Tournament of Kings

Prologue: Refreshing News

Varsus had just finished the last shipment reports when the door opened.

Into the tapestried room stormed Reginald, who tossed his cloak onto a nearby chair. Anyone else would have been reprimanded for that; Auga would never have tolerated it. But Varsus was not Auga and had long since given up curtailing Reginald's attitude. At the moment, Reginald's orange hair was a mess, like always, and his scowl was more profound than usual. His hands were in his pockets as he sat down.

He remained silent momentarily, looking out the partially open window at Brisgald beyond. The High Priest had passed through here recently and had been doing a great deal of church business. And he'd taken his share, sure enough. Arranging supplies for Khasmir had been complex. All the tools and demands for protection.

Varsus had been forced to get creative, finding cheaper routes that only burned a little time. But they had done.

"What is it?" asked Varsus.

"I cannot believe we missed the entire war!" Reginald exploded. "Damn our parents for making us go through this!" Reginald was technically the uncle of Baroness De Chevlon. Though he could have been her brother. His parents were cousins to Raynald and were of little prosperity or achievement. They had had children late.

Thus Reginald and Varsus were introduced. Vanion's friendship with Raynald had formed a schism in House De Chevlon. One that grew with Raynald's fame.

"Calm yourself, Reginald," said Varsus. "We have gained valuable experience with the administration of lands."

"Damn the administration, Varsus," said Reginald. "I want to see some action. We've been organizing grain shipments for months. Do you know how often I've had to give money for 'unexpected expenses' to the Thieves Guild? Or the church, for that matter?

"And that bastard Rundas just sneered at me when I asked him for help. Like I was the dirt off his shoes. I hope Raynald guts the bastard when he comes back.

"Meanwhile, your cousin William has gotten all the glory."

"There are many ways to serve one's house, Reginald," said Varsus, filing away the documents. Father had always said that, but Varsus was not like Father. He had been told he took after Uncle Vanion more and began to see why that was said.

Though Varsus was considered a much better fighter. Vanion had never been in an engagement without losing his sword.

"Oh, come on," said Reginald. "You look me in the eye and tell me you aren't disappointed we missed the war."

Varsus sighed. "I cannot.

"I admit, I wanted to prove my bravery upon the battlefield in a full-scale conflict. However, it was not Elranor's will. So, I will content myself with finishing things here.

"There will be another war soon enough." And when that happened, Varsus was not paying those bribes again. Something would have to be done about it, and he made a note to write to Lady Atravain and House Bailey on the subject.

This was ridiculous.

Harlenor was being prevented from conducting a holy crusade by its own church. There were solid gold statues in the Temple of the Gods that became more gaudy and elaborate by the day. Silver and gold were engraved on the very well. And in the meantime, people starved to death in the streets. And nobles who were actually using their time were undercut instead of aided.

Should he write to Rius as well?

No point; that man was an ineffectual fool and corrupt to the gills. He would probably try to use the letter to alert his criminal friends for some benefits. Something had to be done about him as well. There was news Prince Aras was out there, but Prince Aras was always out there. He was a man who was constantly traveling and rarely stayed in any one place for long.