Rage and Rebellion (Histories of Havenhearth)

4.5 Chancellor

The chancellor rode towards the Herb Hills on the road she had had built, which had come on a long way since she had last visited.  Granted it was not a difficult project, but it did take time and money and toil to first clear and then flatten the untouched ground. Sometimes this involved falling trees, moving boulders, digging down small mounds and filling in dips in the ground. The road was indeed lengthening though, and a number of Cassioni labourers worked tirelessly, the sweat causing their shirts to cling to their backs in the heat of the summer.
The bigger challenge would come when they eventually reached the Herb Hills and the tunnelling began. Once the tunnel was built, it would allow transport between Nordmontline and Chevelles via the walled city of Charroux, without having to pass over the Hills- indeed it would mean the region, one of the poorest and more remote in Cassion, would develop and prosper. In years when Angounesse experienced droughts, the region would starve. But this road, it would allow for grain to be transported to the starving, books to those who wished to learn, and trade and technology to those who wanted to prosper. It was a noble endeavour and one in which the Cassioni might have struggled to achieve without foreign expertise. But the Chancellor, at the heart of the project, would be thanked for it, paving her way up to the ladder of the Legis and then the ascendancy. Her tolerance for the fiends would not have to last forever.

The site supervisor, a young Cassioni woman of only sixteen, but chosen for her position since she had completed her training in Tainland, saw the chancellor and came over to say hello.
"What a happy surprise to have you with us today, chancellor," she greeted her with the standard lean in and double cheek kiss.
"The happy surprise is mine Laure, you have made good progress."
"We have much to learn," she returned. "Any news from town?"
"Some foreigners are arriving soon, I will be happy to show them the progress you've made here."
"The roads we build make travel much faster and safer."
"Quite,"
"Do you know who is coming?"
"I believe you know one of them: Floren Cheshiring."
"I do." Laure's forehead creased, she was not a fan, the woman was dangerous.
"And the historian Cerys Chastain is coming too. And the niece of the candle merchant. Now let us talk building,"
And they walked over to a small tent, inside of which there was a small table covered in maps and parchments, diving into discussions about the timing of the project and the planning of the tunnel.
A short while later, one of the workers came over and waited patiently at the entry of the tent. "Yes?" Laure asked him. The chancellor listened to the quick discussion between them.
"What a happy coincidence," she interrupted. "It seems my timing could not have been any better," one of the workers had spotted a small mule train descending from the dark peaks of the Herb Hills and using a glass of magnification, had made out three foreigners walking alongside.

It was an hour before the party left the mountain the jagged peaks of the Herb Hills behind them, and the last descent out of the mountains revealed a flat countryside broken up by rocky outcroppings, which eventually gave way to clumps of shrubs. It took another hour for the party to cross through this terrain to reach the work tent, right at the end of the road construction.

When they finally neared the worksite, the chancellor sent one of the labourers over to greet them and bring them back to the work tent. She waited outside as they approached, surprised at the sparsity of their caravan- there was no wagon- they had walked themselves with a couple of horses. Maybe this group was of a new generation, not as entitled or as snobbish as those which came before them.
"Hello esteemed new arrivals. It is a pleasure to host you here in Chevelles. I hope the journey was an enjoyable one."
"Not sure if enjoyable is the right word, but it is nice to see you." Floren Cheshirering did not follow the social conventions of just thanking the chancellor for receiving them. "Thank you for welcoming us," Bernebe added, worried they would offend her.
"Cheshirering and I have met before, but I did not have the pleasure of getting to know him very well. I am familiar with your writings." The chancellor addressed the historian, whose cheeks flushed, promptly forgetting her piqued curiosity about the two of them knowing each other before - it was always nice to be recognised for one's work.
"I have much to learn,"
"And you must be the candle merchant's niece, is it?" Cerys glanced at Bernebe, who nodded at her. "I have much to learn," Cerys practiced the saying Bernebe had taught her which went unheard, due to a noise nearby, which not only drowned her out, but caused them all to drop their trains of thought, turning their heads towards the disturbance. An argument had erupted from closer down in the worksite.
Two people shouted at each other, and Cerys guessed one of them was a cook of some kind. She was quite surprised that such a loud argument was being had within earshot of the chancellor, but rather than go to see what the noise was about, or even to resolve the issue, the chancellor waited for the disagreement and the noise to subside. The chancellor turned back to Cerys as if nothing had happened, who turned red and managed to squeak out the saying a second time, feeling foolish.
"Your Cassioni is excellent. I would be honoured if, once you've had some time to settle down, I could organise a formal welcome for you all."
Floren offered a casual nod, while Bernebe translated for Cerys, then said to the chancellor,
"That would be our absolute honour,"
Cerys looked back at the chancellor in somewhat of a daze. The last few days had taken all of her energy, and she was in need of a bath, a good hot meal, and a sleep in a proper bed.
"May the spirits guide you well." The chancellor said as a little test, noticing the little glance the two men gave each other. Probably, thankfully, aspiritualist.
"And you," Bernebe replied automatically.

She watched as the horses and their Cassioni accompaniment set off to make the remainder of their trip into their new hometown, thinking about, as she always did, her next moves. Cheshirering was back, and she could not tell what this could do for her just yet.