Shadows: Book One of the Eligia Shala (8 page)

Phillip stood forward, next to his cousin. “Well, gentlemen, do I have a new Flight to add to my army? Will you follow Princess Jenevra as the new Imperial Protector?”

Twenty two voices shouted their agreement, and the Shadow Flight was born.

Later that afternoon, when the members of the newly formed Shadow Flight had been settled into their new barracks within the Imperial compound, and had gone back to the courtyard under Brogan’s experienced eye to work on basic drills, Jenevra stood watching them with Raik. Her eyes took in each of the men as she questioned Raik about who they were and what they knew about them. She assessed each one’s speed, flexibility and willingness to take orders from one of their own. Periodically, Brogan would march smartly over to her and ask for her opinion or for new directions. “Thanks for putting Brogan in there,” she murmured squinting at the man whose throat she had closed earlier. “He’s going to be trouble,” she nodded her head towards him. “Theiss, you said his name was?”

“Will Theiss, from Trevannta: comes to you direct from your favorite Flight leader, Captain Pichot.” The Commander’s mouth tightened. “I think you’re right about him being trouble though. Are you sure you want to keep him? You really don’t need such a hostile character in a Flight like this one.”

“He stays. I need every one of them.” Her tone was tense. “Letting him go would be admitting to the others that I can’t handle him. I can.” The finality of the statement left Raik in no doubt that Will Theiss was in for a very interesting education.

As the afternoon wore on, Jenevra left Raik and went out to begin working with her new command. Much to their collective disgust, she informed them that they would be doing more than just sword and unarmed combat drills; they would also be running and climbing every day. Of course, it had to be Will Theiss who argued out loud. “We’ve never done this sort of training before.” Folding his hugely muscled arms defiantly, he looked around at the rest of the Flight for support. “Captain Pichot never had us running or climbing.”

“You are supposed to be an elite force. Do you know what that means? It means you actually have to be better than all the other Flights.” Jenevra stalked across to Theiss, raising her hand towards him. Theiss took a step backwards. “You have to be stronger, faster, better trained with all weapons, and much, much fitter! When we go into action we will need to be fast and accurate; preferably silent too. We need to work together with total confidence in each other. If one person fails, the whole unit could die. That’s why we will be training every minute we have daylight.” With a sweet smile, she finished, “And that’s why you will be leading us on our first run tomorrow morning at daybreak.”

Muffled groans sounded from a few of the other men. Jenevra snapped around. “That will do, gentlemen!” The tone was harsh, and got their attention. “I won’t expect you to do anything I’m not willing to do. I will be waiting for you at daybreak. You’d better all be able to keep up. Do I make myself clear?” Eyes flashing, she turned to Brogan. “You may dismiss the men, Sergeant.”

As she strode from the courtyard, Jenevra still managed to notice that Will Theiss was last to be in place. Heartened by the fact that she saw Brogan’s eyes also narrow as he noted the same thing; the princess left the Flight in her sergeant’s capable hands.

Reassured that Jenevra’s training session was under Raik’s watchful eyes, Phillip had his next meeting with his future council. Climbing the wide stairway that led to the Council Chamber, he pondered how best to break the news to his council of advisors; particularly his Chancellor who had taken a dim view of the young Princess for many years now.

Chancellor Menzetti was at an age where retirement would be an option. He had served the Marissime family faithfully through two reigns, having been Phillip’s father’s Chancellor before his death and then again through Arrilia Neilla’s tenure. Phillip had considered replacing him as Chancellor, but the truth was that he was simply the best choice for the post. Sharp-witted and acid-tongued, he had led Embassies to almost all of the other Kingdoms at some time or another. Menzetti valued diplomacy highly, which was probably his main conflict with Princess Jenevra to whom diplomacy had always been a last resort. She had been an avid student of the act first, think later school; the absolute antithesis to Menzetti’s world.

Phillip knew that this appointment of Jenevra as Imperial Protector was likely to give the old man apoplexy, but he was convincing himself of the usefulness of the idea more each passing hour. Turning into the Imperial Council chamber and greeting his mother with a dutiful kiss, Phillip took his place at the head of the table. “Commander Rabenaldt sends his regrets. Shall we begin?”

Chancellor Menzetti rose to his feet, long elegant fingers, poet’s hands, stroking his short, white, immaculately groomed goatee. With a minimum of fuss and without referring once to his notes on the table, the Chancellor ran through the main points of interest, mostly regarding arrangements for the rapidly approaching wedding and coronation. As necessary he called upon other council members to present their information, and the meeting moved forward efficiently. Almost two hours later, coming to the end of the items for immediate attention Menzetti bowed and sat down.

“Thank you for your usual efficiency, gentlemen,” Phillip said.

“I have it on good authority that the Lady Christiana and her brothers are only a day or so away, Your Highness.” Menzetti sounded almost droll. “We thought we had better make the most of your attention while we could get it.” A gentle chuckle sounded round the chamber. Menzetti stood and began to gather his papers together; his secretary standing behind him ready to take them back to the Chancellor’s office where notes and changes would be dealt with immediately. “With your permission, Highness?” he glanced at his future Emperor who was making no sign of moving.

Phillip leaned forward, his arms on the table in front of him, his fingers locked together. “If you could give me just a few minutes more, Chancellor… ”

Chancellor Menzetti and the other council members, including the Lord Admiral, Rafael Massili, sat down. The Prince hadn’t yet brought many issues of his own to the Council.

Admiral Massili stole a surreptitious glance at Arrilia Neilla who was sitting quietly at the opposite end of the table to her son. He could tell nothing from her face and settled back into his chair to hear what Phillip had to say.

“Mother, Chancellor, gentlemen … I want you to think very carefully about what I am going to propose today.” Phillip was churning inside, but looked strong and purposeful as he faced his counselors. “You have probably heard by now that my cousin, Her Imperial Highness Jenevra Couressime has returned to court.” Rueful grins and a couple of quickly suppressed groans informed him that most of them had, indeed, heard the glad tidings. “In the past, we may have noticed a slight tendency for—how can I say this—let’s call them ‘incidents’ to abound in the vicinity of my cousin.”

“Or you could just say she’s trouble,” Rafael Massili added cheerfully.

“Rafael!” Arrilia Neilla slapped his arm. “How could you?”

Clearing his throat tactfully, Chancellor Menzetti said, “Highness, I think it safe to say that we have all noticed a certain tranquility about the palace over the last few years, which we may, possibly, ascribe to the princess’s prolonged absence from court.”

Acknowledging the truth with a slight grin Phillip continued, “I’ve given serious thought to the question of how to integrate her back into the court, without causing too many headaches for all of us, and the best I can come up with is to actually give her something to do. If we keep her busy, she won’t have time to … disturb your tranquility.”

Rumbles of approval came from the counselors. Arrilia Neilla and Chancellor Menzetti were conspicuously silent.

“Where has she been anyway?” The Lord Chamberlain, a fussy middle aged man with a penchant for vast floral displays throughout the palace, demanded. “Since when does a member of the Imperial family disappear for five years without giving an accounting to the Council?”

“I know where she’s been, my Lord Chamberlain.” Phillip announced. “My cousin and I have discussed her journey, and I’m satisfied that we have a rather changed Princess returning to us. If she chooses to discuss her time away with you that is her decision, but I forbid anyone to question her about it if she doesn’t wish to, is that clear?”

Arrilia Neilla and the Chancellor had exchanged glances during Phillip’s last speech. Forewarned by the knowledge that Jenevra had already managed to speak to Phillip alone, they knew something was coming. “Have you discussed your proposal with your cousin yet, Your Highness?” Menzetti knew the answer before he heard it.

“Of course, Chancellor. I have also discussed it with Commander Rabenaldt, who has given his approval to the plan.” He stared into his mother’s eyes, willing her to understand that if Raik agreed, it must be a good idea.

Coldly, Arrilia Neilla asked, “And what exactly is this marvelous plan that you seem to have put into place without anyone’s agreement?”

“I will be appointing Jenevra as Imperial Protector.”

Silence echoed deafeningly in the chamber.

Then pandemonium broke out; everyone talking shouting, arguing at once.

Phillip sat down in his chair at the head of the table and waited for quiet.

Chancellor Menzetti also sat silently, hands quietly folded in his lap; applauding Phillip’s maturity that he didn’t try to shout over his council. He was also mentally assessing the plan for Jenevra becoming Imperial Protector. Noticing Phillip’s eyes narrow at the continuing clamor in the room, Menzetti rose to his feet. “I think it’s a wonderful idea, Your Highness,” he announced loudly.

Phillip managed to keep his incredulity under control, earning himself a few more points in the Chancellor’s eyes. “Thank you, Chancellor. I appreciate your support.”

The rest of the council had now managed to control themselves and were sitting in their places in various stages of shock.

“Yes, it’s exactly what we need, Highness,” Menzetti repeated. “Bringing back a position that was removed because of its propensity towards treason, and giving it to the most headstrong member of the Imperial family. Brilliant if I may say so.”

Rubbing his hand over his face, Rafael Massili scratched at his beard. “Have I missed something here?” he asked, baffled by Menzetti’s agreement. “Isn’t this a recipe for disaster?” Heads nodded agreement around the table.

Chancellor Menzetti waved the objections away. “No, no, no. It’s amazingly clever. Clever enough to make me wish I’d thought of it years ago.” An expression that was as close to a smile as he ever got crossed his face. “Correct me if I’m wrong at any point, Highness, but I believe your thinking is running something like this. Firstly, no-one will believe that this will be anything other than a ceremonial position, so no-one will feel threatened by it. Secondly, you can create a bodyguard unit that serves two purposes. One, to actually protect you and two, to keep her Highness occupied. Thirdly,” he checked them off on his fingers. “You keep Her Highness closely by your side so that she can’t be anywhere else—disturbing our tranquility—until she’s married. Brilliant!”

Phillip was a little dazed at how well, and how quickly, Menzetti had seen the plan, but rallied quickly. “Exactly, Menzetti. So, mother, gentlemen, can we confirm this appointment? I realize it’s a little more rushed than we usually like to do things, but she is already here, and she really does seem ready to take on some responsibility.” Ignoring the rude snort from Rafael Massili, Phillip asked for a vote.