39 Electoral Campaign (1/2)
A feeling of absolute calm enveloped his entire being, like floating in the tranquil sea. Driven along the surface, the push and pull of gently rocking waves mimicked the breath of an enormous, gentle being; slowly rocking back and forth; all encompassing. And so he adjusted his own breath to the rhythm and lost himself in the waves.
When he opened his eyes again he saw fish swirl like leaves in a current. Awakened from his meditation at the Petrocilius manor's front yard pond, Corco looked around to get back his bearings. The World's Embrace, his ancient family cultivation method, was one of the few things in this world which defied his understanding, at least for the moment. Though he needed to solve one problem at a time. The most pressing of these problems being...
”Fadelio,” he called.
”Yes master.” While his lord had been meditating, the warrior had stood by his side, ready and alert.
”Looks like we'll have support from the eastern families. That's our first stone on the board.”
With a nod, Fadelio stretched out his arm and helped his master back on his feet.
”So what now? The same estates will be the first to stand in our way as soon as we try to reform and modernize.”
Agile on his feet, Corco turned a circle to get his blood pumping and began to move towards the mansion's exit. Morning had broken a while ago and with his routine done, the prince was ready to continue on in his journey, further into his homeland.
”No worries, we won't need their support forever. And we have to make sure to gain control of the empire first and foremost. Only then can we even consider meaningful reforms, to everyone's benefit. By then, even the old-fashioned houses like Petrocilius will thank us.”
Their baggage slung over his shoulder, Fadelio followed his lord out of the mansion, towards the waiting caravan.
”Maybe I'm slow again, but we let them take part in our business just now. With all the influence and wealth they will gain from the cooperation, won't we just strengthen an eventual enemy?”
”Those estates will seal their fate all on their own. They won't be the ones to profit from the business. At least not the most. That honor would go to their merchants, their craftsmen and their peasants. The high and mighty lords won't even notice. Like so many in the world, they're too busy looking to the sides or looking up. For hundreds of years, no one in this place has ever bothered to look down.”
With a frown, the prince stared over to the head of the caravan, where the young master Primus Petrocilius, representative of all the bad, old-fashioned habits of Medala, had taken a seat atop a donkey cart. With great enthusiasm, the youngster waved at the crown prince and his servant as soon as he spotted them.
”As for us?” When he turned towards his friend again, Corco's serious expression had turned into a wide grin. ”Now that we have official support from some of the estates and a runner to bring the message of my survival to the capital, we'll have a lot more time until we need to get there. We'll also need to drum up some more support to win our election. So let's go run a campaign.”
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”Crown Prince Corcopaca Titu Pluritac requests entry!”
”The master of the house has left for the capital. Your honorable selves can camp outside since it's getting dark.”
”Then we will be thankful for your hospitality.”
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”Please do not make things difficult for this servant! Without the master's approval, this servant could lose his head if he were to let Prince Corco inside.”
”...of course. We will seek shelter elsewhere.”
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”Dirty Impostor! You will not trick this noble son with your words! All of Medala knows of Prince Corcopaca's lowly death on foreign soil! No matter what tricks you intend to play, leave my lands at once or be prepared to face this young hero's axe!”
”Motherf...”
After their third night outdoors, it was safe to say that things weren't going too well.
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All throughout the morning, Estia had tended to the royal gardens. At last, her work was done. Hunched over to replace the old flowers with new ones for the coming season, her knees had almost given in before she could finish her work. At last, she looked up from the dirt on her freezing hands and over the garden's balustrade. From here, she could see all the way down onto Arguna, the silver city. All covered in snow, the buildings and roads of Medala's capital looked truly beautiful. However, she knew that it was all just a facade, a thin veil to cover the true face of the city. Soon, it would be spring, the melting snow an early sign of the coming new year. Once the white blanket was removed, the city would once again show its loud, dirty, ugly nature in all of its glory.
While she sat there and caught her breath, two figures entered the garden and played out an ugly scene of a different kind right behind her back.
”What do you mean 'no harm'?!” Even though Estia didn't turn to look at the intruders, the woman's scream was unmistakable. Empress Mother Spuria Ichilia had entered the scene. Stunned by the arrival of the most powerful woman in the empire, the servant girl made haste to get back onto her knees. With her legs buried in the wet, soft soil once more, she tried to make herself invisible as best as she could. After all, the empress mother was well known for her violent outbursts.
”I mean what I said. No son of House Pluritac will be harmed by his own family!” Despite her best efforts, Estia didn't recognize the second voice. All she could tell was that it belonged to a man. Estia was desperate for a stolen glance, but she knew that any more movements would risk her life. Thus, she tried to blend in with the flowers and just listened.
”Are you telling me that Corco, the little southerner bastard, can be considered a Pluritac?! Don't you want to see Pacha become emperor!? How much thought have we wasted to get that little beast out of the country? And now he's back!? I tell you right away: If the bastard dares enter this palace of mine, I'll slit his throat myself!”
”Enough!” In response to the enraged voice, Spuria's shrill rambling died down and quiet fell over the garden. A few breaths later, the unknown male continued: ”Pachacutec will be emperor. Nothing will change that. He still has the support from House Ichilia, does he not?”
”Of course.”
”Which means he also has the support of every estates in central Medala. After we arranged the deal with the foreign merchant, we also managed to win over anyone along the major trade routes between east and west. Not to mention: With his charm and heroic demeanor, Pacha has won over many more beyond material benefits. Strength counts a great deal among the nobility, especially in these times of upheaval.” Filled with pride, the voice continued. ”Pacha will be emperor. No one can change anything about that. But I won't have you hurt anyone from the imperial family, for your own sake alone. Touch the members of House Pluritac and I will be the first ally you lose.”
”... this is no place for a talk. We should meet again later. At the usual spot.” As Estia heard Spuria's answer, her heart jumped into her throat. She could feel the Empress Mother's eyes stare daggers into her back. However, after what felt like an eternity, she finally heard the relieving footsteps again. For now she would be safe, but it was time to leave. Any further work in the palace would have to be done by others from here on out.
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”Then I hope we have a great work together.” With somewhat awkward Yakua, the stout foreigner said his goodbyes. Against the common customs, Prince Amautu answered him with the kind of firm handshake which was common in Arcavia.