Behind the Serpent Throne (CK2)
- Thread starter The Laurent
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- Original Fantasy
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Okay, vote closes at noon/one-ish, got it?
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Okay, hour and a half left.
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It's not necessary, but why not? Vote tally?
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Vote Tally : Original - Fantasy - Behind the Serpent Throne (CK2) | Page 45 | Sufficient Velocity
##### NetTally 1.7.3.2
[9] Plan: ◈alfa — Original - Fantasy - Behind the Serpent Throne (CK2) | Page 45
[1] Talk about the Court, but in terms of generalities, trying to steer it in the direction of horse-riding, poetry, and other areas that might interest him, but won't inform him.
-[1] Plan: veekie — Original - Fantasy - Behind the Serpent Throne (CK2) | Page 45
[1]
-[1] Plan: mori — Original - Fantasy - Behind the Serpent Throne (CK2) | Page 45
Total No. of Voters: 11
##### NetTally 1.7.3.2
[9] Plan: ◈alfa — Original - Fantasy - Behind the Serpent Throne (CK2) | Page 45
[1] Talk about the Court, but in terms of generalities, trying to steer it in the direction of horse-riding, poetry, and other areas that might interest him, but won't inform him.
-[1] Plan: veekie — Original - Fantasy - Behind the Serpent Throne (CK2) | Page 45
[1]
-[1] Plan: mori — Original - Fantasy - Behind the Serpent Throne (CK2) | Page 45
Total No. of Voters: 11
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- They/Them
Update'll come Thursday afternoon/evening.
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Oh, uh, wow.
Well, I thought it was going to be on Friday, but I said Thursday, so Thursday it is. I'll go finish writing it...thought I had longer.
Well, I thought it was going to be on Friday, but I said Thursday, so Thursday it is. I'll go finish writing it...thought I had longer.
Turn 3--Results, B
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Turn 3--Results, B
Poetry makes a good start, and Kiralo frowned over the letter for a long time before he began to write. He focused on the philosophical poetry of the southern courts, briefly touching on horse-riding and the importance they placed on a leader who was a 'man on horseback' as the saying went.
Very carefully, Kiralo talked about the philosophical debates, the complex and blurred lines between the general and the ruler that had grown only stronger since the Seventeen Cities had finally exerted their independence from the lords farther south.
It was easy, really, to fill the letter with the correct words, once he was sure what he wanted to say. And what he wanted to say was both nothing and something at once, a delicate balance and one that should be difficult for any man.
Yet, he was good at it, by now, he thought, as he carefully described the debates he'd taken part in, especially in regards to, well, religious philosophy.
There was a point to all of this, though. Prince Jinhai's philosophical positions might indeed matter, and poetry and horseback riding were both good topics to lure out more about who Jinhai was, or at least who he had advising him.
The brush moved carefully down the page, and then back up, line by line.
This was a man who would be overjoyed to see his father dead, and yet Kiralo had to admit that this was weaker grounds than he'd ever thought. There had been moments of spiteful fantasies, the sort of nighttime follies that prayer and sunlight pushed past, of telling his father just what he deserved.
As a young boy he'd entertained them constantly. Now, at the heart of empire, they were what they'd always been: a fantasy.
But in a court like this, fantasies weren't merely for the night.
*****
"And in conclusion," the herald said, his voice booming, the spirits carrying it along as the Emperor watched him, reading a letter aloud to court, "We have begun work on three new forts in the past month, and with the alms so gratefully given to Irit in its time of troubles, we are well on the track to ultimate victory over the bandits."
Kiralo snorted, very quietly, as he knelt and glanced over to the Emperor.
"We are most pleased to hear this," the Emperor said, quietly, as Kiralo took out a small brush and began writing, his knuckles itching with the words.
'Who is to ask where the forts are and what the bandits are doing?'
He passed the message along to a servant, not caring who saw it, and closed his eyes. This wasn't working. The court felt that the matter was solved. They felt that the alms would handle it for the moment, and that the Governor would of course manage matters properly.
Kiralo knew the answer, because he'd been talking to the Council, and they knew the answer because the Cs-Tasho had sent them information about the forts being built, as he was required to do.
For a reason no doubt quite arcane, the Emperor's government took interest when a Province was expanding their army or building forts.
All three of them were in the north, and badly placed at that. It was merely an attempt to confine the troubles in the southern half of Irit and ride the problems out. However well meaning, there were not that many bandits to fight in the valleys the forts had been placed in, and they wouldn't even be particularly good stop-gaps. They'd protect key valleys of allies of Tasho's, and little else.
And yet, and yet. Nobody replied to his small note. Nobody commented at all. He'd been trying for weeks and failing for weeks to get a commitment to help build forts to push back the bandits.
Kiralo listened as another missive was read, another vague answer given. The court felt tense with the letter and Kiralo's note.
He knew what they said of him, in this matter. They said that of course he'd recommend action. They said it without the vitriol that others had said it, but they said it to his face. He preferred action and violence, he was a hero, wasn't he?
So of course he preferred a hero's actions. But the court was going to be deliberate and intelligent in this matter, and that meant no to the forts.
It was that day, kneeling as he did, that he realized that perhaps he'd have to retreat.
Forward he had charged, as bold as a Tarnarin, and now he saw the crossbows, the glint of the metal bolt, and the sun was high in the sky. He was blind and uncertain, and if he continued to charge, he would be swarmed down.
He would fail. There was no convincing the court, and the sooner he gave up, the better. He hadn't even lost much, though he'd gained a reputation that was not particularly helpful.
A single, small coloring of his reputation. Perhaps it could be useful if he employed it correctly, but now he was known as someone whose aggressive willingness to resort to military spending might be a tad over-enthusiastic.
At least, however, he had a reputation like that to be tarnished.
******
"...damn dangerous battle, and there he was, right in the thick of it," Arimi said over drinks at a party, "Didn't flinch. Neither did I, but I ain't the one who had to lead a whole battle."
Kiralo frowned and looked across at the man he was talking to, saying, as if the words hadn't drifted past, "Religiously, I do not think we can pretend that we're isolated from the world. If the Gods and Judges wished us to be, they wouldn't have made the rest of the world."
"Ah, but it could be that at the time they made them, they were worthy, and--" the old man said, his eyes hard. He was a senior official, and he was only at the party because a friend of his niece's was hosting it, and through this complex connection, Hino'ri, a man whose influence in Hari-Nat was considerable, was brought before him.
Already, there were advantages to this, and yet Arimi's voice was loud enough to carry.
"--Outnumbered almost twice over, on ground he didn't choose…"
"What is that man talking of?" Hino'ri, "And who is he?"
"That is my companion, Arimi, Cs-Hino'ri. He's talking about old battles and old memories, and I hope you pay it no more mind than you would see fit," Kiralo said. His own words were twisting and hedging, because when he'd begun the plan to slowly push out rumors of his own military service, he'd been aware of just how they could backfire.
There were many in this court who would not view a record of military success as mattering at all, and some like his father who would view it even more negatively.
"What old battles?" Hino'ri asked, "I have heard you were a Captain of a small mercenary band."
"By circumstance last summer I wound up in charge of an army the night before a battle. Both mercenaries like me and city troops. Thirty thousand of them against fifty-thousand enemies, and no chance of retreating without leaving the infantry behind."
"And yet you're here," Hino'ri said, and there was something delicate and even kind in it, "You stood and fought. My son was a commander."
Kiralo noted the word 'was' and very carefully did not say anything.
"He stood and fought, at Nursita. But he didn't win, and neither did General Jin."
"Nursita?" Kiralo asked.
"The Bueli staged a lightning raid, all the way across Hari-Bueli and into Yeadalt," Hino'ri said, "About two decades ago. At Nursita, they were finally met by real opposition."
"How did the Bueli move so fast?" Kiralo asked, interest professional.
"They had troops, infantry, who were mounted on horseback, and they cleared the way for the infantry...I believe," Hino'ri said, "I am not a general. There was a fight, and they won, but they'd been slowed down enough that another Imperial army was on the way, from the capital."
"And the cavalry ran?" Kiralo asked, voice cold.
"Yes. You stood and won?"
"It cost two-thousand men," Kiralo said, "But there were fifty-thousand enemies before us that day. We would have lost far more running."
Hino'ri, "I buried my son beneath the family lake. If General Jin had been a wiser man...the Bueli never truly paid for what they've done."
"I am sorry to hear that."
"If you were in charge, would you have won?" Hino'ri asked.
Kiralo shrugged his shoulders and said, his tone formal, "I cannot know without knowing the ground, the disposition of the men, a thousand other factors. War is complex."
"I find peace hard enough to stand, the quiet of night when I'm on my knees and the Gods seem to demand so much," Hino'ri said, staring at Kiralo with rheumy eyes, "If there is war…"
He looked at the other man, shorter than him and stooped and said, "We do our best."
"Deep is the well of the world's sorrows, and deeper still are the world's regrets," Hino'ri said.
Kiralo finished the last line, "Shallow are the morals of the man who thinks he can deepen the latter to drain the former."
"You are educated," Hino'ri said.
"A fool does not go far in anything," Kiralo quoted, "And a wise man takes instructions gladly."
Hino'ri looked at him, curiously, but of course Kiralo didn't say that the person who had taught him the most was not his father. The lessons his father had given had been ones of bitterness and resistance. And yet the old man asked, "Your father sent you letters?"
"Yes," Kiralo said, as if that were an answer to what he was truly wondering. "He did."
*****
Reputation was hard to build subtly. And there were certainly rough edges to the guise, and yet by and large, it was spreading, and with it came recognition. People watched him when he rode, and when he got into a conflict with the East Tree and West Road poets, it was cast in light of his military service. Of course he would argue with them, of course he would say what he did, because he was a military man, someone used to action.
If it wasn't for the later failure to get his way on the matter of the forts, it would have been a flawless presentation. The way servants spread the information, the way the whispers strengthened and the story came out in pieces, allowing each one to be digested, analyzed, allowing rumors to spin off of rumors only for a new rumor to flush it out.
If he'd had an entire team of trained agents of course, or more people under his employ, more could be done, but did it need to be? All Kiralo needed, he realized as he rode and people gathered to watch a 'former' Captain, a war hero, ride, was what he had.
Just as many of the eyes were resentful as before, but now when he put his horse through what for him were easy paces, only barely calling upon the spirits who danced around him in joy, but for others seemed remarkable.
Not all were nearly so fawning, or so easily impressed, but everyone who mattered for these decisions at least had heard his name, and might give it greater weight in the future.
*****
The Council of Generals, on the other hand, was not nearly so simple to impress, let alone convince on any point. They were men who were used to power, and while some were bureaucrats or time-wasters, others were hard military men, and even the most foolish of them had risen far too high to be taken lightly.
Divide and conquer was the rule, and if he hadn't already felt besotted with rice wine, the meeting after meeting with the people who didn't matter, the ones below the Big Five would reinforce it.
Time and again he drank a shallow sip and leaned in and confided this truth, in one form or another: "You may not like my father, but he has been in this court for a while, and is a powerful servant of the Emperor. He would not cut off his arms, at a moment like this."
Qing'lu had looked at him for a long moment and said, "Surely you do not think the man that canny? He has made mistakes, and the army has always been one."
"I am here for a reason, honored Qing'lu. If you do not trust him, then trust the fact that I know better than him in these matters," Kiralo said, looking at the other man. As generals went, he was young enough that he'd still be in court and in power long after Kuojah was dead. Sheer time would see him outliving a man he despised with his being, and perhaps that was the way forward.
"Perhaps you do. You certainly know the Southlanders better than I do, for all that I was born in Hari-Su," Qing'lu said, "You have deep sympathy for them." They were said casually, but the barb was sharp.
This was the man he needed to convince. Not Ha'Dong, for all that the man was Kuojah's enemy. "I have deep understanding, perhaps. I mean well for the Empire, and for that to be achieved, army and throne must work in accord."
"We can manage that," Qing'lu said, and the hint was even more obvious.
"I hope so. The army might be needed soon, and with strong and swift horses," Kiralo said, taking a gamble that he might not have if he'd known the contents of Prince Jinhai's letter.
"And why is that?" Qing'lu said, leaning forward, eyes intense.
"Bueli. They have, as far as I can tell, Rassit horses. And I have heard rumor that they've been active, even after the raid failed decades ago."
"Is that what you spoke to Juae about?" Qing'lu asked, scornfully, "To get him to cooperate."
Truthfully, Kiralo said, "I have not spoken to the honorable Juae, head of the West division." Juae had not refused so much as carefully had no time to speak, and yet the arguments much have reached him anyways, and they'd had an effect.
"Is that so? What does the Empire want of its army? It cannot do anything when it is not being paid."
Qing'lu's voice grew harder as he rested his hand on the table, "That is our difficulty."
"Mine is to see just what the army can do, while also knowing that to use the army in the wrong way is to invite disaster," Kiralo said, "The money in arrears will be paid when we next need you."
"And when will that be, do you know?" Qing'lu said, "Or should our soldiers eat cast-off millet from the streets?"
This wasn't so at all. They received daily rations of food and drink, shelter, and a small portion of what they were supposed to be paid. It had lagged worse in the past, sometimes much worse, and the fear was that the moment the money was brought forth, war would follow with it.
"No, they shall not," Kiralo said, "We can arrange any number of solutions to this problem. Perhaps the daily ration might be increased?"
Qing'lu stared at him for a moment, and Kiralo allowed himself to smile blandly back. "That...could be possible," he said, and then sighed and asked, "Would you like some more Atsu?"
It was very good rice wine, and the heat was just right, but Kiralo knew an evasion when he heard one.
He bowed his head and said, "I'm afraid I don't have a head for it. Not as I do for conversation…"
"Yes, of course," Qing'lu said, grumpily, and Kiralo continued his advances.
Ultimately, nobody was going to trust Kuojah to be their ally and advocate, but if the suspicion could be contained and directed, and trust established on a few basic points, then that would be about all Kiralo could hope to achieve.
*****
Their breath misted, and Kiralo marveled at the cold as he walked through the garden. First snow had not yet fallen yet, but it would soon, and that was something Kiralo had not seen often. Kueng walked along, guards at his side, and said, "I love when the winter begins, though it is bad for my old bones. I am sorry not to have seen the entertainment you put on."
"The welcoming party?" Kiralo asked, carefully.
The old man nodded. His belly jutted out, and yet he walked with a brisk certainty and he looked as if once he had been an impressive soldier, the sort of man who might have ridden out in the yard. "I have been meaning to see Han for some time…"
"He is quite a good dancer, Cs-Kueng, sir."
"Yes," Kueng said.
Now that was a court rumor that was hard to miss. Kueng, when he was a younger man, had possessed a taste for handsome and athletic young men, often junior officers, who he scrupulously avoided raising above their station, and yet rewarded in handsome ways privately.
With age had come a cessation of the activity, and a third wife after the death of the second one, and now Kueng lived in a state of piety and activity. But the man still did enjoy certain pleasures of the flesh, and drinking and watching were two of them.
"I was impressed at his intiaitive."
"What bold flair, what fire! It reminds me of my own youth. I've served your father for many years, despite our differences."
Kiralo nodded, since Kueng had said something like this before.
"But, son, you have to understand, your father is more ignorant of military matters than he has any right to be. It's willful," Kueng said, "And thus he relies on me. But, you know how they view me."
A vain, indolent old puppet, Kiralo didn't say, "They suspect you because they suspect Kuojah."
Kueng gave a huge nod that seemed to run through his entire body before he stopped, "The army is not ready, or not as ready as it needs to be, if it is to be war in the next year."
"That can be dealt with," Kiralo said, "Anything can, if we can find a way."
"There might be one," Kueng said.
"What?"
"Well, there used to be a direct liason between the Council of Generals and the Emperor," Kueng said, stepping along and stopping to admire a tree, stripped bare of leaves. "Only there was the problem of whether it was the Emperor's tool to control the Council, or the Council's to try to control the Emperor, and besides which the last man to hold it…"
Kueng shook his head.
"Yes?" Kiralo asked, his voice calm, his face stiff, thoughts whirring.
"Executed for treason. He thought he could play each side and become a power all his own, and more than that he crossed Kuojah and began scheming in ways that were in fact treason, if only in the technicalities. It is a position that only someone trusted would hold, and it may yet be the secret to your father gaining power over the Council."
A butterfly of sorts had landed into his hand, and he needed to close his grip slowly. Because that was a position if he could make his moves towards it that might hold promise, though it also held heavy obligations, it sounded like. "Who would hold this position?"
"Don't be coy, you're your father's son, whatever estrangement you might feel you have," Kueng said, "I am sure you would be a loyal man to your father, Cs-Kiralo, since he has given you everything you have here, and made you." Kueng said it with the natural assurance of a man who had never doubted himself, nor the loyalty of his sons or the worthiness of his own father, an important official in his own right before his death.
"I likely would be," Kiralo said, the words almost choking in his throat. He agreed with Kuojah for now, and his father held the power, this was true, but this wouldn't last forever.
"Think on it boy," Kueng said.
He was.
He certainly was, even after the matter of the forts.
*****
Family Matters
The Lineage Ainin, or rather the portion that could be said to be Kuojah's, was actually rather large, at least in number of families.
The oldest daughter, Aia, is in her late forties, married to a husband who is a powerful merchant, partially on the back of her connections. When she was in her girlhood, Kuojah's control over the factions of Csrae was weak. As it is, the husband's power rests on the back of Kuojah's, and they have one son, in his twenties, and one living daughter, who has recently turned fourteen. Rumor has it that Mingzhu was engaged to a promising young scholar, who was said to be as close to Kuojah as a son. After the scholar's death at the premature age of twenty two, three months into the engagement process, Mingzhu has been left unmarried, and the family is desperately trying to patch up something more suitable, as the ground shifts beneath their feet.
The second oldest daughter recently died, leaving two daughters, one of them having already found her own husband. She was married to a powerful southern-Iritan noble, and might have known something of the politics, had she not been taken off in late childbirth two years before. This second granddaughter is said to play the courtly game in Rerin, currently unmarried but surprisingly powerful, trading on her family name and wealth that she acquired from a first marriage that ended in three miscarriages and then her husband's death of sickness. Interestingly, she is rumored to have started traveling from the Rerin court in order to meet with her grandfather on some matter, likely highly political.
The third oldest daughter, Siyu is unmarried, and serves as a priestess in Irit, associated with but not part of the Holy Isles. She is active and seems to be intelligent, and important in the efforts of the almsgiving, strangely enough, though the fact that she did not send a letter to Kiralo probably indicates some considerable distance.
The fourth oldest has been dead for the better part of a decade, and had one sickly son who died at the age of two. Her husband, as far as can be told, has disappeared.
The fifth oldest, Meilin has married an important Xissand noble and courtier, and moved away. She has one son, aged three, who has proven very sickly indeed, and one daughter, currently twenty, who is said not to be fit for polite society.
The sixth oldest is currently married with one daughter, but she is also pregnant, and she is married to a very prominent Hari-Su noble, a man of the very blood of the Hereditary Governor, and if but two or three people died unfortunately, she would be the wife of a Governor. Song seems aware of this fact, from court gossip, and keeps up a very steady correspondence with her father.
The seventh oldest, and the only one born after Kiralo, is currently sixteen and staying at court. Thus far it seems that Kuojah has been intentionally keeping Kiralo away from his youngest half-sister, whose birth killed Kuojah's wife...the one after the woman who was all that had stood in the way of Kiralo having to have grown up a different man. The son of Kuojah, and kept as close as could be. Her name is Yanmea, and rumors about her swirl, and yet her conduct is proper, her interest in poetry and flowers entirely befitting for someone of her age and refiment.
Which does Kiralo send a letter to or talk to? (Choose 1)
[] Have dinner with Aia, her husband, and her daughter and son.
[] Send a message to the widower of the second daughter.
[] Send a message to the second daughter's daughter in Rerin.
[] Write a letter to Siyu.
[] Send a letter to Meilin.
[] Write a letter to Song and her husband, in Hari-Su.
[] Talk with Yanmae.
*****
A/N: Yep, and then we'll complete things off in Turn 3--Results C, which will have a vote as well, and then after that, Rumors and on to Turn 4.
Poetry makes a good start, and Kiralo frowned over the letter for a long time before he began to write. He focused on the philosophical poetry of the southern courts, briefly touching on horse-riding and the importance they placed on a leader who was a 'man on horseback' as the saying went.
Very carefully, Kiralo talked about the philosophical debates, the complex and blurred lines between the general and the ruler that had grown only stronger since the Seventeen Cities had finally exerted their independence from the lords farther south.
It was easy, really, to fill the letter with the correct words, once he was sure what he wanted to say. And what he wanted to say was both nothing and something at once, a delicate balance and one that should be difficult for any man.
Yet, he was good at it, by now, he thought, as he carefully described the debates he'd taken part in, especially in regards to, well, religious philosophy.
There was a point to all of this, though. Prince Jinhai's philosophical positions might indeed matter, and poetry and horseback riding were both good topics to lure out more about who Jinhai was, or at least who he had advising him.
The brush moved carefully down the page, and then back up, line by line.
This was a man who would be overjoyed to see his father dead, and yet Kiralo had to admit that this was weaker grounds than he'd ever thought. There had been moments of spiteful fantasies, the sort of nighttime follies that prayer and sunlight pushed past, of telling his father just what he deserved.
As a young boy he'd entertained them constantly. Now, at the heart of empire, they were what they'd always been: a fantasy.
But in a court like this, fantasies weren't merely for the night.
*****
"And in conclusion," the herald said, his voice booming, the spirits carrying it along as the Emperor watched him, reading a letter aloud to court, "We have begun work on three new forts in the past month, and with the alms so gratefully given to Irit in its time of troubles, we are well on the track to ultimate victory over the bandits."
Kiralo snorted, very quietly, as he knelt and glanced over to the Emperor.
"We are most pleased to hear this," the Emperor said, quietly, as Kiralo took out a small brush and began writing, his knuckles itching with the words.
'Who is to ask where the forts are and what the bandits are doing?'
He passed the message along to a servant, not caring who saw it, and closed his eyes. This wasn't working. The court felt that the matter was solved. They felt that the alms would handle it for the moment, and that the Governor would of course manage matters properly.
Kiralo knew the answer, because he'd been talking to the Council, and they knew the answer because the Cs-Tasho had sent them information about the forts being built, as he was required to do.
For a reason no doubt quite arcane, the Emperor's government took interest when a Province was expanding their army or building forts.
All three of them were in the north, and badly placed at that. It was merely an attempt to confine the troubles in the southern half of Irit and ride the problems out. However well meaning, there were not that many bandits to fight in the valleys the forts had been placed in, and they wouldn't even be particularly good stop-gaps. They'd protect key valleys of allies of Tasho's, and little else.
And yet, and yet. Nobody replied to his small note. Nobody commented at all. He'd been trying for weeks and failing for weeks to get a commitment to help build forts to push back the bandits.
Kiralo listened as another missive was read, another vague answer given. The court felt tense with the letter and Kiralo's note.
He knew what they said of him, in this matter. They said that of course he'd recommend action. They said it without the vitriol that others had said it, but they said it to his face. He preferred action and violence, he was a hero, wasn't he?
So of course he preferred a hero's actions. But the court was going to be deliberate and intelligent in this matter, and that meant no to the forts.
It was that day, kneeling as he did, that he realized that perhaps he'd have to retreat.
Forward he had charged, as bold as a Tarnarin, and now he saw the crossbows, the glint of the metal bolt, and the sun was high in the sky. He was blind and uncertain, and if he continued to charge, he would be swarmed down.
He would fail. There was no convincing the court, and the sooner he gave up, the better. He hadn't even lost much, though he'd gained a reputation that was not particularly helpful.
A single, small coloring of his reputation. Perhaps it could be useful if he employed it correctly, but now he was known as someone whose aggressive willingness to resort to military spending might be a tad over-enthusiastic.
At least, however, he had a reputation like that to be tarnished.
******
"...damn dangerous battle, and there he was, right in the thick of it," Arimi said over drinks at a party, "Didn't flinch. Neither did I, but I ain't the one who had to lead a whole battle."
Kiralo frowned and looked across at the man he was talking to, saying, as if the words hadn't drifted past, "Religiously, I do not think we can pretend that we're isolated from the world. If the Gods and Judges wished us to be, they wouldn't have made the rest of the world."
"Ah, but it could be that at the time they made them, they were worthy, and--" the old man said, his eyes hard. He was a senior official, and he was only at the party because a friend of his niece's was hosting it, and through this complex connection, Hino'ri, a man whose influence in Hari-Nat was considerable, was brought before him.
Already, there were advantages to this, and yet Arimi's voice was loud enough to carry.
"--Outnumbered almost twice over, on ground he didn't choose…"
"What is that man talking of?" Hino'ri, "And who is he?"
"That is my companion, Arimi, Cs-Hino'ri. He's talking about old battles and old memories, and I hope you pay it no more mind than you would see fit," Kiralo said. His own words were twisting and hedging, because when he'd begun the plan to slowly push out rumors of his own military service, he'd been aware of just how they could backfire.
There were many in this court who would not view a record of military success as mattering at all, and some like his father who would view it even more negatively.
"What old battles?" Hino'ri asked, "I have heard you were a Captain of a small mercenary band."
"By circumstance last summer I wound up in charge of an army the night before a battle. Both mercenaries like me and city troops. Thirty thousand of them against fifty-thousand enemies, and no chance of retreating without leaving the infantry behind."
"And yet you're here," Hino'ri said, and there was something delicate and even kind in it, "You stood and fought. My son was a commander."
Kiralo noted the word 'was' and very carefully did not say anything.
"He stood and fought, at Nursita. But he didn't win, and neither did General Jin."
"Nursita?" Kiralo asked.
"The Bueli staged a lightning raid, all the way across Hari-Bueli and into Yeadalt," Hino'ri said, "About two decades ago. At Nursita, they were finally met by real opposition."
"How did the Bueli move so fast?" Kiralo asked, interest professional.
"They had troops, infantry, who were mounted on horseback, and they cleared the way for the infantry...I believe," Hino'ri said, "I am not a general. There was a fight, and they won, but they'd been slowed down enough that another Imperial army was on the way, from the capital."
"And the cavalry ran?" Kiralo asked, voice cold.
"Yes. You stood and won?"
"It cost two-thousand men," Kiralo said, "But there were fifty-thousand enemies before us that day. We would have lost far more running."
Hino'ri, "I buried my son beneath the family lake. If General Jin had been a wiser man...the Bueli never truly paid for what they've done."
"I am sorry to hear that."
"If you were in charge, would you have won?" Hino'ri asked.
Kiralo shrugged his shoulders and said, his tone formal, "I cannot know without knowing the ground, the disposition of the men, a thousand other factors. War is complex."
"I find peace hard enough to stand, the quiet of night when I'm on my knees and the Gods seem to demand so much," Hino'ri said, staring at Kiralo with rheumy eyes, "If there is war…"
He looked at the other man, shorter than him and stooped and said, "We do our best."
"Deep is the well of the world's sorrows, and deeper still are the world's regrets," Hino'ri said.
Kiralo finished the last line, "Shallow are the morals of the man who thinks he can deepen the latter to drain the former."
"You are educated," Hino'ri said.
"A fool does not go far in anything," Kiralo quoted, "And a wise man takes instructions gladly."
Hino'ri looked at him, curiously, but of course Kiralo didn't say that the person who had taught him the most was not his father. The lessons his father had given had been ones of bitterness and resistance. And yet the old man asked, "Your father sent you letters?"
"Yes," Kiralo said, as if that were an answer to what he was truly wondering. "He did."
*****
Reputation was hard to build subtly. And there were certainly rough edges to the guise, and yet by and large, it was spreading, and with it came recognition. People watched him when he rode, and when he got into a conflict with the East Tree and West Road poets, it was cast in light of his military service. Of course he would argue with them, of course he would say what he did, because he was a military man, someone used to action.
If it wasn't for the later failure to get his way on the matter of the forts, it would have been a flawless presentation. The way servants spread the information, the way the whispers strengthened and the story came out in pieces, allowing each one to be digested, analyzed, allowing rumors to spin off of rumors only for a new rumor to flush it out.
If he'd had an entire team of trained agents of course, or more people under his employ, more could be done, but did it need to be? All Kiralo needed, he realized as he rode and people gathered to watch a 'former' Captain, a war hero, ride, was what he had.
Just as many of the eyes were resentful as before, but now when he put his horse through what for him were easy paces, only barely calling upon the spirits who danced around him in joy, but for others seemed remarkable.
Not all were nearly so fawning, or so easily impressed, but everyone who mattered for these decisions at least had heard his name, and might give it greater weight in the future.
*****
The Council of Generals, on the other hand, was not nearly so simple to impress, let alone convince on any point. They were men who were used to power, and while some were bureaucrats or time-wasters, others were hard military men, and even the most foolish of them had risen far too high to be taken lightly.
Divide and conquer was the rule, and if he hadn't already felt besotted with rice wine, the meeting after meeting with the people who didn't matter, the ones below the Big Five would reinforce it.
Time and again he drank a shallow sip and leaned in and confided this truth, in one form or another: "You may not like my father, but he has been in this court for a while, and is a powerful servant of the Emperor. He would not cut off his arms, at a moment like this."
Qing'lu had looked at him for a long moment and said, "Surely you do not think the man that canny? He has made mistakes, and the army has always been one."
"I am here for a reason, honored Qing'lu. If you do not trust him, then trust the fact that I know better than him in these matters," Kiralo said, looking at the other man. As generals went, he was young enough that he'd still be in court and in power long after Kuojah was dead. Sheer time would see him outliving a man he despised with his being, and perhaps that was the way forward.
"Perhaps you do. You certainly know the Southlanders better than I do, for all that I was born in Hari-Su," Qing'lu said, "You have deep sympathy for them." They were said casually, but the barb was sharp.
This was the man he needed to convince. Not Ha'Dong, for all that the man was Kuojah's enemy. "I have deep understanding, perhaps. I mean well for the Empire, and for that to be achieved, army and throne must work in accord."
"We can manage that," Qing'lu said, and the hint was even more obvious.
"I hope so. The army might be needed soon, and with strong and swift horses," Kiralo said, taking a gamble that he might not have if he'd known the contents of Prince Jinhai's letter.
"And why is that?" Qing'lu said, leaning forward, eyes intense.
"Bueli. They have, as far as I can tell, Rassit horses. And I have heard rumor that they've been active, even after the raid failed decades ago."
"Is that what you spoke to Juae about?" Qing'lu asked, scornfully, "To get him to cooperate."
Truthfully, Kiralo said, "I have not spoken to the honorable Juae, head of the West division." Juae had not refused so much as carefully had no time to speak, and yet the arguments much have reached him anyways, and they'd had an effect.
"Is that so? What does the Empire want of its army? It cannot do anything when it is not being paid."
Qing'lu's voice grew harder as he rested his hand on the table, "That is our difficulty."
"Mine is to see just what the army can do, while also knowing that to use the army in the wrong way is to invite disaster," Kiralo said, "The money in arrears will be paid when we next need you."
"And when will that be, do you know?" Qing'lu said, "Or should our soldiers eat cast-off millet from the streets?"
This wasn't so at all. They received daily rations of food and drink, shelter, and a small portion of what they were supposed to be paid. It had lagged worse in the past, sometimes much worse, and the fear was that the moment the money was brought forth, war would follow with it.
"No, they shall not," Kiralo said, "We can arrange any number of solutions to this problem. Perhaps the daily ration might be increased?"
Qing'lu stared at him for a moment, and Kiralo allowed himself to smile blandly back. "That...could be possible," he said, and then sighed and asked, "Would you like some more Atsu?"
It was very good rice wine, and the heat was just right, but Kiralo knew an evasion when he heard one.
He bowed his head and said, "I'm afraid I don't have a head for it. Not as I do for conversation…"
"Yes, of course," Qing'lu said, grumpily, and Kiralo continued his advances.
Ultimately, nobody was going to trust Kuojah to be their ally and advocate, but if the suspicion could be contained and directed, and trust established on a few basic points, then that would be about all Kiralo could hope to achieve.
*****
Their breath misted, and Kiralo marveled at the cold as he walked through the garden. First snow had not yet fallen yet, but it would soon, and that was something Kiralo had not seen often. Kueng walked along, guards at his side, and said, "I love when the winter begins, though it is bad for my old bones. I am sorry not to have seen the entertainment you put on."
"The welcoming party?" Kiralo asked, carefully.
The old man nodded. His belly jutted out, and yet he walked with a brisk certainty and he looked as if once he had been an impressive soldier, the sort of man who might have ridden out in the yard. "I have been meaning to see Han for some time…"
"He is quite a good dancer, Cs-Kueng, sir."
"Yes," Kueng said.
Now that was a court rumor that was hard to miss. Kueng, when he was a younger man, had possessed a taste for handsome and athletic young men, often junior officers, who he scrupulously avoided raising above their station, and yet rewarded in handsome ways privately.
With age had come a cessation of the activity, and a third wife after the death of the second one, and now Kueng lived in a state of piety and activity. But the man still did enjoy certain pleasures of the flesh, and drinking and watching were two of them.
"I was impressed at his intiaitive."
"What bold flair, what fire! It reminds me of my own youth. I've served your father for many years, despite our differences."
Kiralo nodded, since Kueng had said something like this before.
"But, son, you have to understand, your father is more ignorant of military matters than he has any right to be. It's willful," Kueng said, "And thus he relies on me. But, you know how they view me."
A vain, indolent old puppet, Kiralo didn't say, "They suspect you because they suspect Kuojah."
Kueng gave a huge nod that seemed to run through his entire body before he stopped, "The army is not ready, or not as ready as it needs to be, if it is to be war in the next year."
"That can be dealt with," Kiralo said, "Anything can, if we can find a way."
"There might be one," Kueng said.
"What?"
"Well, there used to be a direct liason between the Council of Generals and the Emperor," Kueng said, stepping along and stopping to admire a tree, stripped bare of leaves. "Only there was the problem of whether it was the Emperor's tool to control the Council, or the Council's to try to control the Emperor, and besides which the last man to hold it…"
Kueng shook his head.
"Yes?" Kiralo asked, his voice calm, his face stiff, thoughts whirring.
"Executed for treason. He thought he could play each side and become a power all his own, and more than that he crossed Kuojah and began scheming in ways that were in fact treason, if only in the technicalities. It is a position that only someone trusted would hold, and it may yet be the secret to your father gaining power over the Council."
A butterfly of sorts had landed into his hand, and he needed to close his grip slowly. Because that was a position if he could make his moves towards it that might hold promise, though it also held heavy obligations, it sounded like. "Who would hold this position?"
"Don't be coy, you're your father's son, whatever estrangement you might feel you have," Kueng said, "I am sure you would be a loyal man to your father, Cs-Kiralo, since he has given you everything you have here, and made you." Kueng said it with the natural assurance of a man who had never doubted himself, nor the loyalty of his sons or the worthiness of his own father, an important official in his own right before his death.
"I likely would be," Kiralo said, the words almost choking in his throat. He agreed with Kuojah for now, and his father held the power, this was true, but this wouldn't last forever.
"Think on it boy," Kueng said.
He was.
He certainly was, even after the matter of the forts.
*****
Family Matters
The Lineage Ainin, or rather the portion that could be said to be Kuojah's, was actually rather large, at least in number of families.
The oldest daughter, Aia, is in her late forties, married to a husband who is a powerful merchant, partially on the back of her connections. When she was in her girlhood, Kuojah's control over the factions of Csrae was weak. As it is, the husband's power rests on the back of Kuojah's, and they have one son, in his twenties, and one living daughter, who has recently turned fourteen. Rumor has it that Mingzhu was engaged to a promising young scholar, who was said to be as close to Kuojah as a son. After the scholar's death at the premature age of twenty two, three months into the engagement process, Mingzhu has been left unmarried, and the family is desperately trying to patch up something more suitable, as the ground shifts beneath their feet.
The second oldest daughter recently died, leaving two daughters, one of them having already found her own husband. She was married to a powerful southern-Iritan noble, and might have known something of the politics, had she not been taken off in late childbirth two years before. This second granddaughter is said to play the courtly game in Rerin, currently unmarried but surprisingly powerful, trading on her family name and wealth that she acquired from a first marriage that ended in three miscarriages and then her husband's death of sickness. Interestingly, she is rumored to have started traveling from the Rerin court in order to meet with her grandfather on some matter, likely highly political.
The third oldest daughter, Siyu is unmarried, and serves as a priestess in Irit, associated with but not part of the Holy Isles. She is active and seems to be intelligent, and important in the efforts of the almsgiving, strangely enough, though the fact that she did not send a letter to Kiralo probably indicates some considerable distance.
The fourth oldest has been dead for the better part of a decade, and had one sickly son who died at the age of two. Her husband, as far as can be told, has disappeared.
The fifth oldest, Meilin has married an important Xissand noble and courtier, and moved away. She has one son, aged three, who has proven very sickly indeed, and one daughter, currently twenty, who is said not to be fit for polite society.
The sixth oldest is currently married with one daughter, but she is also pregnant, and she is married to a very prominent Hari-Su noble, a man of the very blood of the Hereditary Governor, and if but two or three people died unfortunately, she would be the wife of a Governor. Song seems aware of this fact, from court gossip, and keeps up a very steady correspondence with her father.
The seventh oldest, and the only one born after Kiralo, is currently sixteen and staying at court. Thus far it seems that Kuojah has been intentionally keeping Kiralo away from his youngest half-sister, whose birth killed Kuojah's wife...the one after the woman who was all that had stood in the way of Kiralo having to have grown up a different man. The son of Kuojah, and kept as close as could be. Her name is Yanmea, and rumors about her swirl, and yet her conduct is proper, her interest in poetry and flowers entirely befitting for someone of her age and refiment.
Which does Kiralo send a letter to or talk to? (Choose 1)
[] Have dinner with Aia, her husband, and her daughter and son.
[] Send a message to the widower of the second daughter.
[] Send a message to the second daughter's daughter in Rerin.
[] Write a letter to Siyu.
[] Send a letter to Meilin.
[] Write a letter to Song and her husband, in Hari-Su.
[] Talk with Yanmae.
*****
Trust In Arrears
Need: 65, Rolling: 1d100+13 (Dip)+3 (Rumors of war success)=100 (not natural), 82
Effect: More Options, bonuses, ???
Rumors of War
Need: 36, Rolled: 1d100+14=63
Effect: Bonus to (Court) military actions and their chance, +1 Court Influence dice (Military Actions only). Bonus to a few other things, including one to counteract the Fort Up failure in terms of the Wind-Dancers
Fort Up
Need: 40, Rolled: 1d100+11+3 (Rumors of war success)+2 (Arrears success)=35,
Effect: Failure, can try again next month at 40% chance of success, slightly reduced chance of success for all military state options until the 'failure' is 'redeemed.'
Family matters
Need: 0, Rolled: 1d100+13=97, huh: 97+1d100=167
Effect: Options, get to choose one right now for free because of a crit.
Need: 65, Rolling: 1d100+13 (Dip)+3 (Rumors of war success)=100 (not natural), 82
Effect: More Options, bonuses, ???
Rumors of War
Need: 36, Rolled: 1d100+14=63
Effect: Bonus to (Court) military actions and their chance, +1 Court Influence dice (Military Actions only). Bonus to a few other things, including one to counteract the Fort Up failure in terms of the Wind-Dancers
Fort Up
Need: 40, Rolled: 1d100+11+3 (Rumors of war success)+2 (Arrears success)=35,
Effect: Failure, can try again next month at 40% chance of success, slightly reduced chance of success for all military state options until the 'failure' is 'redeemed.'
Family matters
Need: 0, Rolled: 1d100+13=97, huh: 97+1d100=167
Effect: Options, get to choose one right now for free because of a crit.
A/N: Yep, and then we'll complete things off in Turn 3--Results C, which will have a vote as well, and then after that, Rumors and on to Turn 4.
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- Location
- The Great Beyond
- Pronouns
- He/She/They
'steady correspondence with' appears to be cut off. 'sseventh oldest' has an extra s.
Not yet sure what to vote for.
- Location
- Virginia
[X] Talk with Yanmae.
Flair not flare I imagine. Unless he was literally on fire.
[] Have dinner with Aia, her husband, and her daughter and son.
Merchant, linked to Kuojah.
In the market for a marriage and the foundation of their influence crumbling soon.
[] Send a message to the widower of the second daughter.
The relative in question is dead, so it'd be harder to get through, while the widower is an influential southern noble.
[] Send a message to the second daughter's daughter in Rerin.
Intrigue master, already associated with Kuojah. The miscarriages and the death of sickness speak to me of poison.
[] Write a letter to Siyu.
Priestess, and smart, but didn't initiate a dialogue with us. Reluctant, cautious, or doesn't care is unknown.
[] Send a letter to Meilin.
A link to Xissand.
[] Write a letter to Song and her husband, in Hari-Su.
Hari Su connection, with possibilities of rising higher if things go bloody.
[] Talk with Yanmae.
A poet huh? And one Kuojah is keeping away from us.
On the other hand, her age means relatively limited access to influence.
[X] Write a letter to Song and her husband, in Hari-Su.
More distant connections then.
- Location
- The Great Beyond
- Pronouns
- He/She/They
[X] Write a letter to Song and her husband, in Hari-Su.
Zeitgeist Blue
Currently Made of Metal
- Location
- Manila, Philippines, GMT +8
[X] Write a letter to Song and her husband, in Hari-Su.
Hmm, a link to a Hereditary governor with you say?
Hmm, a link to a Hereditary governor with you say?
Random Member
Gardener of Human Happiness
- Location
- Behind You
[X] Have dinner with Aia, her husband, and her daughter and son.
Meh, merchant connections.
Meh, merchant connections.
- Location
- Germany
[X] Write a letter to Song and her husband, in Hari-Su.
I am still interested in opening up a dialogue with the Governor of Hari-Su. I would help with increasing foreign trade and allow us to gain the favor of Prince Namal.
I am still interested in opening up a dialogue with the Governor of Hari-Su. I would help with increasing foreign trade and allow us to gain the favor of Prince Namal.
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- Pronouns
- They/Them
Alright, the vote probably closes on Monday, something like that. Hoping to see some more votes.
[X] Write a letter to Song and her husband, in Hari-Su.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Vote closes tomorrow morning.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Also, I think it might be tied at the moment.