171 Exiles (1/2)
Through the morning mist, a single ship sailed across the calm waves that were so typical of the Narrow Sea. Though a ship it was, and on the sea it sailed, it was in no state to be called seaworthy. Decrepit, infested with fungus above and barnacles below water, old Namu's barge had seen better days. Way back when, many decades ago, the ship had been brand new, handed over to the then-young Namu to fulfill his duties. And dutifully he fulfilled them today as well, as always. Yet this time, something was different from before. For the first time in years, he had brought a visitor to the lonely island.
When the ship ran aground the sands of the shallow beach, the prince's men already stood ready to take his wares, as usual. Though not only supplies from the mainland touched the shores of the lonely island. No, old Namu's guest did as well. With a short nod at the ferryman, the stranger jumped down the barge and into the ankle-deep water. Of course, the locals were unhappy to see the stranger wade towards them and invade their lands.
”Halt! Even as the delivery boy, no one is allowed on this island, on the emperor's orders! Yet a stranger dare land as If he owned the lands of Imperial Prince Eclestius? You dare defy the emperor?”
”The emperor is dead,” the stranger said and showed a shiny silver trinket from within his long sleeve. As they saw the symbol, the servants halted in their steps. Only a woman from the back stepped ahead to remain an obstacle.
”Even so, no stranger is allowed to come here, no matter what banner they bear.” Tall for a woman, she appeared quite young, no older than twenty-five. Although she was pregnant, maybe in her last trimester, her stance was as fierce as her eyes, ready to fight off the invader.
”Then what about him?” With a casual flick of his hand, the stranger pointed at old Namu. While the robed man had been stuck here, the old ferrier had left his ship to help unload the cargo, while he chatted with the locals.
”Old Urmo is no stranger. He is a dear friend. For as long as we can remember, he brings us not only food and drink and clothing and firewood, but also precious tales from lands far away, once every twenty days. Should we not extend a hand of hospitality to an old friend?”
”Well, I'm no stranger either, not really. We're family after all.” Corco lifted the hood of his robe to reveal his face. ”You must be my cousin, huh? Sorry, but I don't know your name, I'm not well-informed about the situation on the lost islands. Still, I really need to meet with uncle Eclestius. Tell him King Corco has come to make an offer. I'm sure he can make an exception and meet me this once.”
Once he mentioned his name, his cousin looked none the happier, but still sent out a servant. They did not talk while they waited, Corco covered in suspicious stares.
A while later the servant returned to bring the local ruler's answer. Guided by the pregnant lady of the house, Corco was led through the yards. Fancy, but a bit out of fashion, they overlooked the entire lordship of Prince Eclestius. There was great beauty in the craggy cliffs and reefs in the distance, as there was within the sway of the long grass around the estate. Though the lordship was beautiful, it was a tiny, empty realm, bereft of people, save for the ones in this very mansion. Though the king tried to make conversation, he could feel that the young lady had nothing but suspicion to offer, so he let her be until they reached the goal of their journey.
Soon the lady had left Corco seated across from a man who looked no older than himself, with short hair and a long beard. Though he was his family, he looked more like Amautu than himself.
”Hello, uncle Eclestius,” the nephew said with a smile and a tiny bow.
”This lord greets King Corcopaca Titu Pluritac and welcomes him into his home.” Though the speech was formal and distant, Corco didn't care much. He hadn't come here to reconnect. Thus he sat down across from the prince without another word of greeting.
”You're wearing your hair short,” Corco noted instead.
”This prince has never been a warrior, so he will not wear their sigils. There are no axes on the lost islands either. Not even for cutting wood.” Of course Corco had known about the axes. A complete absence of any weapons was one of many paranoid rules the emperors of Medala had instated over the years to keep their kin from taking revenge.
”I don't think there's need to be so formal, is there? We're family, after all.” Corco spread his arms in an open gesture, but the prince remained unmoved, glued to his seat.
”Yet we have never met before today.”
”Of course we haven't. By the time I was born, you had already been exiled, and by the time I was old enough to visit, I had been exiled too.”
”Ah, what a cruel fate it is, this exile.” For the first time, Prince Eclestius looked out of the window with a wistful gaze, something more than hostility and suspicion.
”You've still got it better than the princes before you. Much better, I'd say.” In fact, Corco's father had been quite lenient with his brothers. There were only three possible fates for princes of Medala who didn't become emperors. First, for the ones who had openly fought for the position of emperor themselves or had an especially vengeful brother, they would be taken out. Though this was rarely done. Much more common was a fate of exile on one of the many small islands along the coast of Medala. Although there was always a chance the brothers would return with the help of some overambitious lords, the exiled had little incentive to rebel.
Even as almost landless princes, they retained their prince status, equivalent to a lord, and were still allowed to train in the ancient family techniques. By the time they turned seventy, like all lords, their exile would be lifted and they would be inducted into the Ancestral Hall, to become the power behind the throne. Not only would this guarantee their loyalty when they were still young enough to rule themselves, they would also bolster the numbers of the Pluritac family within the Hall to guarantee their influence.
Of course, any emperor also had the option to employ the other princes as generals or advisors, though that was rarely done.
”Yet he took none of us under his wing when he ascended,” Eclestius said.
”When my father ascended, you were ten, far too young to take up any sort of function within the court. Those brothers of yours were old enough, but tried their hardest to kill him. The emperor would have been an idiot to give them authority after that. In the end, he only stayed close to one member of his family, and it cost him his life.”
While Corco brooded over the betrayal of Caelestis, Eclestius remained quiet. The king wasn't sure what the prince thought about his own father, about the coward and weakling who still threatened to destroy their house, but he appeared uncomfortable, with a deep frown on his face.
”Do you hate my father?” Corco asked, willing to switch topics. Who would want others to talk poorly of their own father, no matter what they had done?
”By the time this prince was old enough to be aware of his surroundings, your father was already a great hero among the lords. Already he had distinguished himself on the political arena, and shortly after, he became a great general in his fight against the southerners. To be honest, we never had enough contact to foster emotions as strong as hate. Though after my exile, I did resent him, for a while.”
”And now?”
A sigh let Eclestius' brows smoothe.
”Upon this blasted rock, one has ample time to reflect. A quiet life is not so bad, even more so now, when the outside is plagued by constant troubles. When I see brothers tear each other apart, I am glad to be born too late to be involved in succession.”
”You're strangely well informed for someone who is supposed to be exiled.” Corco chuckled. The elderly ferryboy must have kept the islanders connected to the outside world, a small solace for those left behind by the world.