The sun was just beginning to set over the keep when Aedan's horse thundered toward the main gates. They would close soon, and though the king wouldn't be left outside, he also didn't want the guards to know he was late again. He knew people might begin to fear that he was paying inadequate attention to the running of his new realm, and he scorned their concern--but still, he wasn't about to do anything to bring it upon himself. He whipped his young gelding on, feeling the horse's hooves pounding against the ground, his neck foamy with exertion.

He passed serfs tilling the fields of barley at the base of the hill, their bent backs reflecting the dying light, throwing their faces into shadow, as though they were boulders--mere parts of the landscape--instead of men and women. His horse continued, slowing to a trot as the hill grew steeper, and he passed terraces of olive and fig trees, their gnarled branches black against the dying blue of the sky.

Bran had settled into a light jog, halfway between a trot and a walk, by the time they passed the stands of olive trees on the last terrace and made their way to the main gate, slipping through it before the guards came to shut the heavy portcullis and bar the wooden gates behind it. Yes, he thought, riding under the arch that was the only entrance through thick walls, Thiasa Keep was a secure place. There was no real danger of a barbarian attack here, though Newbury and Lawley had to worry for themselves.

The streets were emptying at this hour, and the King got some satisfaction from watching the people react to his passing. He wasn't dressed as the monarch--it had been bad enough that he'd gone out alone, but to go in finery would have been begging for robbery and death--but still his loyal subjects recognized him. He waved to them in turn, graciously, and wound his way through dirt paths and the occasional cobbled street until he came to the Keep. There, he left Bran at the stables and made his way in for supper, which he knew would have been put off untll his return; he was, after all, the King.

When he walked into the dining-hall the Lords and Ladies stood to welcome him, then bowed, and he acknowledged it with a brief nod before making his way to the tall, ornately carved wooden chair where he sat to dine on a raised dais with his siblings. Doubtless they were all astir over his unkempt appearance, but it was his prerogative to take a day in the country to himself. He was King. Today, angry over yet another negative response from a Scalian Earl regarding marriage to his younger sister, he chose to speak only with his brother over dinner, and leave his sisters to their own counsel.

He held out his golden cup to a passing server, who filled it expeditiously with wine, then served himself of the haunch of roast pig before him, as well as bread and some of the sallet, of early lettuce, carrots, and turnips doused in olive oil and dark red wine vinegar. Eating neatly with the pinched fingers of his right hand, he paused to wipe his hand on the hanging hem of the table-cloth before he turned to his brother.

"So, Fergus, did you hear the news from the border? Apparently the eastern barbarians are stirring." This was what had really been bothering him--why he'd needed to go and clear his head. "I think I may send you to subdue them." He trusted his brother to do that much, and he worried about having the younger man here at court, where God knew the public opinion could rise against him. And if he were to have a usurper...

But the thought was ridiculous. Fergus was perhaps the man he trusted most.

Not that it was admitting much, to say so.

As hard as he tried to stay on the King good side, Aedan didn't always make it the easiest of things to do. Often it wasn't even anything that big, the fact that he was late for supper - again - on its own was of no big consequence, but the implications were. What exactly was he doing if he wasn't anywhere to be found in the keep? Fergus wondered himself often enough, and could see the question in several of the noble's eyes as they waited. He'd never heard of anyone rebelling over a late meal, but as time ticked by he did wonder if it would be worth saying he had important business and having food sent up to his room. Probably not a good idea though, if he did it the rest of the court would do it and Aedan was unlikely to be happy to return home to find that no one had waited for him. The nobles would naturally point the finger at him as he'd started it.

So that left waiting. Several people were playing cards and dice around the room, but Fergus kept himself out of that. If he had to be here when Aedan wasn't he tried to avoid being accessible, least someone think there might be a chance of him engaging in espionage. The chances were slim, but he didn't doubt that he could be killed for being a figurehead if things got bad enough.

At length it pleased the King to join them. Fergus could have groaned aloud and dropped his head in his hands when he saw what his brother was wearing. Riding clothes. To a meal where the nobility of the realm waited for him, while his brother was well turned out if not particularly flashy. He remained silent and got to his feet as his brother approached, only sitting down again once Aedan had taken his ornately carved seat. As the heir he had the seat to the right, and he'd never felt very comfortable sitting there for all he appeared as relaxed as he ever got.

When Aedan had finished serving himself Fergus started, nodding at the server to pour him some wine as he neatly placed a little of everything on his trencher. He didn't make it a habit to send out bits of food from the high table to favourites on the lower tables, it was just asking for trouble. It was clear that Aedan wasn't in the best of moods, which may or may not have been connected to why he was late, he was ignoring their sisters completely and it didn't take Fergus long to work out that there must have been a further issue - perhaps an outright refusal - of marriage again. Being a new kingdom it was always going to be difficult, especially with things reputedly unstable, but Fergus hadn't expected this many setbacks. Neither sister was unpresentable or had anything wrong with them, and at twenty one it really was high time their younger sister was married.

He was given no chance to reply when Aedan asked his question, but nodded instead, chewing a mouthful of bread and staring down at the table until he swallowed it, turning his face towards his brother, who was apparently considering sending him to subdue them. Fergus stared at him silently for several seconds, his mind working frantically. With things as they were it was unlikely that he was going to be asked to do something entirely suicidal, he was still the most trusted courtier and the only male heir. But in the long term, it was a lot more suicidal. If he succeeded in beating the eastern barbarians and Aedan became unpopular, then people were going to look to him even more. It might almost be safer losing, until Aedan decided that he'd sold out to the enemy for something. Really, it was quite astonishing to him that younger brothers who inherited the throne for one reason or another weren't complete nervous wrecks.

But if Aedan had decided that he was going, then he was going. He wasn't going to fight him over that, and he'd do his best to secure his brothers interests he knew. It was all he'd ever done. "If you wish it, my lord brother, I will do my best to subdue them and secure the territories of your kingdom." His response was quiet, and he reached for the wine as he spoke. He had a feeling that he was going to need it. Only age and death had stopped their father from continuing the conquest of the island, and Aedan was driven to complete it. Fergus saw the need for it, even if he didn't relish the idea of fighting tribesmen. Even if their weapons were made from bronze, they could inflict heavy casualties and the main problem with invading was that the enemy knew the terrain.

"If you wish it, my lord brother, I will do my best to subdue them and secure the territories of your kingdom."

His brother's response made him peevish, and Aedan paused to take a sip of wine, calming the flare of his temper. The subdued tone Fergus was using obviously meant he disapproved, and Aedan wondered if he knew what an honor he was being given. What Aedan wouldn't do to put down a barbarian rebellion! But until they went into outright war, his life was too important to the country to lay down. And frankly, he didn't think Fergus could manage the kingdom if it came to that.

Some of the marriage troubles he was inclined to think on were his own. He knew there were any number of Thiasan ladies he could marry, bred with the manners of Scalia...

But none of the prestige of Scalia, and there was the rub. Some of their families were incredibly wealthy, having struck gold quite literally in one of Thiasa's numerous mines or managed to take the precious metal from the barbarians during the Barbarian Wars. But what he wanted was some recognition from Scalia, wartorn as it was. Ironically, Thiasa was probably more stable than the kingdom of loosely allied baronies from which it had branched. Of course, Aedan had known very little of Scalia, being five when his mother brought him across the Channel to his father, and Fergus nothing at all.

"Brother," he said at length, "I only ask you because it's well within your capabilities." And it would make him stop fearing his brother was attempting to usurp the throne every time he wasn't looking. He paused to cut a piece off his meat and lift it to his mouth with his right hand. When he was finished, he wiped his hand on the tablecloth again and looked more intently at Fergus, ignoring the chatter of courtiers at the lower table. They wouldn't have the vaguest clue what he was talking about. "Besides, you might very well be able to strike a deal with the eastern barbarians like we did with the western, who gave us the king's.... his sister or his wife, I don't know which. Of course we needn't uphold any bargain we make, but they would respect the word of the king's younger brother, I'm told heritage is very important to them." He shrugged. "I'm not sending you to be killed, Fergus dear!"

Though it would be something out of the way if he did die.

What he'd said had clearly irritated Aedan. Fergus wasn't even sure what it was he'd said, did Aedan actually want him to argue with him? Fergus couldn't imagine that he did want a public disagreement, but he did know that his doormat routine was starting to get a bit too old. Not that he had any idea what else to do, he'd been doing what Aedan told him to for years even before he was crowned king. Maybe if he started getting drunk in public and stabbed someone, or had a bastard child Aedan might be a bit more trusting. If that was the word for it, he hardly expected that the man would ever really like him. It would mean he wasn't a completely isolated doormat, anyway, and if he stabbed someone of the minor nobility and below or impregnated a peasant girl then it wasn't threatening to Aedan either.

"I am honoured that you have such faith in them, my lord." The words had turned from 'think' to 'ask' in as many sentences, and it hadn't passed Fergus' attention. Aedan was going to send him away, even if he was asking politely they both knew that Fergus would go both because he had no choice and he never refused Aedan anything. They also both knew that Fergus could do what Aedan was asking him to, they'd had the same training and although they'd both been too young for the barbarian war they both had experience.

Unlike his brother Fergus didn't wipe his fingers on the table cloth, but rather a cloth draped over his left shoulder. As he ate it was in frequently use as his fingers moved between meat, the wine goblet and the oil covered sallet. Wiping them on the table cloth had always seemed a little counterproductive to Fergus, who thought that food residue was more likely to get transferred to clothes that way.

When the mentions of negotiation came up Fergus had to focus hard on not tensing up. That negotiation was done before his time by a man who hadn't enough power to ever challenge Aedan, and it had been successful. Much like the fighting, success and failure in a negotiation of that sort were as bad as each other over the long term. He met his brother's gaze head on for a moment before glancing down then back up. Aedan was asking him to lie to them about the negotiations, they weren't seriously going to uphold them. That was just one more thing he'd have to worry about, he could feel his heart beating faster already as he reached for the wine again. It might be a good move though, if he could carry it off Aedan would have to admit that he'd passed by a good opportunity to gain allies for a coup, and also his own reputation would suffer for it. That would cause more people to follow Aedan, and if Aedan was upset with the terms - as he probably would be, one way or another - then he was in the clear because it wasn't him breaking his word. Just that he didn't agree with the terms his younger brother had made.

"His sister-wife, as I understand it. A child of another of his father's wives. I believe it may have been a political match, my lord brother." The idea seemed barbaric to him, but he could understand the consolidation of power. As he sipped the wine again he thought that it probably wasn't unlike ensuring that the pope was on your side, the woman was supposed to be some sort of spiritual leader and marriage would have bound them together. Utterly barbaric of course, but there was some sense in it. Heritage was important to both cultures, but he decided not to point that particular fact out.

Aedan wasn't sending him out with the intention of getting him killed yet, anyway. When he did get round to it Fergus had a feeling that he was going to make an example of him if he could, and he wasn't looking forward to it. Examples tended to be messy and painful. There seemed little point in saying this to Aedan, Fergus was fairly certain that he knew his general feelings on the matter. He was good at hiding things, but Aedan had been and still was pretty much everything to him, if anyone knew what he was thinking it was going to be him. "And for that I am grateful, brother. I should like the chance to be more useful to you before I die."

"Incest? The barbarian leaders commit incest?" Aedan curled his lip in disgust and pushed his plate away as though the comment had sickened him. In fact he was merely sated. Despite his long ride, one plate of food sufficed. He had always been a man who ate quickly, more to fill his stomach than for the pleasure of the taste of food. Pleasure he left to his drink, and he now made a tiny motion with his hand, calling one of the servants nearer to pour him another brimming gobletful of wine. He lifted the golden cup to his lips again and drank with his eyes closed, as though trying to exorcise the image of fornicating barbarians, brother and sister to each other--it was absolutely disgusting. Perhaps they should follow the Church fathers' plan and let them civilize the barbarians. It would take the warrior out of them anyway.

But he didn't want the country to be united under the Pope or even under God. He wanted Thiasa to be united under him.

Perhaps King Aedan wasn't what you would call a very good Catholic.

"That's very horrible," he said bluntly, when he set down his wineglass and licked his lips, running a hand over his face to get the last of the droplets from his beard. "No wonder they're so backward if they can't even reach outside the family for a marriage! Maybe it's the curse of their paganism to be so ignorant. Or perhaps it's their stupidity only." He shrugged. "In any case you shouldn't have much trouble with them--dealing with the barbarians is a lot like dealing with children. I could always placate you with a sweet." He smiled at his brother, a little sideways smile. In truth Fergus had never needed much placating. He'd followed along in Aedan's schemes and play as easily as a sheep.

"And for that I am grateful, brother. I should like the chance to be more useful to you before I die."

Again that tone! That completely sober tone that he could simply not believe. It set the little hairs on the back of his neck prickling with unease. Like the chance to be more useful before he died. It was throwing something back at him, but what? His uncaring? His brother's knowledge that he was self-sacrificing? Well, that was hardly King Aedan's fault, was it?

He barely concealed a growl of frustration and leaned toward his younger brother. "Just tell me what it bloody is you want to say." Somehow he kept his tone light, joking. "You don't want this assignment? I could well send Newbury."

"So it would appear." He shrugged as he spoke, appearing not to care very much. But then he usually appeared not to care very much, so there was nothing unusual about that. As he ate much slower than his brother he was still eating when Aedan pushed his plate away and signalled for wine. Pausing for a second with a strip of meat held between his fingers he watched as Aedan drank deeply from the cup, looking as if he intended to drain it.

The situation was almost amusing. Aedan drank heavily in public and had no worries about it during meals, while Fergus drank himself into a stupor in his room several nights a week and tried to hide the evidence. Both of them drank heavily, but their approaches were so different. With a slight shake of his head - more of a twitch than anything else - he went back to eating.

It was probably a combination of factors, Fergus believed that the barbarians weren't stupid. They were intelligent in their own way, and he was sure than any fighting wasn't going to be clear sailing for the Thiasans. No, where they fell down was technology. Their weapons were fine for a past age, it didn't make them any less intelligent. Just less developed. Aedan seemed to like remembering that Fergus had always come down firmly on his side, and he smiled back. Not the sideways smile, but a slightly bashful one which put him in the role of younger, adoring sibling again. "I never was a child trying to defend my own rights, brother. You know I will only ever follow you."

There was barely suppressed frustration in Aedan's posture, and it looked to Fergus as if anything he said could send him into a rage. His tone was light, almost joking, at odd with the words and the rest of his body language. Fergus felt his composure go for a split second, felt the deep rooted fear display itself in his eyes for the briefest of moments before he dragged it back under control, forcing his body to relax as much as possible. Not one noble seemed immune to the tension surrounding the king and his heir, and he could feel the weight of their inquisitive gazes as the conversation became brittle or dried out. Maybe they didn't know the problem, but they knew there was one.

A smile was pushed onto his face, an easy one designed to dismiss Aedan's fears and suspicions as his fingers were wiped one last time and folded under his chin."It will be a challenge, that's all. Negotiating with the barbarians isn't something I've done before, I wouldn't want to disappoint you." The motives may vary a bit, but he'd never want to disappoint Aedan. He'd do his very best to avoid it as well, and he didn't think he'd failed yet.

"In truth, I will be glad for some time away from court." He paused for a second, looking around at the gathered courtiers. Timing was everything, if he gave Aedan a few moments to jump to the worst conclusions - and his brother was getting increasingly paranoid, so it wasn't as if he was going to have to wait long - before pulling the metaphorical rug out from under his feet, then he could perhaps subtly suggest that no matter what he appeared to be saying, he was innocent. "There seems to be nothing to do here but intrigue unnecessarily, and you know I've never liked those games." Then again, it could backfire spectacularly, he hadn't tried it before.

"I never was a child trying to defend my own rights, brother. You know I will only ever follow you."

Aedan softened a little, smiling more genuinely back at his brother when he said this, and flung an arm spontaneously around his shoulders before he drew back--almost more a signal to the people at court that there was no enmity between the brothers. Oh, he knew King-watching was a sport amongst the lords and ladies of Thiasa, and he rued it. But there was very little he could do about it except give them a show, like a performing bear. And that was how they viewed him: large, dangerous... tame and muzzled for now but they knew he had power over them.

Noticing his cup was empty and quite aware of the king's proclivities, a servant darted forward to fill it again. King Aedan nodded very slightly in thanks and toyed with his goblet before drinking, watching the candlelight reflect off the rubies set into the gold of the vessel. These rich surroundings--the tapestries hanging from the walls, muffling the noise in the room, the silver platters, the circlet at his brow--none of this would have been his had his father hesitated.

"There seems to be nothing to do here but intrigue unnecessarily, and you know I've never liked those games."

Again the enigma. At his brother's words, Aedan forgot about his next cup of wine. The two he'd had already had begun to loosen him a little, and maybe blur his vision just slightly around the edges--and make him more ready to respect belligerently to anything that struck him as wrong.

What Fergus could mean by what he'd said was the straightforward truth: he hadn't been involved in any intrigue and he didn't want to be. Or he could mean that he was involved and was declaiming it, so that Aedan wouldn't be suspicious. But what he certainly implied was that someone was plotting--someone, even if not him; and Aedan knew that in such a young kingdom, power was transitory if it wasn't firmly grasped.

"Intrigue," he said sharply, leaning forward with his forearms on the table and staring about the room, finding cruel joy in watching the ones whose faces had been turned up towards him--shamelessly curious--bend quickly back to their meals, pretending they hadn't been gawping at their king. He rubbed his hands together, feeling his sword-callouses abrade each other like sandpaper. "Tell me, brother, what intrigue have you noticed? My spymaster is overburdened, maybe you can help. Is it the Lord Argyle? Or the Lord Bristol? Or the Lady Drake?" He had now raised his voice so that it rang out across the chamber. "Tell me, who here questions their King?"

Dead silence in the room as all chatter ebbed. Not a knife scraped across a trencher, not a whisper stirred the stillness.

What he said seemed to work, as Aedan's attitude softened and an arm was flung briefly around his shoulders. It was hard to stay still, Fergus wasn't known for being accepting of physical gestures and coming from his brother he was even more wary of them. Aedan had never bothered asking about it, and he'd never protested even if he sometimes got alarmed to the point where he thought Aedan had a concealed blade in his hand. He always relaxed more when Aedan left contact with him, and he moved towards the wine goblet again to try and conceal it. His was still half full, wine was a beverage to be appreciated more with flavours that needed to be savoured. The hurling down the throat he reserved for a far more potent brew which resulted in the drinker not being able to taste anything for hours afterwards.

As soon as he saw Aedan leaving the newly filled wine cup, he knew he'd said the wrong thing. Again. Why couldn't he have just stayed stuck at seven? No one would have questioned the role he usually played then. But as he leaned forwards with his forearms resting on the table, Fergus had to stop sighing in relief. He'd said the wrong thing, he was in trouble, but he wasn't the only one. Aedan's wrath would not be focused solely on him. Selfish, but he didn't want and couldn't have the full force of Aedan's anger against him. Most of the nobles were looking away, conversation died out, people stopped moving until there was a tableau before them. A room full of people still and silent as the grave, waiting for what Fergus was going to say. He was the younger brother, dedicated and perhaps not the sharpest when it came to personal gain, but he knew things. He watched, he listened, and he over analysed. If he said something was going on, there were good grounds to believe that there was. He took a deep breath, trying to appear relaxed.

"Not one questions you and your authority, as far as I can tell they work within their own spheres to increase their own power at the expense of the other families." He cast his eyes around the room, seeking information. There were always rumours and stories and things going on, things he could use. He dropped his voice, twitching his fingers out of their clasped position only briefly to indicate where someone was. "The young Lady on that table over there, for example, the one in yellow, a dependant relative of my Lord Argyle just brought to court. She is being positioned towards becoming a mistress to one of us. The gentleman seated three seats from her right, a cousin of my Lord Bristol, had been instructed to block her while becoming a trusted favourite himself and encouraging the suit of his sister, the moon faced young lady on the other side of the hall. As they are both women, any favours they may get for their services will naturally go back to the Lords Argyle and Bristol while the boy will be looking for a position of power which he can use to further his own name." What the consequences would be he didn't know, but it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Just the usual struggle for power.

Before continuing he took another sip of wine, his throat was suddenly very dry and coughing halfway through a sentence wouldn't look good. "My Lady Drake's situation is a slightly different one. Her marriage was arranged, you recall, and she and her husband have been estranged for some years. Her husband has recently started to arrange their eldest daughters marriage, to a close friend of Lord Heaton. Lady Drake's family has traditionally been against the family for personal reasons, and so she is in the process of convincing my Lord Lawley that her daughter is madly in love with him. Such an act would avoid the Heatons, and as Lord Lawley is, shall we say, not exactly a book keeper and her daughter would be too young to run a fiefdom, she would perhaps be thanked for overseeing affairs." Another shrug, almost careless as he tried to indicate that these manoeuvres were hardly important. The only one with ramifications would be Lady Drake's as he couldn't imagine that his brother would start bestowing favours on young girls he'd bedded, but it was hardly likely to succeed. Their daughter was in her father's care, and he doubted that Lord Lawley was looking for someone of lower rank. Besides, he'd always imagined that as he was the ruler of a fiefdom his brother would be the one arranging a match.

The three nobles the King had mentioned relaxed when no more audible words issued from the high table... but they took great care to distract attention from themselves, despite the fact that the gaze of most of the courtiers now fixed upon them.

Aedan turned back to his brother at last.

"You know I favor none of the women here," he said at last, frowning and stroking his chin. "Particularly not the Lady Bristol, or even the Lady Argyle. We need a foreign alliance, but we also need an heir apart from you." Because his brother might well die, and then where would he be? Neither of his sisters had issue, and he was thirty, and still without a wife. Damn his father! Much as he admired the man, he had been too much concerned with military affairs and not concerned enough with the politics that could make or break the nascent kingdom.

"As for you, my brother, you won't marry until I do." This was for several reasons. One, if the younger brother got sons before the elder... well, it might sway public opinion even further. "It's like horse-riding. It should go in order of age." This was only to lighten the mood. Another reason: a wife might whisper treasonous poison in his brother's ear. King Aedan was not so naïve as to think that women didn't scheme--they were the worst of all.

He let his shoulders slump and reached again for his glass of wine. Once he married and got an heir he could lead a full-on war into barbarian territory. They would be crushed within the year, he was absolutely sure. But first he'd have to get an heir, and consult a soothsayer just to make absolutely certain...

In the meantime he could chip away at the barbarian resolve.

"But you will go to the border, won't you? The eastern barbarians will be the first to fall when we mount our attack." His tone had become more coaxing, more conciliatory.

The walls seemed to sigh in relief as the only thing that came out of Fergus's mouth was tales of seduction, scandalous but nothing to get upset about. The three nobles in question didn't try to hide their relief and tried to act normally, but with everyone staring at them it was hard. The people he'd mentioned in connection with them were too far away to have heard what he said, but all the same they were looking uncomfortable, guessing from the rapidly repeated tales that they were involved.

At length Aedan said that he favoured none of the women here. Fergus nodded, it was true, and he'd never been able to work out whether his brother really wasn't interested or if he was constantly thinking politically. Either way, as his brother didn't favour women Fergus tried not to either, least he somehow upset some plan of his brothers. Sooner or later it was going to lead to rumours about Adean's preferences, Fergus hadn't encountered any yet but his brother was thirty, had never been married and only had a brother for an heir. A younger brother, who also had little to do with women. Sometimes in his most cynical states he was surprised that he hadn't heard anything about them going native and taking up the barbarian custom of incest. The sooner Aedan could secure himself a wife, the better.

"The Lady Bristol is perhaps a little on the thin side." His actual opinion was that she looked like a stick, but he wasn't going to say that. Not mentioning the needing of an heir apart from him seemed the safest course, after all when he was displaced things were going to get extremely touchy for a while, and he didn't want to start the suspicions now if he could avoid it. "I am sure someone suitable will be presented to us soon enough." Preferably sooner rather than later, of course. Thiasa was stable compared to Scalia, as strange as the concept seemed. One noble surely would see the use of marrying off a daughter to gain a stable ally who's troops didn't want to disband to get the harvest in every year.

One eyebrow raised on his otherwise still face, the only physical indication he'd give all night that he had his own thoughts. "Perhaps we should have a joint ceremony and marry ladies from either side of the war." If they did, it would prove to be an interesting night. Fergus sometimes wanted to marry, but in all honesty he couldn't really imagine it. The only person who really had demands on him was Aedan, and he'd be reluctant to compromise that or give up any privacy he had. Adean drank heavily, but he probably wouldn't be happy to find that Fergus did as well. Perhaps once Adean had children he'd never let Fergus marry, with no heir it was less likely that people with an eye for the long term would support him in any uprising. Either way, he wasn't going to marry anyone without his brother's consent.

Aedan's tone was coaxing, friendly, as if he was trying to make up for demanding Fergus expose the intrigues he knew of. Adean would never apologise to the court for scaring them, and never directly, but from him a friendly tone was enough. "Of course I will go, as soon as you wish me to." Early tomorrow would be good. The eastern tribe would fall eventually, as would the western one. No matter if they were intelligent or not, their technology and battle strategy wouldn't allow them to win against the Thiasans. "May I ask who you intend to send to deal with the western tribe?" While there might be an uneasy truce, the groups were distinctly different. Dealing with one alone wasn't going to work.

"Ha!" Aedan actually laughed at his brother's first suggestion. "Well, I'm negotiating with Blauvelt for the hand of his youngest. She should be arriving any day now, actually... of course the Blauvelt Barony is set against Hadrian just as well as we are. But I've been talking to Lilienthal for Cliona." He had told her about this the other night, after he'd already sent the messenger across the Channel. "She's amenable to it even though Lilienthal is still a loyalist barony. But then they needn't know we're also in negotiation with Blauvelt, eh? I'd offer you to Lilienthal too, but we want to stretch our alliance prospects as far as they can go. Once I'm done negotiating with these two I'm heading further inward for you and Erin. Strike at the heart! And yes--absolutely going to play both sides. What a canny politician you make, brother."

His tone was absolutely sardonic, and he didn't even meet Fergus's eyes as he took another long drin of wine. When he had finished the goblet he set it down, now flushed with drink, and looked around the room. That Argyle girl wasn't bad-looking, but good luck with her uncle's plans for her. He was looking elsewhere, and damned if he wouldn't make good on the first alliance he bloody well could.

"May I ask who you intend to send to deal with the western tribe?"

The king shrugged at this. "I'd thought Sir Aldridge could manage," he said, naming a minor knight who had some knowledge of the barbarian language and could hire a translator besides. "He's served me well enough, and we already have the hostage. All that remains are the negotations. We can get gold out of him, and perhaps a treaty as to the land. We might drive him back from the Oran River; that would be a coup, and with no bloodshed, too."

A few people looked around when Aedan laughed, clearly wondering what Fergus had said. He wasn't entirely sure either, but you'd never tell. Blauvelt's youngest. Fergus knew shamefully little about Scalia, he'd never even seen the land. Aedan had been five when he left it, but he seemed to know so much more about it than his younger brother did. She must be quite young though, and hopefully she'd have enough sense not to cross Aedan. He knew enough to know that Lilienthal was on the other side though, both to Blauvelt and them. He was always slightly surprised to find that they were involved in a war in Scalia, the country didn't seem to touch them unless it came to international affairs. Maybe he just didn't pay enough attention to it.

He wasn't surprised to find that Aedan hadn't arranged a marriage for him. The move would have made little sense, if he was going to be married - which he did in fact doubt - then it wouldn't be until after Aedan felt secure in his own marriage, preferably with an heir or two. Erin, he was sure, would be married off in due course, once they found an allegiance they needed. Whether or not any of them - including Aedan - wanted to marry their chosen partners was entirely irrelevant. The sardonic tone caught him slightly off guard, ad he was left for a second rapidly thinking of a response as Aedan drowned his wine, not looking at him. "I learn from the best, brother." His tone, in contrast, was neutral as he resisted the temptation to pick up a piece of bread and nervously crumble it between his fingers.

When finished his brother's gaze turned to the Argyle girl again, Fergus thought he detected appreciation in the gaze, but there was nothing there to suppose that she'd have an invitation to his bed. Not until he had a wife, anyway, and Aedan couldn't be pushed to marry her. Perhaps after that he might consider taking a mistress or three. Perhaps he wouldn't object to Fergus taking one, as he was going to be waiting so long to be married.

Sir Aldridge, a man Fergus knew as well. A steady man who'd served well in the past, he'd be a good choice. It was unlikely that he'd sell out to the barbarians in any case, as a minor noble with no claim to any throne and no particular standing there was no reason why the barbarians would support him towards a position of power if he left. Not with someone like Fergus on the field. He wasn't sure if it was safer to be out of Aedan's sight or in it, there'd probably be numerous spies with his party when he left. It would mean that he was going to have to watch the drink, among other things.

"It would indeed, I will speak to him about the best way to approach the situation before I go." Eventually there would be bloodshed, even if they could get the river without it. But until then, Fergus imagined that Aedan wanted them kept quiet and suppressed rather than actually fighting.

"You do that, I don't want you running off and doing anything rash," Aedan murmured. Though of course if his brother's rashness resulted in gained ground and control over the Oran River... well, he didn't mind if he lost the brother to the bargain. Not at all.

He'd once been rather fond of Fergus, but lately there was an unbroachable rift between them. It seemed they were both holding secrets from each other. Well, so was everyone, thought the king, sitting back with one arm crossed over his chest, the other hand holding his goblet of wine, kept full by the nervously darting servant boy. If anyone wanted to poison him they'd know how. It was a testament to the fact that no one apparently did that he was still alive.

Fact was, he did gain something from keeping the kingdom teetering on the edge. Right now, he was the only figure of authority. If he got a marriage soon, he would have that too; but it was almost better to hold the power of negotiation over the heads of his people. For if they killed him now, they'd anger Scalia too, and he knew they knew it. And not only that--their entire way of life would be threatened with him gone.

Aedan knew he wasn't the perfect king. God knows, he knew. But the people needed a king. They needed a ruler. And it hardly mattered, really... who it was. For now it happened to be him. And what made a king a great king was simply and only this: his ability to hold onto his power.

"I think I'll retire soon," he said at last, watching Fergus from the corner of his eye. The boy wasn't drinking now, but Aedan thought he had seen him hungover a few days ago. Or perhaps just ill. He reminded himself to ask the servants if they brought his brother anything at night. If it was solitary drinking so be it; but if he was entertaining others--even talking to the servants... he would need more ears among them. "Tomorrow we have a hunt. Almost as exciting as a real battle; we can practice." And once again, the dry, flat tone.

Fergus had to stop himself giving Aedan a disbelieving look. When exactly had he been rash? Sometimes he was perhaps less than sensible in his actions, but he refused to believe that he was rash. It was far more Aedan's style, he analysed everything to death before acting if given the chance. At least as it had been delivered in a murmur Aedan might be acknowledging the fact that it wasn't something Fergus did, however much he might wish his brother to save him the bother of killing him later by charging at someone screaming. "I can assure you, I will plan meticulously beforehand." He said, before draining the last of his own wine and nodding when the boy offered him more. Aedan was on his third cup, by Fergus' counting, although as the boy refilled it every time it started looking a bit low it was hard to tell.

The statement was almost surprising, although Fergus didn't show it, choosing to nod in response instead. Usually they seemed to be up later than this, but then perhaps it was just the stress of the evening effecting his sense of time. There was no stopping Aedan retiring in any case, the same way that there was no stopping the intrigues. Half of them went on only at night, in private rooms between trusted allies. Friends was pushing it.

Even without facing his brother he could tell that he was being given an inquisitive look, the hairs on the back of his neck were gradually prickling as upright as they could go. A very few things could gain this response, and the most likely was that Aedan was looking at him in a way that generally set alarm bells off. He took a gulp of wine - larger then necessary - before turning to face his brother. The older man was watching him out of the corner of his eye, which was never a good sign. What he'd done to get this look he didn't know, he wasn't behaving oddly or in any way that had aroused suspiscion in the past. Swiftly he swept his eyes over the court again, trying to ignore the feeling of being watched.

A hunt. Fergus had to stop himself stiffening at the mention of it. The tracking and killing of animals he didn’t mind, it was the dangers involved. If someone - namely him - was hit and killed by an arrow, then it would be only too easy to pass it off as an accident. Tragic, and he'd be mourned, but it would be one less problem as far as Aedan was concerned. The flat, dry tone did indicate that there was nothing he should be worrying about, but at the same time he couldn't help it. Almost as good as a real battle, where people died in their hundreds and no one knew what was going on or who stabbed who.

All the same, he gave an interested yet slightly vacant smile as he faced Aedan. Pretending everything was fine was fine by him.
"What have your foresters and gamekeepers sighted, my lord brother?" Generally they'd sighted something for these trips, although in reality there was no need for the king and his court to go crashing through the undergrowth to find it as they had food aplenty. It would mean an early start, so perhaps he'd have to lay off the drink tonight. After years of practice he could hide most hangovers, but riding with one was not an experience he wanted to undergo again.

"Stag, brother, and quite an impressive one, with his herd. Very nearby, less than an hour's ride at last sighting, though of course--" He shrugged. "We'll have to send out more riders early tomorrow, but..." He made a sweeping motion. These minutia really didn't concern him at all. He loved the hunt, though, even if in an ideal world he would go alone. For a king who was always surrounded by people--his family, courtiers, young ladies attempting to fling themselves at him, his councilors--he valued solitude uniquely.

The world was going blurry around the edges. It was, without a doubt, time to call an end to the night and retreat to his chambers, where he could plan out the hunt. And whatever his brother might think--if he were the paranoid sort (and only those guilty of something were paranoid, King Aedan firmly believed), he'd hardly be so stupid as to kill his brother in full view of everyone in the court or on the hunt.

"Good night, brother. Sleep well." He stood up; the hall stood with him, pushing their seats back with a great scraping of wood across stone, and all bowed or curtsied. Aedan smiled. God help him he liked the spectacle of a room full of people, all showing their subservience to him. It was perhaps the only really enjoyable thing about being king he got to experience on a daily basis. His wealth went unnoticed, and his crown was a burden. But his treatment at the hands of even those who hated him... that was worth every nightmare and every worry.

A stag. Well, they hadn't had one of those for a while, it should prove to be good hunting. A heard as well. If they found it then they'd have a feast in the not too distant future. It had always bemused Fergus that, for all animals had greater senses than humans, the court could successfully trap and kill them. He'd have thought that the signs of a court descending on them would be clear, they were hardly quiet. "Of course." He didn't bother asking if Aedan had seen to arranging this, even if he hadn't the men knew the drill well enough to know what was expected of them.

As Aedan stood so did everyone else, Fergus included. While Aedan's vision may have been blurry around the edges Fergus' was fine, he hadn't drunk nearly enough for it to have that sort of effect on him. There was no sign of any effects of alcohol on Aedan as he said goodnight, as usual they either weren't there or were being well hidden. "Goodnight, my lord brother." As he spoke he bowed, Aedan always liked knowing that he was in control. He seemed to get some sort of plasure out of the show of subservience in any case, whenever it happened he smiled. Even if he'd had a bad day.

When he left, the meal was officially over. Fergus waited until he left the room before glancing around at the gathered nobility. Some of them had sat down again, most were waiting. With a final glance over them, he walked away from the table and out of the hall through a side door. Behind him people began to talk loudly as serving men started removing the bowls. Soon the benches would be moved out the way, and the room readied for night as the nobility retired or plotted in corners.