The Bell Tolls for Me

After a long and exhausting day tending to the affairs of the Royal Palace and preparing for the impositions of Cesare's mercenary band, Isabella had one final meeting to attend to. She wasn't quite certain what to expect of this one, considering that she hadn't spoken to this man alone in quite a while. He had been on her side helping quietly once she declared the interregnum, but…

Arthur of Hamore stood before her, his hands crossed politely behind his back. In truth, she enjoyed Arthur's company—doubly so that of his mother, Igraine, who tutored Isabella frequently. Nevertheless, after the Archwizard had come to Valerio's estate to inquire about the disease that was afflicting her, she felt it prudent to stay away. She didn't wish to spur further inquiry from the greatest wizard in realm, as she was uncertain that his intentions were entirely benign. Her suspicion might have been Randolph's instincts alone, but he had yet to fail her.

"I'm very curious what it is that you wish to speak to me about," Isabella began.

Arthur stared at her with his stoic green eyes. "When first we met at Edgar II's coronation, there was something very peculiar that you said to me. Do you recall, Your Highness?"

Isabella rubbed out her forehead. She already had a headache from today, and didn't want to strain her mind recollecting. "Remind me."

"You spoke of magic that could manipulate time."

Isabella stopped moving all at once in surprise, then scolded herself for such an obvious display of guilt. "That sounds right," she decided to admit. "And?"

"Ever since my master came to you that day, I've been looking further into what it is that he's been investigating—this disease. And on the course of my investigation…" He took a few steps closer. "Independently of your direction, I found mention of time manipulation."

Isabella cursed her old carelessness. Perhaps she had been in too much disbelief about what was happening to be prudent about what she said and didn't. Now, it was coming back to haunt her.

"I'm noticing that you're not rushing to respond," Arthur said. "I hope you're not going to say that this is some coincidence."

"I assure you, they're completely unrelated. Just like fire and matches," Isabella said with dry sarcasm as she lifted her head and stared him in the eyes. "Oh, very well. I concede. Though… until you brought this first small clue of many to me, I was treating them like they lived on different realities. Silly me."

Arthur raised a brow. "Can you tell me more?"

"I…" Isabella closed her eyes, thinking deeply.

The only other person that she had trusted deeply enough to tell her secret to was Valerio. While there were some that she probably did trust enough to inform, there had never before been a reason to risk divulging that information, that it might spread beyond her control.

Isabella stood from where she sat and pulled on the sash in the room. A few moments later, the door to their chamber opened, and Alice walked in.

"Yes, Your Highness?" Alice said, still vigorous even this late.

"Could you call over Valerio?" she asked. "Inform him that it's an urgent matter."

Arthur stayed silent as Alice bowed politely and left the room. When she had left, Arthur turned to look at her again.

"Why is the Duke of the Isles necessary for this talk?"

Isabella watched Arthur. She didn't necessarily want to disclose this information, but considering the strong relationship that she had with his mother Igraine, she thought it would be best to fold him into their inner circle rather than risk him spreading this information to the Archwizard. She didn't know what the Archwizard intended for her, but she trusted Randolph's instincts enough to fear it.

"Because when a storm is coming, I like to have counsel from a sailor," Isabella eventually replied vaguely.

***

Isabella didn't feel great at all disclosing this highly sensitive information to Arthur, whose loyalty wasn't as solid as Valerio's or Gaspar's. She had no one but herself to blame, of course. Her tongue had laid too many clues for him to follow, and Arthur was an insatiably curious and brilliant man. And his reaction…

"Do you have any idea the number of possibilities that this opens up?" Arthur asked, leaning in toward her somewhat entranced. "Time, not as a constant river, but something that can be bent and twisted. Something that can be as pliable as any other object in the world. Though… I'm getting ahead of myself. We haven't yet established whether or not your displacement is some manner of foresight."

He leaned back into his chair, eyes dancing as he thought. "Perhaps you didn't actually experience that reality, but a sort of… simulation, let's say, that accurately calculated the world. Magic can carry with its countless variables, each of which may give insight on the present state of the world. From there, a simulation could—" he trailed off, something jamming his train of thought. "Though… if that were true, it wouldn't explain the specific wording I found in my research…"

He was viewing it much more as a scholar than anything else. Arthur was, first and foremost, a man of learning. He enjoyed the wonders of magic, and it seemed as though new discovery such as this brought out a childlike wonder that she seldom saw.

"Since I've been forthright, I'd like to ask that you keep this in the room. You're the second person I've told at all, and I would very much prefer it not become public knowledge." Isabella reached forward and put her hands on his wrist. "The very last person that I'd like to receive this information is your mentor."

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"What?" Arthur looked confused. "Why?"

"The reason why I mentioned this to you was to make that request," Isabella said. "I have experience with you. I know, at heart, you're a good person. The Archwizard is an unknown variable with unknown motivations."

"My master is a very benevolent person who rarely engages in any manner of behavior that I would call callous. Indeed, he's quite generous. If this disease you spoke is some manner of affliction—a side effect, for instance—that harms you, his help could be the best we could receive," Arthur argued.

"Please, Arthur. I extended you my trust," Isabella reminded him. "Could you do me the same courtesy? Only once I'm totally certain of what is happening to me do I want to involve others. I have no trouble with involving you in the search for the truth, but let us not expand this web."

After a few moments, Arthur nodded intently. "I'll keep this from him. But… he's very sharp. It'll be quite difficult to do so. Already, I'll assume that he's asking questions about why I'm meeting you today. Despite appearances, I'm learning that he's deeply entrenched in the royal court. He listens, but seldom speaks." He met Isabella's gaze, then added somewhat guiltily, "Still… I'll keep this from him. I swear it."

"Thank you for your understanding, Arthur." Isabella smiled and exhaled in some relief. "Now, though I'm sure you're eager to dissect me immediately, I've had a very long day dealing with mercenaries and all manner of politics. A retirement is long overdue."

"Oh." Arthur rose, straightening his coat. "We have been talking for quite a while, haven't we? I didn't expect to find something that's fascinating. Forgive me for taking your time."

Arthur bowed cordially and left. Once he was gone, Isabella looked toward Valerio. He was staring at her with his arms crossed. She could tell that he had something to say.

"What is it?" Isabella asked.

"You've had a long enough day," Valerio said, moving toward the door. "We'll discuss it in the morning."

"Do you truly believe I'm going to sleep tonight?" Isabella asked. "The first regency council is tomorrow. My head is swimming with all manner of ideas and proposals about what to do. And on top of that, Arthur has now revealed things I would rather keep under wraps. If you leave, I'll merely be tossing and turning on my bed."

Valeria walked up to her and sat where Arthur had been sitting. He chewed on his words for a long time, and then faced her with determination. "I've been thinking about this for a long time, and… I think you should reconsider your course of attack."

"Oh." Isabella was surprised to hear that. "Could you explain?"

"Every day that Cesare is here, trade is interrupted," Valerio said quietly. "My operations are interrupted, and thus, my influence is weakened. He refuses to allow any ships to dock without searching them and taking his pick of the cargo. But this isn't just about me—already, his mercenaries are pillaging the city in all but name. They're forcing people out of their homes to sleep in their beds. They're extorting people for their goods at threat of violence. The local nobles are earning their favor by sending gifts, courtesans—willing or not, I'm afraid to say. And your solitary offer, to Cesare alone… I don't think it'll work. I think it's a mistake."

Isabella knew that the criticism was meant in good nature, but the words still felt somewhat raw on her heart.

"These men aren't politicians raised in noble trappings—they're soldiers occupying territory, and they have that mentality," Valerio continued gravely. "Even if they've chosen to take a benevolent stance, the fact is we're at their mercy. Every second that they're allowed to roam free is another that your authority is undermined, and your regency—just in its infancy—tainted with all of Cesare's misdeeds."

Isabella only listened as Valerio continued.

"Even if you have the best and most practical offer, the fact is, others are winning the favor of the rank and file by engaging in these petty gifts. I'm certain that you could match them bribe-for-bribe, but then you're just playing into Cesare's hands. Moreover, you'd force the other nobility to raise their spending to match with yours. It becomes a vicious cycle, all leading to one end.

"Piece by piece, you'll lose the support of the nobility in the city. They'll resent you for allowing this to continue on unopposed, even if you're not the person responsible. They'll think you weak for allowing it to grow unaddressed. That's what it means when you lead—you take the blame, deserved or not." Valerio leaned in close to her. "I understand that you want a perfect solution. You might be able to turn Cesare against Albert. But in so doing, I think you might lose track of the more important thing—your position as regent."

Isabella took a long and deep breath, and then exhaled. "What would you have me do?"

Valerio stood up and paced around the room, saying nothing for a time. "In matters of politics, I always defer to you. You're better at that game than I am. But in war? In that brutal but necessary field? I'd like it if you could defer to me." He stopped and looked at her. "These men aren't politicians. They've occupied our territory as soldiers, and they'll only leave as soldiers. I'd like you to leave this problem to me, before it bleeds into your arena irreparably."

Isabella lowered her head and fell into deep contemplation. She didn't want to send hundreds of people to their death for no reason… but then, that sort of difficult decision was precisely the one that Claude had avoided making his entire reign. There was no doubt that Valerio was more experienced than her in matters of war. She had never even struck someone with a weapon.

Isabella stood up. "Can you even win?"

Valerio walked up to her, towering above. "You've dragged Cesare into your battlefield—convincingly, might I add. Every day that he lingers there, he wastes time fighting a battle that won't matter. If you can distract him for a while, I have no doubt that I can manage to rally a force sufficient to defeat him." He fixed her hair with one hand, his scarred fingers brushing against her cheek. "Permanently."

Isabella hesitated to give him approval. She stood there silently, debating the matter in her head. Claude had spent his reign ignoring prudent advice, and she didn't intend to make the same mistake. He had irreparably damaged the image of royal authority, allowing countless lesser figures to walk all over him. Valerio was right—what Isabella was trying to do now was a continuation of that style. It would doubtlessly be considered a tremendous humiliation for the crown to submit to a mere mercenary. Her regency would be tarred.

Isabella realized very quickly that there was an emotional impetus to this. She thought that she could use Cesare as the cudgel with which she could enact her revenge on Albert. But Valerio saw things clearly. He understood intimately the sort of people that she was attempting to negotiate with. With a heavy heart…

"I'll defer to your expertise," Isabella said, meeting his gaze.

Valerio didn't smile. His gaze went hard, cold. It seemed to her the eyes of a general given the order to lead men into battle. And when she saw that unfamiliar look on this man she knew so well, she felt certain she'd made the right choice. This wasn't a battlefield that she knew.

"I'll get started, then," he said simply.