Mwari Chronicles

Chapter 4

There was a saying by the itobantu tribe of Valon, which goes as follows. "Politics is a hyena laughing besides you, soon enough it would try to eat you."

No truer words had been spoken in the eyes of Natasha Hachibambo, Queen of Valon. These words had been driven into her mind since she was a young naive girl, freshly married to the prince of Valon and with dreams of childish fantasy, born from a low born girl who had thought her life a fairytale.

Her time in the war had dulled much of her expectations, but it was her time in the court that had completely shattered them. War was a crucible of blood and fire, the enemy was known and the engagement predictable. Politics on the other hand was superficial, craven and somehow even more spiteful than an enemy whose brother you had slain.

The House of Law, the parliamentary and legislative heart of Valons government stood at the heart of the royal palace, its marble walls lined with images of monarchs, First Ministers and cabinets from ages past who had driven Valon's development across the ages.

Today one hundred parliamentarians and the most important stakeholders of Valon filled the chamber. Intermixed amongst them were the diplomats from across the whole world. Envoys from the Ocean Lords,  Unar Empire, Marthon League and many others watched intently. Their eyes fixed on the heart of the room, upon which a throne of obsidian stone rested upon on an elevated dais.

The throne was a powerful symbol, but it was the man who sat boldly upon it who had attracted so many eyes that they reminded Natasha of a thousand little red rat eyes in the dark.

Natasha would have liked to seat besides her husband, the Mwami of Valon, but she had diverged from that path long ago. She made her duty to be his shadow, to cast webs in which his enemies would be ensnared, to listen where he could not, to move unseen among his so-called allies and root out the ones who sought to betray him.

Thus, she sat among the assembly, not so far that it seemed she was hiding, but far enough that she never entered the thoughts of others.

Her cold golden eyes cast a wide gaze from the envoys from all the kingdoms great and small all knowing that whatever choice taken today would affect them greatly. She looked to the parliamentarians who pretended to hold a stance publicly whilst whoring themselves out to whichever faction would guarantee their bid or their allies bid for the position of First Minister.

Jon Phiri the current First Minister cast a pitiful figure in his dull blue suit that was two sizes too big and though the old elf looked exhausted, his eyes showed the same fire that had won him two terms. He was a somewhat trusted ally who she could count to control the vultures of the House of Law.

But all of that paled in comparison to the presence of one woman.

Asthor.

The old she-wolf.

She sat apart from the rest, quietly observing, her silvered hair framing an expression of unreadable calm. But Natasha knew better. She had been in this game for too long. The parliamentarians might be loud, the ambassadors might be posturing, but it was Asthor who truly moved the pieces. Her hands had shaped this meeting long before it began. It was her machinations that had led to the two High Commissioners standing before Undi now, preparing to plead their cases not to him, but to the public. To those parliamentarians who still feigned neutrality while they weighed the price of their loyalty.

Regret burned in Natasha’s chest. A day had not passed where she and Undi had not cursed themselves for their mercy at the end of the Crocodile War. Sparing Asthor’s life had been the practical choice after the brutal bloodbath of that year. But Justinian had warned them. He had told them to steel their hearts and cut the head from the serpent. And now, here she was, alive and more dangerous than ever.