Roland kissed his wife and children goodbye for the morning. He hated to leave them, but he knew he would have to get used to it. He had work to do.
The Council had summoned him due to some message from the coast that had come via pigeon. He had no prediction as to what it might be, so he put it from his mind for a moment longer to concentrate on his family.
"I love you," He said to Finn, and then to each of the babies. Ivan gurgled at him, seeming to reach up where the light shone on his father's hair, while the other two just stared.
"Have a lovely day," His wife smiled at him. She stood in the doorway, determined to be up and about despite Roland's reservations.
He wanted to stay and help her with the monumental task of caring for everyone, but duty called. He also had his qualms about leaving the babies for even a moment after Jimmy's rather surprising visit.
Still, everything seemed fine for now, and he smiled again before heading off toward the city center.
The weather was beginning to turn chilly, and the brisk walk was refreshing. It made it almost shocking when he entered the private Council chamber to such tension and angst.
Yelling might have been more calming than the icy silence of the room. Roland took his place and sat down, observing the various expressions of the room's occupants.
The Judge looked stoic, as he normally did. The Peacekeeper and new Provider both wore expressions of outrage and disdain, while the General gripped his writing pen hard enough to snap the innocent object. The Treasurer was gazing uncomfortably down, averse to whatever conflict pervaded the room, and nearest to Roland, his father's face was darker than a storm cloud.
Roland cleared his throat lightly, unsure as to what had already occurred. He wasn't late, but some preliminary discussion must have taken place. Perhaps the news was so urgent that it hadn't waited until the official beginning of the session.
These private sessions had become far more commonplace since the war. Before, they were quite rare and the meetings were always open to the public. Since the war, and the presence of spies, these preliminary private sessions had become vital; not everything needed to be known immediately by all the people.
The gazes turned on Roland, and he offered a tentative smile.
"I believe I have missed something," He said blandly.
"Indeed," Duncan rumbled. "These men have accused me of harboring secrets and traitors to mankind."
"That's not exactly the spirit in which the news was meant," The General said tensely, though he cut a sharp glance at the Peacekeeper and Provider. "I merely wanted to share the communication from the coast and ask if you could shed any light on the developments."
"What news?" Roland asked. Several of his friends were there, and he dreaded any bad news originating from that part of the world.
"Captain Riley has used one of the pigeons I sent with him to let us know about some concerns the Cetoans have." The General informed him, passing the note to a guard who brought it to Roland for his perusal.
He scanned the note curiously, and his eyes darkened.
"Obviously we are no help to them as far as searching for their missing ship," He said, "but the fear of the Void's return is one we all share. Why should the Rhone be to blame when they were the greatest victims of its cruelty?"
The Provider looked down, a bit cowed by the characterization, but the Peacekeeper spoke up.
"I understand that Titania had many minions amongst the Rhone. Since they abandoned everything that had been kept in the Darkness, they have suffered from poverty and the loss of many men. How are we to know for certain that none returned to the Darkness and began following the Void once again out of desperation?"
"We endured torture for generations! Trapped, little better than the halfling slaves it kept! If the Void has a foothold in our world again, it is likely because those treacherous devils did not all come to be freed from the spell they were under!" Duncan almost exploded from his chair.
"Still, even when a people endure torture, the taskmaster is familiar. How can you be sure no one has turned back to it?" The Peacekeeper pressed.
"Everyone who served her was questioned, and none showed the slightest indication of turning back." Duncan glared.
"That was two years ago! Much has changed," The Peacekeeper would not let up, and Duncan's anger was nearing its boiling point.
Roland reached over to his father's arm and gently squeezed.
"From the message, it sounds like a vague suspicion that something may be wrong. There is no evidence that it is anything more. Shall we leave each other's throats intact until we are sure that the Void has a foothold once more in this world, and then punish only those who have given rise to its return?" Roland spoke firmly but evenly.
"There is no one left among the Rhone that would follow it," Duncan sat back down with a grunt.
"Is there other business we are to attend to, or was this letter the main crux of this meeting?" Roland asked, hoping to move on to a less contentious subject.
"Ah, yes. There are now nearly one hundred Rhone women gathered to be sent to the sea. We have readied a Klain boat as well as one sent by the Cetoans to send them all." The Provider had been tasked with making sure there were adequate supplies and means to transport the brides to their destination.
"Perhaps I should give a speech for their departure," Duncan mused quietly.
"Yes, We thought that in a show of unity, we might impart the young women with an image of Rhone and Klain standing together to take with them in their new lives at the Sea. With effort, we believe all three kingdoms can become great allies," The General eyed a couple of the other Council members.
The purpose of the gathering was to promote cooperation and unity, not dissolve into dispute and disagreement. Perhaps they needed to remind themselves that they were on the same side as much as the people.
"An excellent idea," Agreed Roland, catching on to the General's purpose.
"We can depart just after the public meeting," The Judge, ever punctual, stood to indicate they should all make their way into the main chamber of the City Hall.
"Perhaps after that, I might visit my grandchildren," Duncan said under his breath to Roland, who smiled at him in response.
They took their places, ready to endure the often-tedious gathering, The public meetings could seem interminable, in both their eyes, but eventually it had to end.
Finally, at long last, it concluded and the public filed out. Roland and Duncan followed the Council out the back entrance and made their way to the river on horseback. The Council rarely went out all together as a group, and certainly didn't with the Rhone king and Ambassador.
Though it was almost impromptu, the procession gained a following and people followed behind the guards escorting the men. By the time they left the gates and reached the river, they had quite a collection of citizens in their wake.
The Rhone brides were all gathered by the boats with their things, preparing to depart, and were somewhat bewildered by what looked like a parade arriving.
Duncan dismounted first, since these were his people. He was recognized almost immediately, and word quickly spread through the group of women that their king had come.
"Women of Rhone, I have come to bid you farewell and good luck on your journey to the Southern Sea," He said regally. "You carry with you a long, proud tradition, and the hearts of all Rhone as you enter your new lives. Rest assured that you will always have a home with us, should you not find the sea to your liking. We are not dispatching you from our family, but welcoming your new husbands and in-laws into it."
The brief speech was met with cheers and applause, and each of the Council members moved among the women to express their best wishes for happy marriages.
Roland followed his father through the small crowd, smiling and clasping hands as necessary. Many removed their face coverings in the presence of their king, but some did not. One even ducked away shyly, covering her green eyes with her hand and stepping behind her bolder companions.
"Be brave, young miss," Duncan said kindly, "Your future life awaits."
She nodded but still did not look at him or speak, and the king moved onward. Roland lingered a moment, vaguely bothered, but not able to pinpoint exactly why.
Shrugging, he followed his father, eager to take the man home to enjoy the three grandchildren he had been blessed with. International relations was a heady and important thing, but somehow the smiles of Roland's babies seemed far more pressing.
Baby giggles are the best thing in the world.