Fic: The Snare (2/3)

[angelqueen04]

Relevant information in Part I.



Cameron was not present when the Asgard officially arrived in the camp, but he saw them soon enough. The entire group seemed so small, and each face was bizarrely similar to the next. He wondered how such uniformity had arisen.

They brought with them strange contraptions, but he did not get much of a chance to see them. The Asgard declined to stay within the Caldorans' camp, but pitched their simple tents some distance away. Seven of them went to the king's tent, with a select few of the nobles. Cameron was not invited. In the meantime, he sought out the company of Jolan of the Sodan, trying to quell his curiosity on other matters. It was rather a failure, as the entire camp including the Sodan buzzed with questions over the new arrivals. Eventually, he went back to his tent.

Several hours passed before John came away from the meeting, looking exhausted and irritated. Cameron could not contain himself. "Well?"

John settled down on the ground and sighed. "Well what?"

"What are the Asgard doing here?" Cameron demanded impatiently. "Has any decision been reached?"

"The king has chosen to accept the Goa'uld request for negotiations," John replied. "The Asgard will serve as mediators and observers."

There was a long silence, and Cameron sat down on the ground beside his cousin. "Can you imagine how Janet would react if she were here?"

John chuckled. "Once she got past her awe of them, she would have been pestering all of them with questions of health and medicine."

"Who knows? Perhaps she will have that opportunity someday," Cameron replied. This departure from Atalan seemed like a good sign to him. "I'm sure they'd get along wonderfully. She's about as tall as them."

"A little taller," John replied, still smiling. "As for why they came, I cannot say for certain but I have my suspicions."

"You don't think that queen of yours had anything to do with it, do you?" Cameron asked.

John bristled a little, but shook his head. "No, I don't," he said. "I don't know how much sway she has over them, though they tutored her when she was younger."

"Then why do you suspect they have come?"

"I wrote to Jonathan of Neill not long after arriving here." John wiped futilely at some dust on his knee. "I told him that if there was any help he could render us, it would be most gratefully received."

Cameron frowned. "But if the queen does not have that much sway over them, how would a marquis be able to bid them come?"

"I never heard the full story, but the leader of the group, Thor?" John replied. "I believe he owes a great debt to Jack."

Cameron didn't ask for more details on that subject. But the opportunity was before him to ask his cousin about something that had been troubling him for some days. "John," he said, cautiously, "do you miss Atalan?"

John didn’t hesitate. "As much as I miss my mother and father and brothers," he replied. He paused, glancing at Cameron and then looking away in frustration. "Cameron, I don't know that you'll understand this."

"Why not?" Cameron asked quietly.

John seemed to be dwelling in painful memories. "I lost everything here. In Atalan I was accepted. It wasn't without reservation, especially once my identity came to light, but those people put their faith in me. The- they gave me a reason to stay."

Cameron narrowed his eyes. "Why were you hiding your identity?"

John snorted. "I had no desire to be associated with Caldora, especially not in Atlantis."

That statement left a strange, hollow feeling in Cameron's chest. He had always thought that the men of Sheppard were proud of their heritage, proud of their country. John had never been an exception. The king, in a moment of weakness, had been unjust to him, but had not Caldora made John into the man he was? Was that not a part of his very being?

Cameron could feel that there was a great deal John was leaving unspoken, but he didn't press the issue. John had been more forthcoming in the last five minutes than he probably had been in the last five years. "I'm glad you're home, John," he said softly.

John got to his feet and didn't meet Cameron's eyes. "This isn't home, Cameron," he said tersely. "This hasn't been home in sixteen years."

John moved away before anything more could be said. Cameron was left still sitting on the ground, stunned. He wasn't sure what he'd expected out of this conversation, but he wasn't expecting this.

Carolyn had one constant in life at the moment: Walter Harriman. Every day was an endless but unique series of meetings to attend and fires to put out. The only thing that kept the young princess and regent sane through the mess was her father's secretary, steady and dependable. Every once in a while she would wonder why her father had not left Walter in charge in the first place. Sometimes it seemed like he was doing more of the governing than she was.

They were between meetings one morning when Carolyn yawned suddenly. Walter looked at her in concern. "Princess, are you all right?"

She shook her head and yawned again, this time covering her mouth. "Lord Davis and Sir Malcolm and I were all awake far too late last night," she replied. "We were formulating a report for my father."

She managed to stifle a third yawn, and just in time. Two viscounts of southern districts, Sean Grieves and Calvin Neumann, had come up to the open doorway and were glancing at the royal guards situated outside the office where Carolyn was conducting business. When Carolyn looked up, they bowed to her, and she beckoned them in.

One was holding a thick sheaf of paper that promised all manner of headaches for Carolyn, she was sure. "Gentlemen, good morning," she said.

"Good morning, Princess," they said, almost in unison.

"What brings you here?"

Neumann shifted almost anxiously, lifting the papers he held. "As you know, my lady, a shipment of supplies arrived from Atalan."

Carolyn could detect a note of disdain in his voice at speaking of their northern neighbor. She shared the sentiment, but ever since the invasion had brought with it the revelation of her father's contact with Queen Elizabeth, she had resolved to suppress that as much as possible. At the moment, she turned her thoughts to the caravan of winter wheat that had arrived from southern Atalan the previous day. The harvest on the other side of the mountains seemed to have been plentiful.

It was not the only caravan to arrive in recent days, of course. To Carolyn's great surprise, men from Iolan had come, bringing food and salt, as did their Atalanian allies, but also bearing a considerable number of swords, bows, and arrows. Carolyn had sent the entire caravan west to the army, marveling at their arrival and wondering if Elizabeth of Atalan had had something to do with that as well.

The other man cleared his throat. "That is to say, the wheat and other supplies must be rationed out to the various provinces."

"And you two have taken it upon yourselves to draw up a plan for dividing everything up?" Carolyn asked.

"We were involved with it the last time a caravan arrived," Grieves said. "The others whom we worked with that time have joined with the army now."

Repressing a sigh, Carolyn held out her hand for the papers, which were passed over reluctantly. "My lady, if you have more pressing matters, you might give us the signature we need now and allow us to take care of this ourselves," Neumann said. "I assure you, this is strictly routine."

"And I assure you, my lord," she replied, "that nothing in this country at present is strictly routine." She set the papers aside. "I will return this to you when I have had a chance to review the scheme."

The two men nodded and took their leave, and Carolyn attempted to turn her attention back to the task before her. "What do we know about them?" she asked Walter idly.

"They're both married," Walter replied, not looking up.

"What?" Carolyn said, her tone a little sharp.

He looked up at her then, his eyes wide and his face getting red. "Oh, forgive me, Highness," he said. "I meant that they are unlikely to have some ulterior motive where you are concerned."

Carolyn nodded, but she also frowned, looking at the papers they had left. They had very much wanted her to sign off on their plan without actually looking at it, and that did not sit well with her. "I'm not so sure of that, Walter."

When it was time for dinner, Carolyn took the distribution plan with her, intending to look it over while waiting for the food to be brought. Her mother and Lord Davis arrived to find her poring over it, frowning again. "Carolyn," her mother said, "is something wrong?"

Belatedly Carolyn remembered how much her mother had always hated her father's tendency to bring paperwork to the dinner table if he was especially busy, but this was different, she told herself. "Lord Davis," she said, "did you give instructions to Neumann and Grieves to draw up a plan to distribute the winter wheat that arrived yesterday?"

"Of course not. That was your duty, not mine." Davis cast a puzzled glance at the queen.

"Nor I," she said. "I take it they have brought you one?"

Carolyn nodded. "They said they were involved with it the first time we received supplies from Atalan."

Davis sighed heavily and came up to the table, first holding out a chair for Aurelia and then sitting on Carolyn's other side. "They were involved with the physical distribution and nothing more," he said. "Doubtless they remember some of the details, but your father had possession of all reports of lack in the country, not them. I had intended to direct you to that information this afternoon so that you could draw up a distribution plan."

"The attempt to help me is laudable," Carolyn said, carefully, "but I do not feel that I can trust them. When they presented me with the plan, they seemed uncomfortable with the idea of me reviewing it before approving it."

The food was brought in before any answer could be given to Carolyn, but after they had eaten dinner and the dishes were cleared, the three of them sat at the table and began searching through the papers she had brought. Barely a quarter of an hour had passed before her mother said, "I've found it."

"Already?" Carolyn asked, incredulous.

Aurelia held out a sheet so that Carolyn and Lord Davis could both look at it. "By this plan, both Neumann and Grieves will receive significant shipments of wheat to their provinces," she explained. "Such a thing would hardly be necessary. Wheat is the principle crop in both provinces, and they have had good harvests, both last fall and with this year's winter wheat."

Carolyn didn't immediately process the significance of this, but thankfully Davis did. "They're planning to mix the Atalan wheat in with their own," he said.

"And sell it for pure profit," Carolyn finished, understanding at last. "An ingenious plan, some would think."

"They intended to prey upon your own ignorance of these matters," her mother said, in a matter-of-fact tone that Carolyn did not appreciate. "It is good that you brought this to us."

Carolyn opened her mouth, but decided to hold her tongue. Part of her wanted to point out that it was good that her mother still knew so much about the practical workings of the country that she could recall at will the chief products of a province not even bordering the one where she spent all her time. But more pressing was drawing up a real plan for distributing the supplies from Atalan, not to mention figuring out how to punish two viscounts for their presumption of her gullibility.

The Caldorans had stalled the arrangements as long as they dared, and when the time finally came to meet with the invaders, Henry adopted a confidence he hardly felt and walked across the strip of earth to the tent erected by the Asgard. It was situated at equal distance from the two armies' encampments, which was the closest they could come to neutral ground in this place.

As expected, the strange, short Asgard priests sat at the head of a long table. Henry led the Caldoran delegation to one side, where they stood and waited. A few minutes later the Goa'uld lords entered the tent. There was a minor scuffle at the doorway, as some of the Goa'uld appeared to have brought personal servants in defiance of the Asgard mandate that only the nobles who functioned as leaders be present.

Once the Asgard had repelled the uninvited guests, the Goa'uld lords lined up across the table from the Caldorans. Henry recognized Apophis, Bastet, and another man who he believed was Heru-ur, while two other men filed in whom he did not know. At the far end, though, nearest to Master Thor, was an older man with a long mustache whom Henry remembered glimpsing briefly many years ago, Lord Yu. Rumored to be the oldest among the living Goa'uld lords, he immediately gave Henry the impression of being a tough old bastard, and the one man in the room he didn't want to cross.

Master Thor spoke briefly, reminding everyone in the room of the requirements laid down by the Asgard before beginning this mediation. Though the small priest's features were difficult to read, it seemed Thor was irritated with the Goa'uld for the stunt with their servants. Henry wondered how long the legendary patience of the Asgard would hold in the face of these discussions.

The Goa'uld were given primacy in speaking, because they had called for the negotiations in the first place. That hadn't sat well with a number of the Caldorans. As the invaded country, many of them felt they should have the right to address the assembly first. But now they sat silently as Apophis rose to his feet.

"The immortal lords of the Goa'uld here assembled offer thanks to the noble Asgard order for agreeing to oversee this mediation," he said, with just a flicker of contempt in his gaze when he glanced at Thor and his companions. Thor merely blinked his wide eyes.

"We also wish to recognize the courage and resiliency of the people of this land, who have fought and died so bravely in defense of it. The Caldorans have acted with honor in the face of great peril and overwhelming forces."

On Henry's right, Stephen shifted slightly in his seat.

Apophis glanced at his fellows. "However, we wish the lords of Caldora to understand this meeting was not called as an act of capitulation on our part, but to offer King Henry and his leaders a chance to spare their people any more losses."

Here he paused, probably for dramatic effect. Henry was irritated enough to interject, "Our losses, my lord, have not been nearly as grave as those we have inflicted."

Apophis glared. "Perhaps not in men, but our armies are encamped over half of your country. And it is no secret that your people have not the resources to replace lost soldiers easily."

Henry could feel his own face clouding with anger. On Stephen's other side, Maybourne spoke up. "Which does beg the question why your graces would bother with invading a nation that could not provide you spoils commensurate with the effort and blood it cost to gain even this much."

Apophis took the bait Maybourne offered him. "Our goals in this action were quite simple. We were informed that Caldora was massing an army against us." He spread his hands. "The Goa'uld were merely acting to protect themselves."

"What?" John demanded incredulously from Henry's left.

Henry was having nearly as much trouble controlling his own temper. Apophis smirked at them, mocking their anger and the impotence of their fury.

Thor intervened, tapping on the table. "The purpose of this meeting is to discuss conditions for ending this dispute, not to begin arguments regarding how the present situation came about." He fixed Apophis with a harsh gaze. "You should begin by stating your terms."

Apophis nodded, glancing briefly at Lord Yu. "As I was saying, having proved that we would not be cowed by Caldoran intimidation, it is our intention to protect our easternmost territories from any further threat. The Goa'uld will retain possession of the lands we have now conquered and divide it among the lords who have mounted this army." Apophis stared at Henry, almost daring him to speak. "The lands from the old border to the Otero will be yielded to us."

Stephen sputtered and John's jaw dropped into his lap. Henry clamped his mouth shut so tightly he drew blood from his own tongue. Only Maybourne remained calm, which was one of the reasons Henry had brought the man along.

"The people of Sheppard will never submit to a Goa'uld as their master," John said, his voice almost a growl. "Just because your army has swept forward does not mean you have conquered the people or the land you have merely passed by."

Bastet spoke for the first time. "Perhaps, but we are the ones with the men and resources to hold these lands, and you lack the supplies to retake them."

John began to speak again, but Thor cut him off. "Enough. A proposal has been laid on the table for consideration. Your Majesty?"

Henry's every instinct was to spit in the face of these bastards, but he caught the steely glance of Lord Yu, and a warning look from Maybourne. He must remember their purpose here. He swallowed, hard. It galled him. It galled him immensely, but he gritted his teeth and replied, "I will need to consult my advisors before I can respond to this request, Master Thor."

Thor inclined his head. "Very well. We shall adjourn then until King Henry has had sufficient time to consult with his men on this matter."

The Caldorans left first, since they had been first to arrive. None of them spoke until they were in the privacy of Henry's tent, ignoring the frantic curiosity of those they passed along the way. John and Stephen, for once oddly united, burst into a litany of angry ranting regarding the Goa'uld's demands. Ceding half the nation! It was unthinkable.

Henry shared their fury but he forced himself to focus on Lord Maybourne. His personal dislike of the man and distrust of his morals was, ironically, what made him the best person to witness the negotiations. Henry hoped that Maybourne would read more into the situation than he could.

Maybourne was sipping a mug of ale and ignoring the ranting of the others until Henry leaned forward in his chair. "Well?"

Maybourne waved a hand. "I am left curious about only one thing."

"Which is?" Stephen asked, somewhat belligerently. Maybourne's placid demeanor was a bit irritating, especially mixed with the superiority the man was exuding.

Maybourne raised his mug, and raised his eyebrows at Stephen. "Was I the only one who noticed the remarkable absence of Lord Ba'al?"

Returning to Redwater, for Aurelia, meant resuming the social duties of a queen, though war had curtailed them to some degree. Most of the men were away, meaning that when Aurelia dined with a larger group, there were generally only women present. Her daughter had no difficulty navigating the noblewomen who were currently in residence at Redwater, which made things a little easier for Aurelia herself. She'd always disliked having to put up with the banality of gossiping tongues.

On one evening, however, when they were to dine with the Marchioness of Medinah and the Countess of Dixon, among others, Carolyn was several minutes late. The bread was already being passed around the table before she arrived, wisps of hair having fallen around her face and her cheeks a little flushed. "Forgive me, Mother," she said, sliding into the empty chair. "I was long in discussion with Lord Bradley's aide and did not note the time."

"It is no matter, Carolyn," Aurelia replied.

While Carolyn filled her own glass with wine, the servants brought in the main course. The only course, Aurelia reminded herself. When Carolyn had suggested to the nobles in Redwater that they ought not use up so much of their limited resources themselves when the men at the front were in need, many had balked. But Carolyn had remained firm in the idea, and anyone who ate at her table ate only what he needed, not what he wanted.

Truthfully, Aurelia had been a little surprised by how her daughter had handled that. When she was a girl of nineteen, she had not possessed such delicacy.

Carolyn was rather quiet as the lamb was served. Around the table the women were discussing the quality of the food and the spices used in its preparation. Inwardly, Aurelia laughed. These women were no more cooks than soldiers, but she had little doubt that the conversation would soon turn to the war in the west.

Some of the women were more informed than others. David Dixon wrote frank letters to his wife, Juliana, but while she clearly had a strong idea of what was going on in the army, she was wise enough to hold her tongue in certain company. That was more than could be said for Lady Gwendolyn Pierce, whose husband had the good sense to write little of substance to her, but that did not stop her from prattling away as though she knew what she was talking about.

It was at the end of one of Lady Gwendolyn's near-hysterical ramblings that Lady Juliana cleared her throat. "Well, I think we can all agree that the army has done very well for itself," she said. "With any luck we will all be in our own homes again before the summer is over, but if not, I have always observed that women are quite capable of managing affairs. We will do as well as we can for ourselves."

Aurelia opened her mouth then to change the subject, but the Marchioness of Medinah spoke first. "That is all well and good, Juliana," said Lady Isolde, speaking more familiarly than the countess would probably like, "but it is not our place, and I for one hope that things will be back to normal as soon as possible. I find it shameful that the king has left the governance of the country as he has."

It took a brave soul to speak out against the king in any respect. In this respect, before both the queen and the princess, it was foolishness. "Isolde," Aurelia said, trying to inject the word with as much reproof as she could.

The marchioness took no regard. "It is not a woman's place to rule, even in times like these," she said forcefully. "Were there no men who could be spared to serve as regent? The king left a child to fill his place!"

There was a time when Aurelia had expressed much the same thought about leaving Carolyn in particular as regent, but for now she wanted to laugh. In the years she'd known her, Aurelia had thought that Isolde wanted to be one of those wives who led their husbands around by the nose. Her husband, though, was hardly a man who would permit that treatment, and Aurelia had long thought that Isolde made up for it by crowing over the other noblewomen with her virtues as a dutiful and model wife.

"It will give the girl ideas," Isolde continued, as though Carolyn was not sitting there at the table herself. "Already she has refused a number of suitors, and why? Has her father's diplomacy with our northern neighbors produced a desire to take the crown for herself?"

"Marchioness," Carolyn interrupted softly, dangerously. The room fell silent as all the women stopped eating to focus on what was about to happen. Aurelia herself did not know what to expect.

Isolde took a moment to respond, setting down her fork. "Princess?"

"One would think you are privy to a great deal," Carolyn said. "Tell me, how do you come by such knowledge? Does your husband speak to you thus?"

Aurelia watched carefully, but Isolde was not foolish enough to implicate her husband in this dispute. "No, my lady," she said. "I speak my own mind."

Carolyn wiped her fingers delicately on her napkin and set the cloth aside. "Then there is something I wish to tell you," she replied. "I would not wish you to continue in such misconceptions."

Isolde nodded once, seeming perfectly respectful. Aurelia had always thought her something of a chameleon. "Of course, my lady."

"My royal father left me in his place from a genuine belief that I would serve him and our country well," Carolyn said. "If you disagree with him, you are of course free to take up the matter with him. If you like, I can broach the subject for you when I next write to him."

"That is not necessary," the older woman replied, her cheeks flushing a little.

Carolyn nodded. "I did not think so," she said. "As to the matter of my marriage, or rather my refraining from marriage, it is not from a desire to be queen regnant someday."

Seated at Carolyn's left hand, Lady Juliana looked curious. "Princess, if I may be so bold," she said, "why have you not married? You cannot claim you have had no opportunity."

"I do not marry for myself alone," Carolyn answered smoothly, "but for all of you, and for your husbands, and for your children. I must choose a good king first, and then a good father and a good husband. That is not a decision I will make simply because others feel it is time for me to be married. For Caldora's sake, I will not settle."

Juliana seemed satisfied with the answer, and Aurelia had to admit that she too was impressed with how her daughter had handled Isolde's spiteful comments. Carolyn had dealt with the marchioness gently and gracefully, while yet leaving Isolde with a firm impression of her own readiness for the task.

Aurelia had not seen the kind of king her husband had become since William's death, nor had she seen what he was trying to teach their daughter, but at last, she began to understand. Henry was making Carolyn into a queen.

The confrontation with the marchioness during supper had left Carolyn simmering. The woman’s shrewish statements had made her want to confront the woman directly, but she had reined in her temper and retaliated in a manner that no one could find fault with. Still, that did not mean that Isolde’s comments had not rankled.

Carolyn had also not been able to sleep much. Her thoughts had dwelled on Isolde’s words and wondered just how many others shared them but were not foolish enough to present them at her own table. She wondered if her mother also agreed that Carolyn should not have been left alone to run a country in the midst of an invasion.

Eventually, she forced herself to think on more immediate matters. It had required some thought, but by morning Carolyn had determined a method of dealing with Grieves and Neumann. While a public dressing down before the entire assembly would be very effective, she decided that a quieter meeting would suffice for now. Regent though she was, Carolyn did not wish to assemble the remaining lords unless so ordered by her father or by extreme necessity.

She took up residence in the study her father used for private audiences, summoning the two nobles to attend her. Walter stood nearby, his presence nearly unnoticeable.

Carolyn studied the expressions of the two men when they entered. She could see the hints of anxiety, though they managed to conceal most of it. With effort, she smiled at them. "Thank you, my lords, for coming. I have reviewed your proposal for the distribution of the Atalanian grain supplies and have a few minor questions before I sign it."

Grieves glanced at Neumann. "Of course, your Highness. We would be happy to assist you in whatever manner possible," he said. Carolyn credited him for keeping his voice from shaking.

She nodded and looked down at the papers. "You say here that the capitals of both your provinces require seven thousand pounds of the wheat each."

"Indeed, my lady," Neumann spoke up. “Our people are in great need of bread.”

"I see. I admit my inexperience in matters of food distribution, my lords, but I do believe my tutors found my knowledge of our country's geography to be more than satisfactory. Wheat is the primary crop in that part of the country and the fall and spring harvests have been more than sufficient." Carolyn paused and looked up at them. Both men had lost what little color they had in their faces. She resisted the urge to gesture them into the nearby chairs.

"I, that is," Neumann stammered.

"Gentleman," Carolyn cut him off, her tone discouraging both lies and excuses, "do you mean to tell me that you were unaware of the produce of your own lands?"

Neither man answered, just stared at her. After a moment, she continued. "It would have been within my rights to take this before the entire assembly for scrutiny," she informed them coldly, "but I chose not to pursue that option. However, if such a blatant attempt at stealing food from the mouths of our soldiers and our people should ever occur again, I will not hesitate to bring up charges against you."

"Y-Yes, Highness," Grieves stuttered. Both men bowed and turned, intending to flee the room.

"I did not dismiss you." Carolyn's voice could have frozen water. Slowly, they turned again to face them. "If you have urged any of your friends to take advantage of my inexperience, I suggest you now dissuade them otherwise. Any other such attempts will not be tolerated and will be brought to the assembly's attention, along with your own. Now get out of my sight."

She watched them both rush out of the room and sighed, leaning back in the chair. Discovering Grieves and Neumann's little scheme had not proven difficult, and while her mother had been the one to catch on, Carolyn was certain that had she not been there, it still would have been uncovered. Perhaps through asking Davis or Walter about the plans, but it would have been found.

Nevertheless, the queen had far more experience in these kinds of duties than Carolyn. Perhaps she had assisted the king in the past with them, though truthfully, Carolyn did not care overly much. The tension and avoidance of duty that had been routine for her family since William's death had gone on long enough. She needed to speak with her mother.