Umber

Geoffrey explains the politics of the Flaeness to Brin as she puzzles over the ties between Furyondy and Veluna.

“Where would you like me to begin?” Geoffrey asked Brin, as Hadrack appeared settled in for an afternoon’s siesta.

“Oh, I don’t really know,” she confessed. “I barely know anything about anything. Sir Borch mentioned Furyondy, Ratik, and something about Knurl I think – oh, and the North Kingdom? I’ve heard of them all, but as to where they are relative to one another and why they’re important – it was all a jumble to me.”

The paladin nodded sympathetically. “All right, then. First, the geography. Let’s see – yes, this will do.”

Geoffrey reached over and plucked Hadrack’s hunting knife from his belt. The ranger’s eyes flew open when he heard the sound of metal scratching against rock. “Hey!” he cried out in protest.

The paladin smiled winningly. “Think of it as your contribution to a young lady’s education. You can sharpen it later.”

“Don’t you have a piece of chalk or something?”

“No, I don’t. Let me borrow the knife and there won’t be a quiz later.”

Hadrack grumbled but tucked his hands back behind his head. Brin looked with mild surprise from one to the other – she’d never pictured Sir Geoffrey with an impish streak – then turned her attention to the rough map the paladin was tracing on the ground. “We’ll start at Spinecastle – you know where that is, obviously, right up against the easternmost portion of the Rakkers mountain range.” He drew a small circle further north along the shore, across the Rakkers from Spinecastle. “This is Ratik.” Some distance south of Spinecastle he drew another dot. “And here, nestled between the border of the Flinty Hills and the Adri Forest, is Knurl.” He began filling in larger regions, more quickly now. “Southeast of Dunthrane is the North Kingdom, southwest is Nyrond. Further south still, on the southeastern shore of Relmor Bay, is Ahlissa. Furyondy is considerably westward, on the far side of the Nyr Dyv, with Veluna even farther beyond.”

He waited while Brin studied the crude sketch. “All right,” she finally said. “So first, why was Sir Borch so pleased about Ratik and Knurl officially allying with Dunthrane? They seem quite small.”

“Strategically,” he explained, “The Archbarony of Ratik is of interest because they have very cordial relations with the barbarian tribes of the north – factions that, when they choose to be troublesome, have proven troublesome indeed.” He drew a line across the mountains between Ratik and Spinecastle. “Also, although both principalities informally patrolled the mountain passes to keep trade lines flowing, their alliance will permit them to cooperate in the endeavor, further stabilizing the routes and hopefully encouraging more trade in the process. Dunthrane is not a resource rich region, and a steady flow of raw materials can only be to its advantage.”

“I can see that,” she said.

“Finally, there are rumors that agents of the Scarlet Brotherhood have been seen in Ratik, working secretly to undermine the government. Clement’s own intelligence network may be of some assistance in that regard. The Lady Baroness Evaleigh is a noble woman, but she only assumed the throne upon the death of her husband Alain IV and the resulting incapacitation of her father-in-law the Baron, who was gravely stricken almost unto death by the loss of his son. Alain fell leading an army in an effort to retake Spinecastle after Clement, who was Marquis at the time, had been driven out by – ”

“Geoffrey,” Hadrack murmured, eyes still closed. “Brin does have to return to Greyhawk this evening. Perhaps you should confine yourself more or less to the present.”

The paladin looked a little affronted, but cut short his history lesson. “As for Knurl, it was expected that it would declare for Dunthrane simultaneously with Ratik. The Count is Evaleigh’s father, you see. And its alliance is of symbolic importance as much as anything else, although in addition its population is more than double that of Spinecastle and Johnsport, the next two largest cities, combined. For with it, the entire region encompassed by the old Bone March has been reassembled under the banner of Dunthrane.”

“The king has his kingdom restored,” Brin murmured. She returned her attention to the map. “So the ruler of the North Kingdom isn’t pleased with this news?”

Even largely apolitical Hadrack snorted in response to her question, and Geoffrey’s voice oozed sarcasm. “His Righteous and Transcendant Majesty, the Overking Grenell I?”

“You forgot the part about Grand Prince of House Naelax,” Hadrack prompted. “That’s very important.”

“Yes,” the paladin said coldly. “It means we will be all the more pleased the day we see his head on a pikestaff at the gate of his own castle.”

“House Naelax?” Brin asked, confused.

“This much I do know,” the ranger said. “Rumor has it – and by all accounts, very accurate rumor – that Grenell was treacherously instrumental in driving Clement out of Spinecastle originally.”

“And, in his own pathetic way, instrumental in getting it back. Orcs and gnolls for an army,” Geoffrey sniffed.

“And barbarians,” Hadrack reminded him.

“Enchanted barbarians,” the paladin corrected. “Further proof that no human in possession of his faculties will follow the man.”

“Then who are his allies?” Brin asked.

“Allies?” Geoffrey said. “Grenell has no allies. Ahlissa has its covetous eye on his lands. And House Naelax has ever had an evil reputation among the righteous, and not much better among the corrupt. Nyrond’s love of its descendants is no greater than Dunthrane’s, and I’d be hard-pressed to name someone Clement despises more. But Grenell is the titular head of the Hextorian church, which grants him some measure of obedience among its followers.” He looked thoughtful. “Which, I’m beginning to suspect, Clement is working quietly to disrupt. You were right to chastise me on that subject, Hadrack.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“What does it say about your so-called leader,” the ranger proposed, “if you receive better treatment at the hands of a Heironian paladin?”

“Hextorians believe in advancement through strength,” Geoffrey explained. “Often using means too terrible to contemplate, but strength nonetheless. Clement rewards their skill while requiring they reign in their excesses. Grenell offers them little but the mewling princes of House Naelax demanding obedience and protection and succor on the basis of no merit other than an accident of birth.”

“In time,” Hadrack concluded, “they may decide they need a new leader. And Grenell would lose one of his last remaining legs of support.”

“He sounds weak now,” Brin said. “Why doesn’t Clement depose him?”

“I can think of three reasons offhand,” Geoffrey replied. “First, doing so might allow others who wish Dunthrane ill – the Scarlet Brotherhood, Ahlissa, and so on – to assess Clement’s strengths and weaknesses and plan ways to capitalize on them. Second, no war can be waged without losses, and the king may, for other strategic reasons, be unwilling to weaken himself at this time.” Hadrack was trying, but failing, to get the paladin’s attention without Brin noticing. “Finally,” he concluded, “Grenell has serious internal problems of his own.”

“What kind of internal problems?” she asked.

“The Overking would like his pet orcs and gnolls to launch an assault on Ahlissa. They, on the other hand, are still smarting from the recapture of Spinecastle, and are still plotting ways to take it back and, from there, move on to Ratik. Simply put, he can’t control them. Worse still, there is the small problem of Delglath the – ”

Hadrack’s mute efforts to silence him, although still escaping the paladin’s notice, attracted the Jasian’s. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

Geoffrey looked over in time to catch the tail of end Hadrack’s slashing motion across his throat. “Yes? I was just going to tell her about Delglath the – oh.” He fell uncomfortably silent.

She looked from one to the other. “Delglath?” Hadrack closed his eyes again, but his expression was grim, and she had the distinct impression he was trying to avoid her gaze. “Delglath the what?” she demanded.

The paladin sighed and patted her knee. “Oh, Brin, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s too late now,” Hadrack murmured. “You’ll have to tell her, or she’ll just pluck it out of my mind later.” Brin’s face flushed scarlet, as she had been thinking that very thing.

More unhappily now, Geoffrey resumed his narrative. “Grenell’s predecessor, Ivid V, had the minor priest and noble Delglath turned into an animus during the Greyhawk Wars and set him the task of governing the city of Rinloru. You are familiar with the concept of an animus?”

“I’ve heard of them. I’m not personally acquainted with the creation process. It involves generating an undead creature in the usual way and then somehow infusing it with its former intellect. It’s not something encouraged among the Jasians, even those who do actively practice that – aspect,” she sounded mildly disdainful, “of the necromantic arts. The procedure is poorly understood, and far from foolproof. Insanity is a not uncommon result for the subject.”

“And was the result in Delglath’s case,” Geoffrey said gravely. “He christened himself Delglath the Undying, declared Rinloru an independent state, and announced his intention to rebuild the Great Kingdom – with himself as ruler, of course – as a principality of undeath in the name of his divine lord.” He added gently, “The Hater of Life.”

“Nerull,” she whispered, clutching involuntarily at the scar over her heart. “Tharizdun has been so much in my thoughts, I might have forgotten him.”

She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin between them, staring into space until her eyes grew unfocused, still for so long that Hadrack finally sat up and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Brin?” he said tentatively.

“I’m fine,” she replied. “After all, he helped make me what I am today, didn’t he?” Her eyes were hard as she looked at Geoffrey. “Dunthrane will topple this Delglath one day?”

“Rest assured of that, child,” he said earnestly. “When the time is right.”

She nodded. “Perhaps the king will permit me to assist. Then after all these years I can return the Reaper’s – favor.” She shook herself, dislodging Hadrack’s hand in the process, and the ranger retreated to his recumbent posture. Changing the subject entirely, she placed a finger in the empty space immediately west of Nyrond. “What about this big region in between, that you haven’t filled in?”

Geoffrey’s tone was brisk as he replied. “The County and Duchy of Urnst? The County of Urnst is strongly allied with Nyrond, the Duchy with Furyondy. I have not heard the king’s thoughts on this matter, but I assume that for now he is leaving well enough alone. I suspect similar considerations apply to the Shield Lands, here,” he pointed to a spot just to the north of Urnst, “which is currently governed by a paladin of Heironeous, the Countess Katarina of Walworth. Truth be told, I doubt if he intended to stray into Furyondy or Veluna at the present time. But Borch goes where he will and,” he smiled at Brin, “you and your friends’ own efforts to stamp out the resurgence of the cult of Tharizdun may sow auspicious political fruit in Veluna in the long run. In terms of population, Hommlet is a mere speck, but their influence is disproportionate to their size. Also, they suffered greatly during the prior ascendance of that vile cult, and Canon Hazen, the Raoist ruler of the region, is unlikely to think ill of those willing to defend them now.”

“Rao? That name sounds familiar…”

“Your Jasian love of the arcane is showing,” Hadrack scolded. “You really don’t spend much time in religious study, do you? Rao the Mediator, the Calm God, god of Peace, Reason and Serenity. His most holy scripture, The Word of Incarum, teaches that he placed our moons Celene and Luna in the sky as a light opposing the darkness of Tharizdun. His servants as a rule embrace reason and abhor violence, but even they are ruthless in their suppression of the Dark God’s followers.”

She ducked her head sheepishly; she certainly hadn’t known all of that. Then she looked puzzled. “My understanding is that Belvor, the ruler of Furyondy, is a Heironian paladin as well. You would think alliances would be already in place between Furyondy, the Shield Lands and Dunthrane.”

“Katarina is still struggling to take back what has been lost to the demigod Iuz over the years,” Geoffrey explained. “Unless Dunthrane can offer her tangible assistance in this endeavor, she will see no use in binding herself to a distant principality, possibly incurring additional demands on her already thinly stretched forces. As for Furyondy, it has always been a nation of proud, independent people. They were the first to leave the Great Kingdom. I doubt if they are in a hurry to see it forged anew.”

“Nyrond doesn’t seem to have a problem with it.”

“You mean Ardel doesn’t have a problem with it,” Hadrack said.

“It’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

A faint, wicked smile crossed the old paladin’s face. “No principality other than Nyrond will have such a – well-cemented – political alliance with Dunthrane. Unless the king is planning to start a harem.”

Brin’s eyes widened in surprise. She stifled a laugh, and the brittle mood that had come upon her at the mention of Nerull seemed to soften. “Geoffrey,” Hadrack chided him, opening his eyes a crack.

The paladin waved a dismissive hand. “We are all servants with the utmost respect for our liege,” he said soberly. Then he winked at Brin. “A little irreverence will do none of us harm.”

“It’s a good thing you became a paladin,” the ranger sighed. “I shudder to think what you would have been like without any discipline.”

“But the king and Ardel haven’t announced their – intentions,” she said.

“Oh, my no,” Geoffrey replied. “The enemies of Dunthrane are incensed enough that Nyrond is a sympathetic third party. The announcement of the nuptials, when it comes, may lead to war. Therefore, both Dunthrane and Nyrond must be first prepared for war.”

“Not much of a wedding present,” she observed.

Everyone fell silent for a time, then Hadrack asked, “So the political lesson is finished? We can move on to what you were doing at Forestguard?”

“One more thing,” Brin said, ignoring the ranger’s plaintive sigh. “Furyondy and Veluna are close allies, yes?”

“Very close,” Geoffrey confirmed. “They have a nearly organic relationship with one another.”

“So driving a wedge between them could be bad.”

“It could be catastrophic,” the paladin said forcefully. “Belvor was always prideful, and this endless war against Iuz, however noble, has turned him into a bitter old man. Veluna has historically been described as the conscience of Furyondy – its moral compass, as it were. And Canon Hazen, a close personal friend of Belvor’s, has continued the tradition admirably. Furyondy without the restraining hand of the Raoists – it’s difficult to say what it might become. Almost certainly nothing good. It does maintain one of the largest armies in the Flanaess, and Hazen sees to it that it’s used no more than necessary.”

“Interesting. They are…so very clever.” She skimmed her hand across the surface of the water. “What did Sir Borch suspect?” Then she picked up a small pebble and bounced it off Hadrack’s thigh. “All right, I’m ready now.”