“I am not a diplomat either,” Dater said. It struck Emily suddenly, for all their disagreements, Dater and Althorn had a great deal in common. “However, I must point out that monarchs do not bargain.”
“Merchants do,” Althorn pointed out. “We have considerable respect for you as a person” - he studiously avoiding addressing Dater by title - “but we expect you to recognize that the world has changed. You are no longer the unquestioned master of the kingdom and your aristocrats no longer have unquestioned authority over their serfs. We have proven that your power can be broken. Right now, half your kingdom is in effective rebellion. The serfs have fled the land, have taken the land, or are plotting to take the land. And you cannot regain your power.”
Dater smiled. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” There was no doubt in Althorn’s voice. “We will devastate the country from end to end before we let you regain your power. Your victory will turn to ashes in your mouth.”
“Indeed.” Dater studied Althorn thoughtfully. “You asked for this meeting. I assume you have a proposal.”
“Yes,” Althorn said. “It is not perfect, but... it is one we can accept.”
Emily sighed, inwardly, as Althorn started to outline the proposals she’d heard after the first unsuccessful meeting: The monarchy to surrender most of its power, the aristocracy to surrender its cherished rights, the assembly to hold power as it developed the rule of law... she knew, all too well, it was never going to be accepted. Dater might choose to play the role of a constitutional monarch, but his aristocrats would never agree. They’d lose everything, for what? She didn’t need to look at Dater to know he was angry. He’d taken a significant risk by agreeing to the meeting and the rebels had thrown it back in his face.
“And that’s what you want,” Dater said, when Althorn had finished. “Would you like the crown jewels as well? Or can I keep them?”
“They belong to the kingdom,” Althorn said. “They’re not yours.”
Dater tapped the table. “There is no point in trying to discuss the issue,” he said. “What you are demanding is nothing less than my unconditional surrender. You want me to give up everything, in exchange for what? Why do you believe anyone would agree to this?”
“There comes a time when one must recognize reality,” Althorn pointed out. “And reality, here, is that you are being asked to surrender something you’ve already lost.”
“The lands you want me - us - to surrender are ours,” Dater said. “I was unaware that stealing something made the thief its legitimate owner.”
Althorn looked back at him. “By what right do you own the Royal Forest? By what right do you own the Crown Lands? By what right do your aristocrats own their estates?”
“They have been legally ours for generations,” Dater snapped. “And that has been recognized in courts of law right across the Allied Lands.”
“But our people work the lands,” Althorn said. “You refuse to even let us leave.”
“You are no serf,” Dater countered.
“But there are many serfs amongst us,” Althorn replied. “Your aristocrats treated them as slaves. They were bound to the land, unable to leave without permission. Those who fled to the cities were hunted down. By what right did you treat them as slaves? As animals?”
His voice rose. “You claim to be superior, yet there’s no real difference between you and us, save for an accident of birth,” he said. “We matter. We will no longer put up with being treated like slaves. And we will not let you get your hands around our throats again.”
Emily shivered. She understood his logic. She agreed with it. And yet, she feared where it would go. The aristocracy had crushed all reformist movements until they’d been replaced with movements that wanted the aristocracy wiped out, root and branch. They were too angry, too full of hurt and bitterness and helpless rage, to draw any distinction between good and bad aristocrats. They just wanted them gone. And it would be very easy for someone to light a match and start a fire that would burn down the entire kingdom.
“Let me put forward a counter-proposal,” Dater said. “You will stand down. You will allow us to retake the cities and estates without opposition. In exchange, we will pardon you for the rebellion and start making slow and steady reforms. It will not happen immediately, but it will happen. You have my word.”
Althorn laughed, humorlessly. “You give your word very freely.”
“I am a monarch,” Dater said, primly. “My word is my bond.”
“We’ve had promises before,” Althorn said. “And many of them have been broken. Why should we trust your promises?”
He leaned forward. “And even if we trusted you, why would we trust your aristos?”
Good point, Emily thought. Dater couldn’t keep his supporters in line. They’ll crush the serf uprisings as quickly as possible, whatever happens in the cities.
She shook her head. Althorn couldn’t convince his followers to surrender and place their lives in aristocratic hands. The former serfs would fight to keep their new lands, all too aware that defeat meant death. Althorn had power, but not that much. She felt a flicker of sympathy. He had to steer a course between hardliners like Jair and moderates like Aiden... she wondered, suddenly, who was really in control. Did Althorn even know the moderates had tried to meet with her? He certainly hadn’t mentioned it.
“I will lead you,” Dater said. “I will command your armies and defend your rights.”
Althorn barked a laugh. “The way your father defended our rights?”
“You killed my father,” Dater said. The geniality was gone. “I am prepared to overlook, but not to forget.”
“I came here because I believed you would meet us halfway,” Althorn said. “And instead, you demanded complete surrender.”
“I will keep
