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Ch 3 - Meeting With The Voice

  Lovu

  “Congratulations,” a stern looking woman said as Lovu was escorted into a meeting room in the Palace. She sat at a tremendous conference table parsing through neatly piled stacks of parchment and sipping at a delicate teacup. “I was wondering when you’d finally get here.”

  The woman was Fitmi – Lovu’s eldest sister. They both took heavily after their mother with dusty blonde hair and delicate features. The major differences were Fitmi’s short hair which she wore tightly pinned up to stay out of the way – a style typical for Honors – and the harsh glint in her eye that inspired more fear than joy. Although she was still relatively young at 29 years old, she commanded just as much presence as the most seasoned Honor.

  “Yeah. High Advocate’s a big deal,” a man sitting a few seats down from her said between bites of food. He also had large stacks of parchment surrounding him, but they were strewn haphazardly around as he tore into his roast bird.

  That man was Ete, Lovu’s older brother. He was 25 and stood out the most of the three. While Lovu and Fitmi looked like their mother, Ete was a carbon copy of their father, only rounder and softer. His father’s sharp angular features were blunted on Ete, hidden by long dark hair that hung straight as an arrow over his shoulders.

  Now that Lovu was there, all three heirs to Hangkiti were together. Typically, the Voice would sire as many children as possible. While they had a number of other siblings, few made it past childhood and only those three reached adulthood. Their mother had been frail and sickly, passing not long after Lovu was born. Most others in Engteng’s position would have wed again, but his love for Ipyi was too great to replace.

  Lovu had basically no memories of her, but had been showered with stories of his parents’ devotion to each other and the love she held for her children. Any time he saw the portraits of their family, he would absentmindedly play with the gold ring that he always wore. It was made of thin gold wire bent in the shape of an Advocate’s Wounds – specifically the Wound of hope, which was earned by leading a congregation safely through hardship. It had been passed down through Ipyi’s family before she married Engteng, and before she passed, she gave it to Lovu.

  “Thank you for your congratulations,” Lovu said, taking a seat across the table from his siblings. An attendant came over with tea and an assortment of food ranging from sweets to grilled meat. He gladly accepted tea but passed on the food to save space for dinner with Akil. “I am overwhelmed with joy that my efforts have been recognized by Fam’e. I had no idea that the High Advocate thought so highly of me.”

  Ete choked on a bite and had to take a moment to compose himself, earning a glare from Fitmi. “Yeah, it’s quite the surprise,” he said after catching his breath. “I can’t believe you didn’t come to tell us right away. Do you have any idea how much work we’re going to have to do to prepare for your appointment?”

  Lovu’s face instantly flushed. “I-I am so sorry, I planned on informing you all by letter tomorrow. I knew preparations had to be made but didn’t expect one day to make that much of a difference.”

  “Ignore him Lovu,” Fitmi said. “We were informed as soon as the declaration was made and have already begun preparations. It is not your job to handle such matters. Ete just can’t help but stir trouble where there is none, even when he has his own duties to attend to.”

  “And you can’t help but stomp on my fun,” Ete said in response, slurping the final scraps of meat off of the bone he was focusing on before flicking it straight at her head. Without even looking up from the paper, she cocked her head just enough for the bone to sail past. As soon as it hit the ground, an attendant dashed from their post by the wall, picked it up, and returned to attention in one swift movement. Lovu smiled awkwardly at the interaction, quietly mouthing an apology to the attendant.

  “I appreciate your concern, but brother is right,” Lovu said, sipping at his tea. “Even if you all were informed, I should have at least been the one to send the messenger. I’m 19 now. It’s high time I take a more active role in the Palace. As High Advocate, it will be important for us to all remain on the same page to ensure Hangkiti continues to flourish.”

  For the first time, Fitmi looked up from her work, leveling her steely gaze at Lovu. “That’s very mature of you, but you will serve Hangkiti best by focusing on your duties as High Advocate. In the Palace, we hear stories of your drive to organize blessings and expand Fam’e’s reach, and they inspire us to do our best. You will have advisors and attendants to handle the logistics, so all you need to do is continue to display the commitment to your faith that earned you the position in the first place.”

  Disappointment mixed with pride in Lovu’s chest as she simultaneously praised his work and denied him more responsibility. “Thank you for your kind words, sister. I simply wished to ease your burden however possible.”

  Fitmi nodded and looked back down at her work. “Your concern warms my heart, but you are already doing more than your fair share.”

  Ete snorted at that but before anyone could acknowledge it, the doors behind Lovu creaked open and an attendant announced Voice Engteng’s arrival. All three of his children stood to greet him.

  The Voice of Hangkiti entered in a fine suit, a far step down from the decadent regalia he wore for public events, but still imposing enough to take the breath from Lovu’s chest. He was the most powerful man in the southern peninsula and all it took was a glance to see that.

  “Your majesty,” Lovu said, dropping to a knee. The words had barely left his lips before he felt a firm hand on his shoulder.

  “There is no need to be so formal Lovu,” his father said, guiding him back to his feet. “You are my son and soon enough, we will be of equal station. You must learn to stand proud no matter who you face.”

  Lovu’s chest swelled as he bathed in his father’s smile. Taking the instruction in stride, he pulled his shoulders back and stood tall. “In that case, it is good to see you again, my Voice.”

  “There we go,” his father said, patting him on the shoulder. From there, he strode to the heat of the table and closest to Fitmi. “The rest of you may be at ease as well, this ought to be a joyous occasion.”

  “Of course, father,” Fitmi said, immediately gathering a stack of paper and placing it in front of him. “Here are this season’s agricultural and financial reports as well as the predicted yields we can expect over the fall and winter.”

  Engteng flicked through the pages she presented him, scanning and nodding in approval, until he stopped on a page and scowled. “You are the one who prepared the financial statements as well?”

  “I am.”

  “I see…” he said, setting a stern glare toward Ete. The brutish man weathered it completely unfazed. “Is there a reason why Fitmi is doing your job?”

  “There have been several urgent requests for financial mediation between a number of the lower Lords that have kept me occupied. I asked Fitmi to share the burden.”

  The Voice scanned the room, eyes flicking between Fitmi and Ete. The siblings were glaring at each other, but neither said anything. Eventually, he sighed. “Well, if your sister is gracious enough to accept the burden without complaint, then I see no reason to intervene. Just don’t make a habit of it, or I will handle royal mediations in your place. Am I understood?”

  “Crystal clear, father,” Ete said with a smirk.

  Through this whole interaction, Lovu watched with bright eyes. It was rare for him to see his family in action, deliberating about how best to help the nation. As the youngest child with extensive responsibilities within the villa and the church, he hadn’t been given the opportunity to learn much about the specifics of what his family did. Most of what they were saying went over his head, but he made note of anything that confused him so he could research it later.

  “Now,” Fitmi said, sliding a new paper across the table. “I have also put together an itinerary of all the non-seasonal tasks that will need to be completed in preparation for Lovu’s appointment. We must furnish his new chambers in the Pedestal, commission a whole new wardrobe of ceremonial robes, plan the festival to follow his appointment, curate the guest list, and send out invitations as soon as possible.”

  “Which of those can I help with?” Lovu asked, perking up in his seat. Fitmi and Engteng shared a look until he nodded for her to take the lead.

  “The wardrobe and furnishings could use your expert touch,” she said, passing some papers to Lovu. “I am always impressed by what you have done with the villa when I visit.”

  “Ah… of course,” Lovu said, reading through them. They contained a list of measurements for the High Advocate’s room in the Pedestal as well as all the seasonal garments and particular accessories he would need to serve all of the normal ceremonies.

  The Advocate’s Pedestal was the largest temple in the world dedicated to Fam’e and the center of her worship’s organization. It was directly adjacent to the Lords’ Residence and would be Lovu’s primary residence once he was appointed. He already spent a decent portion of his time there as an Advocate, but this shift would completely recenter his life to revolve around it instead.

  “In my absence, who will manage the villa?” he asked, realizing that he likely wouldn’t have the time to on top of his new duties.

  “We can delegate those duties to an attendant, or… perhaps we can appoint Lamka Vor to manage it instead?” his father said, raising an eyebrow at Fitmi. Lamka was Akil’s uncle, so Lovu knew him well. Their families were close, but inviting someone outside of your family to manage your villa wasn’t something that you simply did for friends. It only really happened when the person in question was due to be wed into the family.

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  “If you believe he will be a suitable match, then I have no objections,” she said with a simple nod.

  “Oh, that is great news!” Lovu exploded, his eyes swelling with joy. “I did not know you and Lamka were close.”

  “We have not spent time together outside of council meetings, but he is a proud Honor and has served his house well,” Fitmi said plainly, already preparing the next stack of papers.

  “You’re… not in love with him?”

  “Of course not, but that is beside the point. Now, here are…” Fitmi continued listing topics that needed the Voice’s attention, completely unbothered. All of the excitement drained from Lovu’s face as he looked around to find that he was the only one who found the turn of events surprising.

  The meeting continued at that pace with Lovu falling further and further behind with every new topic. The most upsetting part, however, was the fact that his inability to contribute didn’t seem to stall the rest of them at all. Regardless of whether he was there or not, the meeting would have continued all the same. Fitmi ran out of talking points just as the sun was about to set.

  “Excellent work as always, Fitmi,” Voice Engteng said, passing the papers he needed to take with him off to an attendant. He stood to take his leave and everyone else rose with him. “This will help immensely in the upcoming Council session.”

  “Of course, father,” Fitmi said, bowing deeply. “Anything for Hangkiti.”

  “Ete, I expect you to show the same level of diligence,” he said, his voice turning cold and stern.

  “Of course, father,” Ete said, bowing a few inches deeper than his sister, but the tone in his voice made his disdain for the rebuke obvious.

  “And Lovu, congratulations on your appointment once again. You will do our family proud.”

  “Thank you-” Lovu said, bowing as well, but before he could finish his sentence, Voice Engteng was already on his way out of the room. As he looked up, he saw that his siblings were doing the same. The praise felt hollow and cold in his chest as he was left alone.

  Was it because I didn’t do enough?

  He stood there for a moment, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. Luckily, it all came back to one thing: his inexperience. As soon as he realized that, his head picked up again.

  If I can learn to be as useful as Fitmi, that will change things. All I have to do is learn how to help!

  Having a solid goal in mind immediately reinvigorated him. He swept up the files for his wardrobe and furnishings and practically skipped out of the room as he tallied a list of topics to research before he met with his family again.

  The sun was just dipping below the horizon by the time Lovu returned to his villa. Fitmi provided a small escort of Honors to accompany him, but they were Palace guards and returned as soon as he was inside. After checking in with Lehil, he learned that Akil still hadn’t returned, but their dinner was prepared. For the sake of privacy and consideration, he dismissed all but the bare minimum staff for the night and sat down at the dinner table with parchment and a quill to start recording what he learned at the meeting.

  Most of the items on his list were terms that he had heard Fitmi use, like deficit, levy, and something called a giyoten. Based on the context she used them in, he was able to guess a lot of their general meanings, but some were so unfamiliar that he wasn’t even sure how to spell them. Either way, they would serve as the beginning of his studies.

  By the time he finished listing everything he could, he looked up and found that far more time had passed than he realized. All traces of light were gone from the sky and the fresh, hot meal had gone cold.

  I promise to do everything within my power to return before sunset.

  Akil’s promise echoed in his mind as he stood to find Lehil and ask whether he had sent word about a delay. As he passed the dining hall’s tremendous windows, he caught a flicker of light out of the corner of his eye. Like a candle being lit, a pillar of fire peaked over the walls of the Lords’ Residence before dropping back down.

  Then another.

  And another.

  A moment later, the earth trembled beneath his feet and several framed family portraits on the wall clattered to the ground. Lovu staggered back and had to brace himself on the table as he stared out in terrified wonder.

  Hangkiti occasionally suffered from earthquakes, but this was completely different. He ran to the dining hall door and threw it open to find Lehil, Itkilmo, and another one of the villa’s Honors running toward him.

  “W-what was that?” he asked, unable to suppress the quiver in his voice.

  “I-it looks like there’s been an attack on the southern gate,” Itkilmo said. Although he was an Honor, he was barely a year older than Lovu and had only recently finished his training. His eyes were wide and panicked, which Lovu could only imagine reflected his own. The image jolted him back to his senses as Fam’e’s words echoed in his mind.

  My Advocates must lead first by example. Only by faithfully adhering to my path can they bring others to peace.

  Thumbing his mother’s ring and swallowing the scream threatening to escape his throat, Lovu steeled himself. “Who is still on duty?” he asked, a far shout from the panicked child he was before. Itkilmo followed suit, putting on a calmer mask as he stood at attention and gripped the hilt of his sword.

  “Me and Wangom are the only Honors still here,” he said, gesturing to the older Honor standing just behind him. “The kitchen staff are still on site, as are your bedroom personnel. 10 attendants in total.”

  Lovu nodded solemnly as he immediately started building a list of everyone in his mind. As the villa’s manager, he kept a mix of attendants on staff at all times, with at least a third being older members like Lehil who had served their family for a long time. They knew how to do their jobs the best and were in charge of training and raising the next generations expected to take over their roles once they retired.

  It kept the villa running smoothly, but it presented a challenge now. Lovu’s immediate idea was to evacuate to the Palace, where there would be more Honors on duty. The only problem was that the southern gate was mere minutes from the villa, so they had to move quickly. The older staff wouldn’t be able to keep up, putting them at the most risk.

  There was only one option.

  “We’ll evacuate to the Voice’s Palace,” he said. “Gather all able-bodied staff, they will escape with us. Anyone not in a state to make the run will hold up here. Find a room to barricade yourself inside of and wait for the all clear. Wangom, stay here and protect them. Itkilmo, escort us to the palace.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Wangom asked bluntly, stunned by the suggestion.

  “You are a more experienced Honor than Itkilmo,” Lovu said. “We’ll have more support once we reach the palace. He should be enough to get us there, but we don’t need to rely on him alone. You will be the only person able to protect the staff until we can send reinforcements, so your talent will be better served here. I am sorry that I must ask you to take on that burden, but-”

  “You’re ordering me to stay here and defend the help?” Wangom asked, his frown turning into a grimace. “I am sorry your grace, but I will have to refuse. As the senior Honor on duty, I am assuming command. Me and Itkilmo will escort you to the Palace while the staff may hold up here. Now, we’ve wasted enough time. Let’s go.”

  “B-but-” Lovu tried to object, but Wangom was already marching toward the door. His mind raced to try and find some way to refuse the order, but nothing came. In the end, what broke him out of the daze was a gentle hand on his shoulder.

  “We appreciate the thought, your grace,” Lehil said in his wispy, frail voice, “but Sir Wangom is correct. Your safety takes priority. We will make do here, but you must flee. You belong in the Palace.”

  Tears welled up in Lovu’s eyes, but he was in no position to refute his old attendant’s sacrifice. “I’ll send support as soon as I can.”

  “Stay safe, young master.”

  Doing his best to keep calm, Lovu dashed toward the exit, following Wangom’s lead.

  *** *** ***

  The streets of the Lords’ Residence were eerily quiet. In the open air, Lovu could hear the distant sounds of combat – metal on metal interspersed with cries of pain. Despite the noise, there was nobody to be seen outside of their villas. The permanent residents were likely planning to stand alone in their villas, since they each had a full retinue of guards.

  Wangom was setting the group’s pace, sprinting from block to block, carefully checking around each corner before continuing, always moving just fast enough for Lovu to keep up. Unfortunately, he was dressed for evening lounging and didn’t have time to change, so he was being forced to hike up his long robes as he ran. Even with those delays, they seemed to be moving at a steady pace as the sounds of violence fell further and further behind.

  As they neared the end of their trek, just a couple of blocks from the palace, Wangom paused at a corner. Lovu caught up and stood, waiting for the signal to continue, but it never came.

  “Sir Wangom? Is something the matter?”

  “I… don’t know. There’s another group there, but… something feels off.”

  “Oh, excellent. There is safety in numbers. Should we join them?”

  “I-”

  Before the Honor could respond, a new eruption of flame blasted them back. This one was close – from inside the Residence. The heat was unlike anything Lovu had ever felt before and it immediately stole the breath from his lungs as he hit the ground. Squinting through stinging eyes, he sat up to see flames licking at the Palace’s peaks.

  “N-no…” he gasped on instinct, the heat scouring his throat. “No!”

  He felt his mind spiraling, but before he could let out another word, Wangom firmly clasped his hand over Lovu’s mouth.

  “Quiet!” he hissed through his teeth. “You’ll draw their-”

  Lovu never found out what he was trying to say, as he heard a meaty thud and felt the hand on his face go limp. Looking up, Wangom had an arrow sticking out of the back of his head. The Honor’s body collapsed onto Lovu, his heavy armor pinning him to the ground and pressing the air from his lungs.

  “S-sir W-wangom?” Lovu stammered as the air was forced out of him.

  “Your grace!” Itkilmo shouted, heaving the body off of him. He moved to grab Lovu and pull him to his feet, but before he could an arrow lodged itself in the young Honor’s shoulder, just above his breastplate. Looking aghast between his charge and the arrow, his mouth moved in shaky jolts. “I-I’m sorry.”

  Lovu couldn’t process what he was possibly apologizing for as he watched the soldier, barely a year older than him, turn to flee. Itkilmo made it ten paces before another arrow caught him in the leg, sending him tumbling to the ground, and a third caught him under the chin.

  As quickly as the fight began, Lovu was left completely alone.

  “Well, well,” a familiar voice rang out from the corner. Lovu looked up to find Lord Tama Foyrilmang standing at the street corner, flanked by two Honors. Each one held a bow and arrow, knocked and ready to fire. “You’re not exactly who I was looking for, but you’re the second-best prize I could hope to find.”

  Lovu just stared at her, unable to even understand the words coming from her mouth. “L-lord Foyrilmang, w-what is the meaning of this?”

  “Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, High Advocate,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she strode up to Lovu with rope in hand. “All you have to worry about is keeping your mouth shut long enough to serve your purpose. Believe it or not, I don’t have anything against you personally, so I’m glad to make things as painless as possible. So long as you behave.”

  “W-what?”

  “Ah, ah,” she tutted, snapping the rope taut between her hands. “That’s already verging on being too mouthy. Let’s go ahead and-”

  As she knelt down to jam the rope in Lovu’s mouth, a series of tearing sounds came from behind her. The soldiers escorting her were both slumped on the ground, missing their heads. One was rolling across the marble brick street, leaving a trail of brilliant crimson in its path, while the other was flying through the air, directly at her face.

  It’s jagged metal helmet hit her nose with a sickening crunch, bouncing up into the air as she dropped to the ground. The back of her head slammed into the ground and the severed head fell cleanly down onto her face again with a dull thud, lacking the same crunch from the first impact.

  Lovu looked at her still body laying next to him in horror as he witnessed his fifth murder, all in the span of a minute. His vision went blurry as everything caught up to him and it suddenly felt like he was being crushed under Wangom again. He fought to breath as he braced for whoever his next assailant may be.

  Instead of another bloodthirsty killer, he found a soft, familiar face looking back at him. Akil stood there with bloody sword in hand, clutching a gaping wound in his side as he looked down at Lovu with calm reassuring eyes.

  “Come on. We need to get you out of here.”

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