83 His Role End of Book 2 (1/2)
When Chaupic entered the mansion, he was greeted by a lively atmosphere. He had decided to come along late, when the revelry would be in full swing. This way, he wouldn't stand out too much. Despite his role in the alliance, he really didn't want others to associate him with the lord of the mansion. The prime minister already knew what it would do to his reputation, to his legacy. Although he was determined to keep a low profile, just as he entered the large hall, tonight's host stood by the entrance, ready to greet him.
”Minister Chaupic, welcome to House Villca!” the balding lord's droning voice resounded across the celebrations in his back as he put his arms around Chaupic's shoulder. The politician put down his umbrella and looked behind himself, back into the pouring rain, as he let himself get dragged inside by the enthusiastic master of the house. He didn't really have a choice in the matter.
”This servant is honored to be served as a guest.” Chaupic hid his discomfort at the close physical contact as much as his discomfort at being put into the center of attention. At least a look around revealed that this late into the evening, most men were too drunk to take notice of his entry.
Since the heavy rain outside had made any banquet in the open impossible, the large salon of the Villca mansion in Arguna's inner city had been transformed into a walking circus. Torches everywhere spread a golden light to further highlight the excess before him. Men were stumbling through the rows upon rows of tables, laden with all the culinary treasures the granaries could spare this late into winter. The men's lack of decorum or order made it impossible for Chaupic to tell the lords apart from the servants. The entire procession was one enormous mess. The sticky-sweet aroma that had laid itself all over the room made it even more obvious that they weren't drinking tea. Somewhere in the background, through all the drunken singers, boasters and fighters, he could hear a song and dance performance, but no one was conscious enough to appreciate the finer arts.
As Chaupic was further dragged along towards the back of the room, he found a young man who had passed out right in their path. He lay on the carpet and mumbled to himself, as his drool soiled the expensive cloth beneath him. With a smile, Villca stepped on the drunkard's back and then over the puddle which had originated from his cup. Uncomfortable as Chaupic was to repeat the lord's uncouth feat, Villca's powerful grip didn't leave him much of a choice.
Finally, they had passed the worst of the chaos and reached a table even more decadent than all the others, inlaid with gold and silver. Having passed the worst part of his journey, the prime minister took a deep breath before he looked over the ridiculous offerings in his front, which tested the limits of the table's stability. Apart from the grilled meats, rice and other traditional Yaku cuisine, he found strange fruits, baked products and... things he could not even identify. They were no doubt gifts brought from the strange lands of the two men who had sat at the table, almost hidden by the mountain of opulence.
”Ahaha, if it isn't Prime Minister Chaupic! Have a seat, have a drink!” The lanky merchant, rather than the fat one, stood to greet him first, while Villca finally showed mercy and let go of his arm. Chaupic knew that the pressure would leave a dark spot for days, or even weeks, but he wouldn't let his pain show. It would be rude, and it would ruin the mood. He couldn't afford either, not now.
”Lord Borgarson, please be aware that this servant was only prime minister to the previous emperor. There is no telling whether or not the ancestors will decide to send this old man into retirement,” he answered to Steen Borgarson, the Arcavian merchant. They were well acquainted already. After all, he and Spuria had planned the assassination of first prince Corco together with Kallas, who had offered his best man for the work. The failed attempt and disappearance of his right-hand man had put a strain on their relations, but the cooperation over the last few days had been more than enough to alleviate all of his resentment, as evidenced by the man's frank smile.
”Please, Prime Minister Chaupic. Even us outsiders are aware that sire is the only choice of prime minister, be it for the central kingdom of King Pacha or the city administration of Arguna,” While he had been talking with the lanky merchant, the fat one had labored out of his seat and joined in on their talk. He offered Chaupic a firm, wet handshake, and the politician once again tried his best to hide his disgust. The man's body was as unsavory as his temperament.
”This servant is happy to meet Lord Olbit Kallas, dignitary of Borna. It seems like Lord Kallas fooled us all with his manner of speech.”
Chaupic followed his co-conspirators to take a seat around the table. He remembered his handful of superficial meetings with Kallas before today. The merchant who cultivated close ties to Prince Amautu's faction had always seemed simple, honest and careless, with a terrible grasp of the Yaku language. It felt like he had no idea what he was doing almost all the time. Someone who would be easy to use and discard as needed. Obviously, the merchant was much more clever than anyone had given him credit for.
”Prime Minister should not be surprised by my actions. After all, when it comes to playing roles, none here can hold a candle to you, sire.”
Showing a shallow smile, Chaupic reached into his robes and retrieved the gift he had saved up, especially for today. ”On that note,” he said before the bulbous green bottle landed on the table with a heavy thud. The well-familiar label on the front told the men just what Chaupic had brought.
”The famous Borna Brandy!” Kallas said as he picked up the bottle with glee, ”where did sire receive it?”
”A gift from King Corco. As thanks for all the support received.”
His words prompted boisterous laughs from Borgarson and Villca, and a thin smile from Kallas. At this point, Chaupic was sure that the bornish merchant was the most dangerous man at the table.
”Too comical. The clever little crown prince, tricked just like this. How could he ever expect that Prime Minister Chaupic would work for ancestor Viribus this entire time?”
”In fact, King Corco was aware of this,” Chaupic corrected with a raised finger, ”However, he could not see our alliance, no matter how hard he looked.”
”In fairness, there was little he could have done once we chose to work together,” Villca added, ”The boy did well, all things considered, made things difficult for us. And that bastard Sonco too. That man was a master of deceit. Even when we took him down with the weapons from our eastern friends here, he still made trouble from beyond the grave. How can those lords be so blind to adhere to the words of a dead man?”
As he watched Kallas uncork the expensive liquor with a pop, Chaupic answered with a frown.
”Master Viribus is very unhappy about what happened in the last few days. Master's prestige has suffered greatly, all due to Lord Villca's inability to halt Prince Corco's steps. Master hopes that Lord Villca will be able to control the prince in the south and make sure he does not become too influential.”
Upon the provocation, blood began to boil under Villca's skin and up his face, but the gurgling of the poured alcohol stopped him before he could explode. The fat merchant had started to fill up all of their cups.
”No need to be upset. For now, all our goals have been achieved. Today, we celebrate. Any problems can be solved tomorrow.” He handed the cups over to the three men at the table and raised his own, high up towards the ceiling. ”Now drink! To the future!”
”To the future!” the other three replied in one voice, before they all took a deep gulp of the strong liquid. Chaupic could feel the mellow taste linger on his tongue, before it traveled down his throat and began to warm his core, chilled down from the rain and the unpleasant company around him.