A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1730 - 1730: The Pieces - Part 8

"Those are foolish words," the old merchant said. "You burned his land, killed his Generals, slaughtered his troops. He would not cede anything willingly to you."

"I did not say willingly," Queen Asabel said. Only now did she understand the significance of the way her father had handed her the crown. It was a gift that was difficult to see, but in the forum of such debate, it gave her a mighty platform to launch her attacks from. "But in losing, he gave it to me nonetheless."

"I fail to believe that any man would," the young merchant said, drumming his fingers against the table. "Do you have proof?"

"Do you require proof?" Queen Asabel said. "Or do you doubt the Pendragon House? Do you look upon the sigil of the dragon that we have been allowed to bear since the time of the First King, and do you expect from us the same sort of pettiness that would follow normal disputes? Indeed, merchant, my Kingdom is on fire. But that is what happens when dragons fight – the kingdom burns."

Her words evoked a chill. For the first time in their argument, the young merchant seemed to be at a loss. His eyes widened. His fingers stopped their drumming on the desk, and he seemed to realize something altogether different. The enraged woman that stood before him was not fuelled by the spirit of hysteria, or petty outbursts. It was the resolute certainty and strength that came from the bonds of her ancient family. It was the spirit that animated them all. The spirit that had given rise to the Hero Arthur.

"…Word can be sent to the Pendragon estate," Lord Idris offered, sensing that the moment was ripe. "But they would scorn you for needing to ask – for needing that proof. You should be able to tell, with the briefest glance at a history book, what their decision might be. The old King Pendragon had his wars with Arthur as well. But to the very end, to the very end, the Pendragon bonds hold strong."

"We are forged through fire," Asabel said. "We find purity through the flames. We are a clumsy monarch, and we leave much destruction in our wake. But that is our justice, merchants, that is our honesty. You can be certain that all we are, we put on the table, and we dare you challenge us for what indeed we are. You know my opinions now, merchants. You know indeed how I see you. You know indeed what I want from you, and how far I am willing to go in seeing it done. Now, I dare you to challenge me for what I am."

She glared around at them again, that little canine of hers protruded from her mouth, her eyes unblinking, and her presence suffocating. Even Lancelot, being of the Second Boundary as he was, found the aura that she had about her almost crushing. It wasn't Command. He knew Command. It was something else entirely. Something that ran parallel, and made him want to kneel, and declare his loyalty to her again.

They didn't speak. The merchants looked at each other, unsure of themselves. They'd come in search of gold, and they'd been forced in another direction entirely. Theirs were the expressions of men that wondered if their original point held any meaning at all.

"Is it gold that you are after, again?" Asabel said once more. "Or do you see this fiery path that we blaze forward for ourselves, and wonder, indeed, what the flames might reveal? For merchants I have no respect. But I could find some for men that would look for meaning in fire. For men that would take risks, for the sake of an ideal, beyond merely the accruement of comfort. Such men I would not call merchants. I would call them Traders of Royal Commission."

"Traders of Royal Commission…" the young merchant said carefully. "And what would be the benefits of such a post?"

"You would trade with the seal of the crown," Queen Asabel said. "The authority of that ought be enough for you. You will help see this country of ours rebuilt. For indeed, where there is much room for improvement, there is much room for opportunity. I offer you not a mountain of coin. I offer you, instead, the position in which you can make a difference to this country."

They were merchants that had climbed their way as high as they were for a reason. They knew that at times, there were offers that ought to be taken not for the gold that they seemed immediately able to accrue, but for the influence that they might be able to exert, that would otherwise lead to more opportunities.

"And if we lose this war?" Came the question from another middle-aged merchant that had yet to speak. "Then what would our efforts mean?"

"You ought be aware now, as much as I am, that a war is won just as readily with supplies and proper trade routes than it is with swords," Queen Asabel said. "So I will leave that question to you gentlemen and your confidences. Do you believe that you are so inferior to those merchants of the Capital? Do you believe that you will lose to them, even when they are not given the authority to ask as you are? Do you look upon these Pendragon lands and where we are situated, in such close proximity with the Verna, and do you declare that there is naught you can do? I am an amateur in trade, but even I can see that the dissolution of the border between my Asabelian lands, and the reunion of it into Pendragon territory entirely should bring a degree of prosperity."

"…" There was quiet muttering amongst them, as the Queen appealed to their pride. The young merchant sat, with his lips twisted, considering it alone, letting the hushed murmurs wash over it. He was the first to speak out of all of them – a man that had seen his career rise so rapidly on account of the opportunities that he had so swiftly taken.

"If I wished to deal with the Yarmdon?" He said. "Would you limit me?"

"I would encourage you, and give you the soldiers that you require for safe passage," Asabel said.

"Then I am in agreement," the young merchant said. "Grant me this post, Queen Asabel, and the opportunity that comes along with it, and I shall be of use to you."