Sweet Waters Throne

Chapter 47: Chapter 4

The kitchen wasn’t a place to talk politics nor discreet matters. If there’s one thing Aprophil and Jordy have learned over the years was that walls do have ears and they listen.

Aprophil led the way while his mother followed;

“It was Lord Balrus” said Aprophil.

“Balrus? What did he want?”

“Nothing much... he was just stopping by to see how we are doing”

Jordy wasn’t easily convinced “He never does that we both know it. Tell me the truth...”

Aprophil knew there was no getting away from his mother’s shadow, especially one who was so worried about her son like how his mother was.

.....

“And these lemon cakes... why are you obsessed with them?”

“I don’t know, it must be the taste. A little bit of sugar and the smell of sour”

Jordy sighed “Just like your father. He was obsessed with lemon cakes as so is your brother, Artemis”

“Well I guess it runs in the family”

“We are not a family, Aprophil. No one can know about what I just told you, and you promised me never to tell”

“Calm down mother” Aprophil sat on a chair. He placed his plate of lemon cakes on top of the table and crossed his legs looking at his mother while sipping the honeyed wine.

Jordy, like any woman she had what they call “maternal instincts” especially when it comes to her son. She was overprotective and perhaps she was ought to notice that Aprophil was now a grown man.

“He came to notify me of the upcoming war”

“A war?”

“Between Maldonia and Prophis, he specified it to be a battle between two brothers actually. King Castellan Taelin and Prince Ambrose both from Prophis. However it is Lucian Mithandir who they are supporting to put him on the throne of Prophis”

This was way too much information for Jordy and she didn’t want to stand for it. Hence she sat down close to her son.

“Who’s leading this war?” she asked.

“Artemis with no doubt”

“Did Lord Balrus declare that? Maldonia is huge with powerful houses, a house may declare a war with Prophis but the realm wouldn’t be at war”

“I am not aware of all that mother. Unlike you I wasn’t allowed at court...” Aprophil stood up and walked towards the window.

He unlifted the curtains and looked outside. The sight was just people roaming around the market buying stuffs and having their freedom. Perhaps Lord Balrus was wrong, there is something to be found in Liberty Cities.

The arrival of the three great houses in Prophis made Castellan feel hopeful that he may win the war and take Maldonia. Perhaps this was the wake up call he needed to unleash his power.

They were dreams of such, but one can never condemn a man for simply having a dream. “I can be King of the two kingdoms, ruling North and South. A terrible fate will await anyone who dares to challenge me” said Castellan with hopes and morale for the upcoming war.

The person who stood beside him, Lord Aubrel didn’t seem so convinced that the war was easy. After all it was Maldonia they were talking about not some small kingdom ruled by peasants and beggars.

“It’s Maldonia we are talking about Your Grace” added Aubrel.

“I am aware My Lord”

“And I must assume you are also aware of it’s ten houses and hundred of thousands of men loyal to the realm. Unlike you here, men are divided”

“Divided?” asked Castellan.

“Ever since your father’s death and I mustn’t say this, Your Grace but you are a brother to me. There has been discreet rebels inside the army” Lord Aubrel paused and looked sideways.

They were out hunting and of course escorted by guards and knights but he didn’t want to be overheard by anyone. “Follow me” said Aubrel and raced his horse towards East.

Castellan gave an order to his men to stay put till they come back, even the king’s guards weren’t allowed to follow them.

The horse’s hooves grunted the ice with much force as Castellan raced to meet Aubrel. The land was frozen as usual, however the summer was approaching and the ice was now melting giving way to sand and Earth to take over.

Whilst they were alone Aubrel spoke of a man called Haul. Haul was the general of the Prophisian army who Castellan trusted to be his close confidant and partner – however he wasn’t.

Haul was plotting a twist to slit Castellan’s throat the same way Taelin slit Lucian Mithandir’s brother. To Haul this was an act of revenge, he wanted to avenge his king who was plotted and killed.

Haul was a fifty one year old middle age man and he was there when King Taelin destroyed house Mithandir once and for all. Haul has been spreading hateful words from one tavern to the next.

From one battalion to the next, recruiting more and more men to follow along Lucian Mithandir and joined him where he is.

“Where’s general Haul now?” asked Castellan whose face turned red because of anger.

“I’m afraid he’s left the capital” replied Aubrel.

“What?”

“This is why I didn’t want to speak to you in front of your men. The realm is divided Your Grace. Most people don’t claim you as their king, and this rumour of your brother’s departure to join the Mithandirs... well let’s say it doesn’t look good”

“Ambrose is a cunt! He’s as weak as our sister”

“He maybe Your Grace, but Haul has left the capital with fifty thousand men loyal to him”

Now that’s where Castellan almost fell like he would faint. Things weren’t going so well and it’s been happening behind his back all this time. He felt betrayed and angry at Haul for what he did to him.

“When did he leave?”

“Your Grace?”

“I’m asking you Lord Aubrel, when did he leave?”

“Two days prior Your Grace”

“Then if we gather our men now we may meet him before he crosses Maldonian army”

Aubrel thought this was madness, he didn’t tell Castellan all that so he may go crazy. “This is madness Your Grace, we will not reach Haul and even we did, what will we do?”

“Fight him” replied Castellan quickly without even thinking.

“You mean fight your own men?”

“They are not my men if they chose to abandon me!” Castellan screamed.

One thing that was constant to Castellan was his temper. He threw his sword onto a tree and mistakenly broke it, then he pushed the tree as if he wanted to cut it out using his hands. When he failed, he screamed again.

Betrayal is always bad however it gets worse when you get betrayed just when you needed the help. However Aubrel was there to help Castellan, no matter how difficult the situation was.

“There’s still something we can do. Allies we can form with houses inside Maldonia. My men tells me King Artemis was in a misunderstanding with Lord Gandalf of Old City” Aubrel pulled Castellan up and helped him to his horse. “Have you ever been to the Old City?”

“No” Castellan forced himself to speak.

“Old City is a powerful house with an army of two hundred thousand men, and Your Grace... they have lions too”

Castellan was shocked “They do?”

“I saw them myself when I last visited Lord Gandalf. Believe me they will be expecting us, we must haste to them before Artemis reconcile with Lord Gandalf”

“This Old City, isn’t it in Maldonia? How can we make an ally with a house inside Maldonian borders?” Those were series of questions from Castellan which Lord Aubrel had no time to answer them.

To Aubrel he always believed in the presence of gold, wealth or tits nothing was impossible. Besides Lord Gandalf was a young man who can easily be manipulated.

Hence the next day discreetly and without creating a scene, Lord Aubrel fled the kingdom and made his way to Maldonia – to House Old City alone. He didn’t want to be escorted by his men for fear of drawing too much attention and alerting the enemy.

Lord Aubrel was ready to help his kingdom, and by protecting it also meant he was protecting his sister too. Shall the city fall then the first person they’ll go after will be his sister and his children.

For far many too many years the things Lord Aubrel has seen when he went to fight wars beyond Prophis border terrified him. The losers always suffer the loss in a greater way more than one can imagine.

Women are raped, infants slaughtered and so many horrible things. This war ahead of them seemed hard and perhaps they had already lost it before it even began, but there was a way.

Aubrel wasn’t a person who believed in giving up and surrender. He knows what happens to people who surrender, it would be a shame if a Mithandir sits on the throne of Prophis one more time. This meant even his five daughters would be murdered and his wife too.