One thing could not be denied. The new garden was truly beautiful. In a small, intricate pavilion placed in between rock formations, willow trees, bamboo forests and artificial square ponds, servants had placed a table with two chairs and two corresponding cups. Prince Corco took a seat while the men who had been tasked to guide Corco to his room observed from a distance. Apart from them, Fadelio looked at the spectacle between brothers with a frown.
"This is nice," Corco said as he looked behind.
"Indeed. The aesthetics of Chutwa are truly refined." For the first time since their reunion, Amautu’s smile seemed genuine as he looked out over the garden.
"No, I meant the chairs," Corco replied. "It’s so weird how the eastern lords insist on those terrible lounge chairs, especially during dinner time. That can’t be good for your digestion. I guarantee you that half of those guys have terrible heart burn. So I really can’t-"
"huhumm!"
When Corco geared up for one of his rants, he was interrupted by Fadelio’s throat clear and came back to his senses.
"Anyways. The garden is pretty nice too, I guess."
With a beaming smile, Amautu jumped on the conversation.
"Thank you brother. I designed it myself. Over the past six years, I have studied the ways of the Chutwa people with great devotion. In Chutwa garden architecture, every tree, every statue, every blade of grass has meaning, but only put together do they form a coherent whole. It is the relationship between the things and the harmony formed out of that relationship that reveals the beauty of the world and points to the Truth. Unfortunately, I am still a simple beginner in the deep western arts. I have much to learn."
In deep deference, the second prince of Medala bowed his head to the plants around him.
"So you think we should get closer to the Chutwa then? You seem awefully impressed by them."
"The great Chutwa Empire is the largest, most powerful, most advanced civilization on Earth! No one can possibly compare with their might, knowledge and sophistication! Why should we not learn from them and attempt to become more alike? Anything else would be foolish! The great teachers have said: ’Only when states are well governed is there peace in the world.’"
After his initial excitement, Amautu paused, aware of the meaning behind his own words. Over the table, his view skewered Corco as the younger brother continued in a deep voice.
"I know why you have come back brother, but this matter is too important for pride. I am the only one among us three who has been to the west, the only one who has been educated to become a good emperor for our people. Believe me, I will lead the empire into a new era of peace and prosperity. If you truly care for the people of Yakuallpa, you shall rescind your claim posthaste and support my ascension."
While Prince Amautu held his speech in a confident voice, Corco shook the bottle in his hand in front of Amautu’s righteous face.
"What about this then? Seems to me like you’re not only choosing the west, but the east as well."
"A necessary evil," Amautu sneered. "Those barbarians are just convenient as tools, that’s all. They will help us develop our trade routes to the great Chutwa Empire. Once firmly entwined with their wisdom, our people will see the superiority of the Scholastic Way and improve their own lives to match."
While Amautu dreamed of the distant future, Corco filled the bottom of both cups with the amber liquid and handed one drink to his brother.
"So what do you think about this great invention from the east then? Salute."
In concord for the first time since being reunited, both brothers downed their drinks. Even then, they each kept an eye on the other the whole time. While Corco refilled the cups, Amautu tried his hardest to repress a coughing fit. Feeling angry and humiliated, he blamed the liquor on his reaction.
"It is a brutish drink fit only for barbarians. I would rather have a refined cup of Chutwa tea. This abomination will do nothing but poison the body and the spirit."
"Yeah, well, this is the strong one anyways, I don’t think we should drink this stuff undiluted anyways."
"How would you know?" Amautu asked with a raised brow.
"Says so on the front. There’s a paper label glued on." Corco tipped his finger on the front of the green bottle. "Anyways, if you were to drink the good version of this, which I have done, you would think differently. And a lot of nobles I’ve met on my way here are inclined to agree. Once this drink spreads among the estates, the Arcavian culture will have already influenced ours, whether you want it or not. When trade is open, ideas will flow freely. That has always been true."
"When every man is properly schooled to be a gentleman of outstanding moral conduct, they will themselves lay off these vulgar habits."
Although he could have been shocked, Corco was bemused at his brother’s outlandish idea instead.
"Do you really wanna take away the wine from our people? That doesn’t sound like a recipe for peace, it sounds like you’re trying to provoke another civil war. Only this time it won’t be north against south or land against coast, it will be everyone against you."
"That’s why the country needs a wise ruler! To properly educate the nobles and prevent such a war!" Amautu proclaimed as he jumped up from his chair. Again he looked away from his brother, into the distance. Confused, Corco followed Amautu’s gaze, but he couldn’t tell if his brother was looking at the bamboo or the window behind it. At this rate he would have to calm his little bro down before he started seeing things.
"Less getting upset, more getting drunk."
Despite the idiocy of drinking a 60 percent brandy undiluted, Corco clinked cups with his brother again, which the younger unwillingly lifted to his lips for a sip. Corco however emptied his quickly, which gave him some space to lay out his point of view as the younger brother still fought the beverage.
"You know, I spent a lot of time with those people you call vulgar barbarians. They are not perfect. They have many ideas and practices I would vehemently object to. But they’re not useless. There is a lot to learn there. Arcavia has accumulated much knowledge completely unknown to our people. Why can’t we make use of that as well?"
Rather than answer, Amautu frowned and sipped more of his drink. Still, Corco wouldn’t give up trying to convince his brother.
"I went to the east and you went to the west, countries and cultures completely different from our own. When you ask which of the two is better, then I can only say that no matter who and no matter where, no one ever has all the answers. I think that’s the first thing both of us should recognize," Corco understood in a rare moment of self reflection.
"Brother, you would not be so unsure if you had studied the great scriptures under my teacher Ichtaka. You will see, I will prove that the Great Way will lead to eternal peace!"
Corco let out a sigh as he re-corked the bottle with a slap. It seemed his brother had been infected by ideology. In a sense, Corco considered ideological conviction more dangerous than simple greed or ambition. Ideological thinkers were never right and never changed things for the better. That was his own ideological conviction, at the very least. In any case, it seemed like any amicable resolution with his brother would be difficult.
"Well, I’ll look forward to it. Though..:"
Corco looked up at the already darkening sky. By now the shadows of dark clouds had covered the garden square in its entirety, and only a few islands of dim yellow light were left to protect them. A distant rumbling told of the coming storm.
"...one person can’t do much. The princes of the great Medala Empire wish for a leisurely chat in the garden, but it looks like the Heavens have different plans. We should break this up before the divine punishment soaks the great princes."
"Even the heavens will have to respect the wisdom of man! I will be the one to show that reason will always triumph over force!" Amautu wobbled as he stood up to shout a defiant declaration, though who exactly he was defying was unclear.
"Of course you will. Good night brother."
"Then this prince will excuse himself."
After his stiff, trained goodbye, Amautu swaggered away with an unsteady gait, while one of the servants ran after him to make sure he wouldn’t trip and create a morbid new feature in one of the pretty, decorative ponds.
Meanwhile, Corco looked towards his attendant and the prime minister’s henchmen.
"Let’s go. Don’t you guys still have a job to do?"
__________________________
Yet another guard patrol walked past them. This had been the third and there were further warriors stationed around almost any corner as well as down in the courtyards, as Corco could observe from the open walkways. It seemed like the fight for succession had made everyone nervous.
As they were led up some more stairs, Fadelio and Corco spoke in Bornish so no one would overhear.
"Did that man really just gift our own brandy to you? The nerve of some people, to sell it as ’wine from his company’," Fadelio complained with a scowl.
"Well, at least it wasn’t poisoned. If I managed to discern nothing else during the sit-in with my brother, at least that one I can be sure of," Corco replied without worry.
"So, what do we think of Prince Amautu?"
"He thinks he should take responsibility for the country and he has a plan he fully believes in. If what he said was largely true then at least his goals are laudable."
"But..."
"Even if we have the same goal, he’ll never let me set the agenda. There is no way he will back down on that. And considering what those Chutwa scholars believe in, what I know of it, he might be extremely dangerous. Did you hear the fervor in his voice once he loosened up a bit? We should be careful about him and take a good look at his people."
"Got it."
While master and servant had made plans, Chaupic’s henchmen had halted in front of a sliding door.
"This will be the accommodations for prince Corco’s warrior attendant," henchman number one said with a false smile plastered on his face.
"Right. So mine are next door?" Corco replied.
Henchman number two made a vague gesture down the hall.
"They are not far, Prince. It will only be a little while longer."
"So not even within sight? You sure about that?" Corco asked the henchman duo with narrowed eyes. Both immediately went down on their knees.
"This servant made a mistake! Servant asks prince to show magnanimity!"
"This servant simply followed orders. Please do not make matters impossible for this lowly one."
Yes. Corco really, really disliked the sniveling court etiquette. However, he didn’t dislike it as much as his attendant did.
"What did you say, you snivelling worms!?" Enraged, the giant warrior rushed towards henchman number two and dragged him to his feet by the scruff of his neck. "You dare deny the crown prince even one guard as protection!? I may as well cut you down right here!"
With movements far quicker than his plump stature would suggest, Corco held onto his servants arm before it could draw the axe at Fadelio’s waist.
"It’s fine." Even though the prince had put all the conviction and gravitas of a future emperor into his words, Fadelio only answered with a stare of disbelief. Corco would have to do better than this, so he continued once more in Bornish.
"Look, they really are just following orders, so getting angry at them helps no one. I said it before, but no one will try to harm me tonight. Not even Spuria would be that stupid."
"Laqhis-"
"Don’t Laqhis me! This is what they want. If we create a scene, the palace brood can claim that we are uncivilized, unworthy of the throne. Unless we follow along, we’ll play right into their hands. Now let them go. That’s an order!"
Although he still looked unwilling, Fadelio didn’t say another word as he let down Chaupic’s henchman to collapsse into a heap of sadness, before he returned to his place half a step behind his master.
"Okay, I forgive you," Corco said towards the two terrified minions. "Now get up and show me my room. Fadelio. Give me my backpack."
Still without a word, Fadelio handed over one of the two packets he had been carrying and then saw off his master. Of course Corco understood that Fadelio was only worried for his safety, but they couldn’t afford any mistakes. Not on his first day back. He would just have to apologize to his friend later.
After the prince had been led around for a bit, they arrived at a door guarded by two Sipiy warriors, elites of the royal family. They were easily recognizable from the long, red feather plume flowing from their ornate helmets and down their backs. Without a word, he entered the sliding door and took a quick look around his accommodations. It was somewhat small for a prince, but clean and luxuriously decorated, with patterned carpets covering the floor and two of the walls, while the far wall was broken up by a large paper window. The furniture also included a table with chairs, a wardrobe, a shelf with bamboo rolls and incense for meditation, a small nightstand and a spacious bed for rest. Corco deemed it a better fit for sleeping than the back of the donkey cart he had frequented for the last few nights. Thus satisfied, he turned around and handed a few coins to the servants who were already waiting for their customary bribe outside the door.
"I want my suit dry cleaned by Monday. And no disturbances."
And thus the crown prince rammed the door shut in the face of the baffled and confused henchmen.
__________________________
As the night had progressed, the drizzle of the rain had turned into an all out storm that shrouded the entire castle in darkness. The wind whipped curtains of rain against the walls of the castle while the atmosphere shook to the repeated boom of thunder and lightning. In the man’s line of work, this was considered ideal weather. Dressed in a spacious black robe and with a dim oil lamp in one hand and a blackened short-sword with a triangular blade in the other, he sneaked down the empty hallways, until he arrived in front of the unguarded room. He knew that the nominal guards had just left on an emergency call and would not be back for a while. After he had put the lamp on the ground, he stood there motionless, until a gust of wind appeared, to swallow all noise furing his work.
Almost without a sound, the door slid open, as a cone of light got wider and wider to illuminate the room.
As the robed figure lifted the sword, the illumination encroached on the bed where the intruder’s target would be sleeping.
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