Post by Emperor Florin von Marcum on Feb 22, 2022 9:30:38 GMT
The council sat in silence for once. Seven men and eight chairs. Plans were still placed at each seat. A cup for all eight members. It didn’t feel proper to do otherwise.
Councilor Retorus, with a lump in his throat, broke the silence first. “It isn’t right. Every man at this table deserved it far more than she.”
Estrana, now acting councilor of arms, cut in. “Catherine died… in service to her country. She reigned through her own grief. We must follow that example. War with Duom is certain now. We need to decide what demands-“
“Demands? Will anything that stinking dungheap has to offer bring her back? Or her brother? Oh God and the babe! There are no demands now. We kill until the streets run with rivers of blood!”
The others looked on, in horror, agreement, or stunned weariness. Estrana let Retorus rage on, jaw clenched. Of course he understood the feeling. Catherine was his niece. He had fought and bled for her in the Succession. He knew well enough that wars were fought to exact revenge. But he also knew they must end eventually. Still he did not press the issue. In time, they would make terms. In time there would be peace. For now though, Divinium was to sharpen her claws.
With Councilor Retorus now reduced to an angry, sniveling heap in his chair (Duke Estrana tried not to judge him, the man had protected Catherine since the time she was a little girl), it was decided that Councilor Durot would send out a missive to every nation they could. A request for aid in taking down the Duomish beast. Special care would have to be taken with the Sadalers. News spread fast, and Anthiese was already on her way to the Capital. Gods, he didn’t even want to think about the election. The others shuffled their papers. No one had dismissed them. They looked to the empty chair.
“Dismissed gentlemen” Estrana finally said, halfheartedly. Then with more tenacity, “Given this crisis I think it safe to say that Divinium will remain under military control until such a time that the succession can be settled.”
The men left to do their duties, and Duke Estrana ensured the door had closed behind them before he let himself weep for his niece.
Councilor Retorus, with a lump in his throat, broke the silence first. “It isn’t right. Every man at this table deserved it far more than she.”
Estrana, now acting councilor of arms, cut in. “Catherine died… in service to her country. She reigned through her own grief. We must follow that example. War with Duom is certain now. We need to decide what demands-“
“Demands? Will anything that stinking dungheap has to offer bring her back? Or her brother? Oh God and the babe! There are no demands now. We kill until the streets run with rivers of blood!”
The others looked on, in horror, agreement, or stunned weariness. Estrana let Retorus rage on, jaw clenched. Of course he understood the feeling. Catherine was his niece. He had fought and bled for her in the Succession. He knew well enough that wars were fought to exact revenge. But he also knew they must end eventually. Still he did not press the issue. In time, they would make terms. In time there would be peace. For now though, Divinium was to sharpen her claws.
With Councilor Retorus now reduced to an angry, sniveling heap in his chair (Duke Estrana tried not to judge him, the man had protected Catherine since the time she was a little girl), it was decided that Councilor Durot would send out a missive to every nation they could. A request for aid in taking down the Duomish beast. Special care would have to be taken with the Sadalers. News spread fast, and Anthiese was already on her way to the Capital. Gods, he didn’t even want to think about the election. The others shuffled their papers. No one had dismissed them. They looked to the empty chair.
“Dismissed gentlemen” Estrana finally said, halfheartedly. Then with more tenacity, “Given this crisis I think it safe to say that Divinium will remain under military control until such a time that the succession can be settled.”
The men left to do their duties, and Duke Estrana ensured the door had closed behind them before he let himself weep for his niece.