Arguna, the silver city. The name was as fitting as it was obvious, as it had been built within the Argu basin and along the Argu river. The city also offered close watch and direct control over the numerous, abundant mines in the area, none more important than the precious silver ore. Though the region had been mined for centuries, the basin showed no signs of exhaustion. That wealth was what had made Arguna the center of Medala’s power and House Pluritac the most powerful house of the Twin Isles.
Impatient for his arrival, Corco lifted the curtains of his uncle’s palanquin, now painted with the triquetra of his own house. First he saw the handful of warriors he had brought for protection. Back at the traditionalist camp, the prince had left Dedrick behind to look after the rest of his men and to make sure the uncultured mercenary wouldn’t create trouble at the court.
For now, Primus would also stay with his father as well. Due to the ban of troops within Arguna, even the Lords’ own attendants were limited to two bearers for the palanquin and an additional four for security and advice. In truth, the flimsy safety net made Corco uneasy. Really, he should have been used to it. Since he had spent the last few years on Arcavia with a knife under his pillow, he had plenty of experience with assassinations. However, his knowledge of how dirty people could play to reach their goals only made things worse. It didn’t help that at this moment, they were moving into Medala’s heart of political intrigue. After they had passed through the enormous inner city walls, they entered the city’s inner ring, the spacious noble’s quarters.
One step through the enormous stone walls revealed a world far removed from the outside. While the rest of the city with all of it’s hustle was a loud, chaotic mess, within the walls one would find an almost eerie calm and cleanliness, as if the apocalypse had happened right after spring cleaning. While the houses outside the walls were built at least partially from stone, many constructions within the city walls were made from wood alone, not only reflecting the influence Chutwa culture had gained among Medala’s nobility. Rather, the need to keep the foundries of the city running also meant that any forests within the vicinity had been destroyed long ago. As such, the ability to build a house from wood had become a sign of wealth.
As if that hadn’t been enough for the vain lords, the outer walls of the various mansions were lavishly decorated with carvings, paintings and even silver plating. With how simple and rustic everything away from the main roads looked, one had to look very hard to justify the name ’silver city’ outside the walls. In here however, the abundance of decadence on show explained the eagerness of the foreign powers who tried to control his brothers. Many of the estates spent a good portion of their yearly income only on the literal and figurative facade, of their Arguna mansions, even at the expense of their actual family estate back home, just to show their neighbors that they themselves mattered.
The only indication that this place was, in fact, not some otherworldly realm of purity and splendor was the giant pillar of smoke in the west, where inside the walls, the weapons and armors of the imperial forces would be fashioned. However, the smoke remained the only indication of their existence as the view on the buildings themselves was blocked by the royal complex, an enormous palace with countless structures, towering above the city in all of its opressive might. And the most remarkable ones among its buildings were the two imposing structures which threw long shadows over the entire inner city as they were backed by the evening sun peeking out from beneath the low-hanging clouds.
First was the monumental, rounded ziggurat which was the only pure stone structure of the complex and much older than even the city itself, the Moonlight Ziggurat. Not only was the pyramid ancient, it had been the center of the empire’s political and religious power ever since the founding days. It housed the royal temple, royal tomb, the Ancestral Hall and of course, the grand court, where Corco’s father had made all important decisions of the empire up until his death.
The party’s goal, however wasn’t the Moonlight Ziggurat, it was the other massive building. A gigantic fortress built from black stone and bright red wood, positioned next to the Argu River, uninviting and imposing from the outside. Corco however remembered the inside as pleasant and luxurious. No wonder, since the structure was the chosen home of the imperial family, his nominal home.
There, Corco would find his accommodations for the night, but first they would have to make it past the palace gates. Considering their track record so far, he was surprised no underlings had tried to stop them at the inner city wall, so he just hoped their luck would last as his men, taken aback by the marvelous sights on their path, made their way up Yaku Hill, the root of the world.
As they neared the giant double gate, the sound of gongs filled the air. The startled carriers stopped still and almost dropped the palanquin with Corco inside. "It’s fine", the prince calmed them with a smooth voice, "It’s just a greeting. Keep going."
The gongs would always make the return of an imperial family member. In truth, Corco was surprised by the warm reception. Nonetheless content with the treatment, he stepped out of the palanquin to make the final part of his journey on foot.
With Corco still several steps away from the base of the entrance, the giant doors began to swing outward. By the time the small group had reached the top of the stairs, the palace gate was opened wide enough for an army to enter, and their welcoming committee had appeared in its middle. The sight was underwhelming.
"Prince Corco, welcome back." Chaupic di Pluritac, prime minister of Medala for forty years, looked exactly how Corco remembered him. The same small stature, the same sharp facial features and the same stiff smile, trained to immovability by a lifetime of political intrigue.
"Prince Corcopaca Titu Primu Pluritac has returned." Since Chaupic hadn’t called Corco crown prince or even used a proper greeting, Corco decided to hit back in the most subtle way he could muster. The inclusion of his childhood name ’Primu’ made the line of succession clear. Whether the old minister liked it or not, Corco was the eldest prince. While Chaupic was still busy playing statue, Corco taunted the size of his ’welcome’.
"So where is everybody? Did bedtime come early? Tough day today?"
"Prince Corco jests," the minister said, his smile unchanged. "Empress Mother Ichilia is in the harem. At this late hour, she cannot exit unless she wishes to appear unseemly. Meanwhile, Prince Pachacutec has accompanied Elder Caelestis on a visit to Lord Ichilia’s lands. They aim to procure food for the warriors camped outside the walls. Prince Amautu, on the other hand, could not be found on such short notice and must have gone to bed by now. It is unfortunate, but Prince Corco’s runner sent us the message belatedly. As such, we could not prepare an adequate greeting. This servant apologizes from the bottom of his heart."
As he did his best to ignore the slimy act of the old politician, Corco looked at his grand ’welcome’ again. One old minister and a handful of servants stood to greet the dead emperor’s eldest son. Since they were barely bothering to keep up a facade of minimum politeness, Corco wouldn’t be bothered with etiquette either.
"Whatever. Is there any other steps or is this it, oldtimer?"
"This old man wonders if prince would need to visit his father," the old man smiled.
"Please kindly fuck off," Corco smiled right back. "I just came home, I’m not properly prepared and I’m dirty. What kind of trap are you trying to lead me into exactly?"
Although he remained calm on the outside, Corco was fuming at the old man’s brazen ploy. Worshipping his dead father now would have been a massive breach in form, which would have looked terrible in front of the other lords. However, even after his plan had been found out, the culprit remained calm. His face didn’t even flinch as he responded.
"Deepest apologies, Prince Corco. This servant is old and confused."
Frustrated, a tired Corco stared Chaupic down for a while, before he gave up and looked over to the red castle instead. Not even the stone and wood could be any less responsive than this old bastard.
"I’m not dealing with this bullshit today," he said. "I’ve been traveling for months to get here. So we’ll just pretend we had a good talk. Then we came to the conclusion that we should go towards the castle and find a bed for me. How’s that sound?"
He hadn’t even entered, but Corco already remembered why he had never liked the palace.
"As prince wishes. Though," Chaupic took a look behind the prince, "this servant is inconsolable, but the rules of the palace do not allow the foreigners to enter."
"They’re my warriors and my guards. You want me to be without protection?" Corco asked wide-eyed. Wasn’t this too shameless, even for the imperial family?
"Prince misunderstands." Chaupic waved his bony hand around in defense. "This old servant is only concerned with Prince’s reputation. Since they have not yet been officially confirmed as-"
"Fine, whatever. Go make room for them outside somewhere."
While the minister turned and ordered two of his servants around, Corco had a premonition. To avoid any more nasty business, he might as well make the roles clear right away.
"I’ll have to warn you, though. You best make sure my men are taken care of. If anything happens to them it will be on you."
"I understa-"
"No, you don’t understand," Corco growled, his stance lowered like a wild beast. "If my men end up injured or dead, I’ll split you in half from your head to your sack. At that point, I won’t give a damn just how it would affect my reputation."
"I understand, Prince."
As the old man kept up his smile through all the threats, Corco did his best to not punch his teeth in. He decided it was best to not look at the man and reduce contact in the future to a minimum. Instead, the prince looked up at the darkening sky. More and more, it seemed like a storm was brewing in the swirl of clouds.
After most of the prince’s entourage had been taken care of, Prime Minister Chaupic led Corco and Fadelio, the only warrior they couldn’t bar from entry, into Pluritac castle. They had just passed the entrance guards and were on their way up a flight of stairs to the sleeping quarters, when finally, for the first time in what seemed to have been an eternity, something went Corco’s way.
By an absolute stroke of luck, they met a group of two, evidently on their way outside. Though the man who lead the way was much older than Corco remembered and sported a short beard, he was still unmistakably, unbelievably, hilariously, the second prince of the Medala Empire: The supposedly sleeping Prince Amautu Titu Secundu Pluritac.
There they stood, the first prince who had returned from overseas and the second prince who was about to go to bed. For a while they stared at each other as the widening grin on Corco’s face threatened to split his head in two.
Prime Minister Chaupic’s face was still frozen solid in its eternal smile. Meanwhile, Prince Amautu’s eyes turned large as saucers as the implications of the meeting began to dawn on him. Corco knew that Amautu hadn’t simply avoided his brother’s return ceremony out of rudeness. It was common practice during meetings for the younger brother to politely greet the older brother first, something the second prince would be unwilling to do after he had established himself as a leading competitor in the throne’s succession.
"Let’s go."
Once he had regained his presence of mind, Amautu looked away, addressed his guest and then moved towards the exit as if nothing had happened.
"Oh no you don’t!"
Corco realized what his brother was trying to do and rushed towards the exit in great strides. He arrived there first to block the way in a wide stance. Finally, something had gone his way and he would not let his brother’s shamelessness get in the way of his own satisfaction! Amautu looked frustrated as Corco crossed his arms and raised his head to stare down at his little brother in provocation. After a tense moment of silence, Amautu could no longer ignore the truth before him and gave in.
"Second prince greets elder brother." Although his words were the minimum required for a proper greeting, he did not lower his head to match it.
"Crown Prince Corco greets his little brother", Corco grinned back.
"This prince is besides himself with joy that brother would have returned safely. The estate had heard horrible reports of brother’s death."
Still stiff, Amautu shuffled left and right, in search of an elegant angle he could use to squeeze past his brother. This would be where Corco’s years of combat training came into full effect.
"Yeah, I heard those as well," he replied while he showed off his footwork to cut of his brother’s escape. "I hope that the dead prince didn’t suffer or anything."
"This prince was on his way outside to welcome elder brother back, but was unfortunately late one step. It is fortunate to have met elder brother here," Amautu said with fake elation. By now he had accepted his lot and given up on his escape.
"...and who is your friend?"
Corco asked with a suspicious look at the tall, fair-skinned man with the light brown hair and exotic clothing.
"Please let me introduce, brother. This is Olbit Kallas, dignitary of the land of Borna. Lord Kallas, this is the eldest royal prince Corco Pluritac."
With an enthusiasm not fit for the occasion, the tall man went forward and shook the prince’s hand. After, he used his very limited knowledge of high Yakua language to communicate.
"I am glad to meet you Prince Corco! I am Olbit! I hope our countries can work together well in trade."
Without warning, the dignitary grabbed to his side, into a deep pouch he had slung around his shoulder. Quiet steps behind him told Corco that Fadelio had closed the distance, ready to cut the fool down should he attempt an assassination. However, the man remained unaware of his near death as he retrieved a small bottle.
"Please, take this quality wine from my company as a sign of friendship!"
Without a care, Corco casually took the bottle and turned to the prime minister.
"So foreigners are not allowed into the royal complex, was it?" he asked with a flat tone as he raised an eyebrow.
"Lord Kallas is a dignitary of a friendly kingdom."
"So you’re saying that being a foreign dignitary makes him not a foreigner somehow?" Somehow, the politician’s answer was shameless enough to rase Corco’s other brow.
"This old man misspoke. Only foreigners of unverified origin are not allowed inside. Please excuse this servant’s misstep, young prince."
Although the old man tried to get out of his predicament by highlighting his age again, Corco was having none of it.
"Well, if you made such a simple mistake, maybe your age is getting to you? You should seriously consider retirement, old man."
For the first time, minister Chaupic’s eyebrows twitched into a frown, but only for a moment before they smoothed out again.
"This old man still has much to offer for the empire. If need be, even this old body shall be sacrificed."
"Okay, that’s nice. So how about you help escort your ’dignitary’ outside? You won’t allow him to stay here overnight, will you?" Corco stepped aside to free up the exit.
"Of course, prince," the old man answered, before he turned to the merchant. "Please follow me, Lord Kallas."
His hand forced by the prince’s words, the old man had no choice but to lead the supposed dignitary called Olbit out of the room and leave the guidance of Corco and his attendant to his lower-ranked servants.
Corco was ecstatic. For once, things had totally gone the way he wanted! At this point, he didn’t even mind his brother’s earlier rudeness.
"Please excuse me, elder brother," Amautu mumbled as he turned to leave up the stairs.
"Not so fast, little bro!" Corco shouted, and held his brother back at his arm.
"Bro?" Confused, Amautu was dragged back. Now free from the watchful eye of the old man, Corco forgot the last bit of his etiquette and put his arm around his brother’s shoulder.
"I’ve finally come home after so long, so I think it’s time for a family reunion! I’m sure you have tons of questions for your elder brother burning a hole into your proverbial stomach... and hey look, I even brought some fancy drink from overseas just for you!"
Corco shook the bottle he had just been handed by Lord Kallas.
With a frown, Amautu shook off Corco’s hand and took a small step to the side. For a second, he seemed conflicted, before he faked a smile.
"Of course, brother. We should appreciate the new gardens before night time. Brother will surely enjoy them."
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