Vicious Serpents & Deceitful Poisons

Chapter Two

“Your highness, your father is requesting your presence at the tenth chime.“ The messenger bows as he says his piece and Kauvara thanks him for his service. Isabelle and Rowena watch the messenger scurry back towards the castle and away from the odorous horse stable before speaking.
“Your highness,” Rowena curtsies as she addresses the princess, allow me to quickly draw a bath for you.”
"Does my smell really offend you that muchg. ” She smirks and Isabelle inteerjects with a smirk of her own.
" Well, you only have been riding that beast for half the day,” she says, giving a sideways glance towards Nightdancer, a champion class warhorse that has been by Kauvara’s side since she was ten, the age she had been when her father had decided she was worthy of his attention.
And then I had to throw it all away.
Kauvara nods accepting Rowena's request as she tried to keep the memories of that day at bay.
“Princess, allow me,” Isabelle takes the reigns of Nightdancer and offered out a hand for Kauvara as help. She instead sniffed at the audacity of the gesture and flipped herself off the tall horse, landing firmly on the spongey, dirt ground,
She could tell Isabelle was resisting the urge to roll her eyes, just as she herself resisted the urge from fully becoming friends with the two girls who had been her maidservant all her life. But she couldn’t. That smirk was already cutting it too close, a line she didn’t dare cross. At least, after the incident. Going any further could ruin the image she had had to work hard to rebuild over the past three years.
A future queen should value the respect of her subjects over any inane thing like friendship.

She watched as Isabella handed the reigns of Nightdancer to a stableboy before turning around towards the palace for a quick wash and afterwards, a meeting with the King.

Of course, it wasn't a one on one meeting with the King.

As Kauvara, walked eloquently into the War Room -a fitting name as trying to get your idea across in there certainly felt like war- dressed in a loose summer blue dress that rippled out in waves just above the floor, it hadn't really occurred to her that her father would summon her to talk about anything else than the way she had ended the courtship with the prince of Osurmis.

But looking now at the faces gathered; the thirteen councilors, one of which was her older brother, Neehamide, the gruff of a man or "The Bloodied One" as some of the commoners referred to him in whispered haste to one another, at the head of the large black and white onyx table, and the empty chair to Councilor Labethes side, Kauvara began to realize this was just another councilor meeting.

"Your Majesty," Kauvara bows low as was proper when addressing one in such a high position as the King.

Regarding her with a disinterested look, he waved a hand, allowing her to take her place between Councilor Lambeth and her brother.

The council resumed talking of how to effectively raise taxes on the common folk when Kauvara felt something fall onto her lap.

Looking down, she saw a balled up piece of parchment. Narrowing her eyes at Neehamide, who she knew threw the paper, with ease, pretended to be invested in the discussion.

If only I had the patience and slyness for that, Kauvara sighed as she deftly unfolded the piece of paper.

But alas, she didn't. If Neehamide was forged in the ice cold waters of politics and deception, she was forged in the intense fire of battle. Where he was endlessly patient, she was brash, restless when it came time to sit down and listen, restless when it came time to anything but fighting. Where he was poker faced and calm in every situation, Kauvara only felt that way in the heat of battle, otherwise she could barely restrain herself just enough to hide her emotions for just a moment.

Father is in a bad mood. I recommend you don't do anything to worsen it.

Kauvara sneaked a glance at the Almighty, King Aramis the third, a prestigious title that many feared and hated. After all, he was the reason why the Kingdom of Keeves was always at war. Why many people have lost loved ones to the war. Why everyone was on their toes, wondering what next, will bring about the next war.

Whether it was for senseless expansion or a slight mishap he couldn't ignore, King Aramis reveled in starting and winning wars. Perhaps it was this state that the kingdom was in, a state of newfound peace that made him on edge.

Kauvara herself would be lying if she said she wasn't on edge herself. She would be lying if she said she didn't miss the action, the quick, on the fly decisions that war produced. She trusted herself with a sword in her hand and a scheme in her mind, she couldn't trust herself in knowing how to diplomatically hold onto peace.

"As I was saying, the plaque has now invaded past the Wilds and to the edge of the lower lands," Mormis, the councilor of agriculture & land announced. Voices rise as each person expressed their concerns and Kauvara's ears perked at the troubling news.

The plaque. A mysterious sickness that affected all forms of life. Humans, wild animals, livestock, plants and animals. Even the crops the kingdom sustained itself on. It was like a seventy foot wave, killing everything in its path.

No one knows how exactly it started. Was it natural, a thing that no conscious decision or action had bearing on. Personally, Kauvara believed it was that, simply a thing of natural causes that was always inevitably going to happen. But some others speculated it was of supernatural origin. Some thought it as punishment from the gods for the wars the King had started. Others think it is the work of a trickster demon who would not be appeased until he was sacrificed fifty light haired maidens.

Kauvara did not believe in the gods, something that if said would be turned against her by the Priestess. Or rather she did. She believed they existed, that the Spirit Realm existed, and that some unique group of people could harness the magic from the Spirit Realm to do their bidding. She just didn't believe that the gods listened to prayers, cared about mortal plights, or involved themselves in human affairs. As she grew older, she began to understood you could not pray and ignorantly believe that the unsympathetic gods would help you. You were your own hope and she be damned if she naively placed her faith in the hands of some aloof god.

"The plaque has spread farther than we thought it would in such a short amount of time. The peasants have begun to panic that many of them are dying. Not to mention that at the rate the plaque is killing the livestock and crops, there won't be nearly enough food for everyone."

Kauvara bit the inside of her cheek, her brows furrowed as she listened to the councillors talk over each other thought of the predicament the were in.

With crops and food becoming scarce, the price for such things would skyrocket, without even mentioning all the other things that would soar in prices as and effect. Other countries were hesitant to even offer trade with Keeves because of their history and so they were mostly self sufficient.

And even if they were suddenly willing to trade, they would raise prices as well, knowing we were desperate enough. Causing a rise in overall buying prices in the market. She could easily see the peasantry starting a rebellion over this and she didn't like thinking of the full blown civil war that could ensue. They needed a quick final end to this plaque, something that would at least slow it down enough for the people to gather resources and think of a permanent solution.

Except they had already tried everything they could. They had quarantined the sicks, burned the dead, ripped the diseased plants from the ground. But it wasn't enough. Even the potions and drugs the magic sector and medical sectors had produced only slowed down the disease in a human for a day or two before it came raging back. And there wasn't even a temporary cure for animals or plants.

There was nothing they could do.

And this was only fueling the cultists who believed a sacrifice was necessary.

What a complete mess.

"For now," Councillor Florimas or Her Holiness the Sacred Priestess as she was better known, stood up, arms held loftily in robes of white towards the heavens as she continued talking, "We must pray to the gods and our ancestors to protect us in these trying times and to give us a solution to these worrying problems."

Inwardly Kauvara could only frown at the Priestess's words.

The gods will not help us. If we die, it is because we did not fight hard enough.