions you dislike him less. I gave them a courteous nod and took my seat next to my father. A map of Sauville was spread across the table and wooden figurines were strategically placed along the map. I tried to memorize their locations.

-" We are almost done with the war council, Your Highness" General Henry Moreau said with a hint of disdain. Guess who Louis inherited his personality from. The man never quite liked me, but then again, I have never met anyone who he has ever liked, with the obvious exception of my father. With good reason.

-" I hope you don't mind the tardiness, I was arranging tomorrow's security plans with Cpt. Gérard." I countered smoothly, I was not about to let them know the king had not required my prescence. My father gave me a pointed look. Earlier that morning he had conveyed me his desire to have no incidents at the ball, handed me a specific plan to implement with the Captain of the Guard. He often gave me menial tasks to maintain the rumors of his totalitarian attitudes at bay, the only person he was fooling was himself. More times than not I disregarded his meticulous instructions and did things my way. Hence my earliness.

-"If we move the 7th Infanterie division to meet the 5th along the Glace River, then we can have the rebel forces surrounded in the north east by the Troupes de Montagne, and in the south by the Infanterie," said Louis without looking up from the map. "It is the best possible strategic movement we could do considering the situational factors." When ever he was concentrated in something, the world could crumble to pieces and he would not notice.

The General gave him an appreciative grunt. Louis took the corresponding wooden figures and moved them into place, then looking up he noticed I had joined them.

-"Your Highness, good morning" he acknowledged with disinterest. His demeanor of 'intellectual superiority' mocking the state of ignorance my father often kept me in. Last attempts at stopping his slow loss of authority.

The king started a conversation with the Minister of Treasury, Lord Rémy, and was promptly joined by General Moreau and a young Captain I had not met before. They started discussing costs and supplies for the troops up north. Turning towards Louis, and making sure the scribe was otherwise engaged in my fathers conversation, I commented in a hushed tone.

-"Is the situation so dire that it requires the mobilization of troops?" I hated my fathers unwillingness to involve me in such discussions, I had no idea it had come to this. His constant disregard of maintaining me informed of such matters made me have to find out from people like Louis.

-"Almost all the north has stopped paying taxes, and the two emissaries sent to Lord Villiers' estate were murdered last week" he informed me quietly. -"The situation deteriorated rapidly in the past two weeks. They are insistent in trying to bring back the old ways." That explained the flurry of soldiers in and out of the palace. I had attributed such movements to the securing of the grounds for the ball, but that was a far more suitable explanation for the enlargement of the guard; and my father's recent spurt of closed door meetings.

"Well, we both know that is not possible." I whispered back. Concern started to awkwardly settle in my stomach.

My grandfather had destroyed the old religion during his reign. He had seen the dark ways of its uses; how it turned a person's soul against themselves and corrupted people into greed for power. Druids had become treacherous individuals, their continued study of the intelligible world and contact with the gods made them selfish and self serving. Disregarding all authority but that of the gods, loosing their sense of service, charging for the giving of aid they were originally meant to do it as a service to their community. Those enlightened individuals no longer seemed to guide the rest into remembering the intelligible world and following the idea of good. Sickened by magic, they were slowly plunging our kingdom into darkness. By the time he found a way to stop them, to rid our land of the influence of magic, my grandmother had lost her life in the hands of one of them.

-"I know," he said sarcastically. Wiseacre bastard. "But this rebellion is about more than just bringing the old ways back. The majority of the druids were northerners, they have always claimed that the veil between worlds is at its thinnest in the north. Their ways the truest, and their souls more aware. What they want back is their power." Louis could be dense and condescending, but this, I could not argue with.

-"Starting with Lord Villiers." I whispered. The king and the rest of the council had moved towards the exit, still engrossed in their own discussion and leaving us behind. The scribe seemed to have disappeared. Sizing the opportunity Louis turned to me and said. -"The king is of the idea that troops and weapons are going to return the North to the fold. There is talk of independence" he whispered hurriedly.

-"That will only loose us the northern territories. We need more than sticks and stones if we want to keep the kingdom united." I agreed. I took a long look at the map and wooden pieces.

-"Your highness... we need the druids back." His steely blue-green eyes stared at me with resolve.

-"No." this I could not agree with. "You are talking treason Colonel Moreau" I whispered irritated.

-"I know there is some reason in you to appeal to..." the itch to punch him in the face became unbearable.

-"No." I cut him off. Breathe. "There has to be another way." I was irked, angry that some small part of me told me that his argument had reason, that banishing the old ways was a mistake. The kingdom had been in silent turmoil since then, crop production on the low, hunger on the rise, sickness spreading. I studied the numbers, the increase in violence, an overall pessimistic morale. We need their miserable spells. If i knew it, Louis had known for weeks, the idea that he may have mentioned this to someone else unnerved me. He would not do that, he knew he could be hanged.

I was glad to a certain level that he had been forward enough to tell me the truth. But there had to be al alternative, and we had to carefully ponder our next moves.

He straitened his back and rose from his seat. Haughty attitude back on and a stiff glint in his eyes, he gave me a small nod. Immediately I stood up, stopping him from leaving.

-"Do not mention this to the king." I murmured. He gave an understanding nod, his eyes conveyed that he had understood my implicit meaning of discussing this later. We joined the group of older men with placid expressions, as if we had been discussing the weather.

This is going to come back, and bite you in the ass.