I reincarnated in game

45 Tough Questions

There had been a lot of activity in the palace after the bishop had been assassinated four days earlier.  Elizabeth had continued to be a guest of the king in the days following the riots in the square which had led her to postpone the announcement of her engagement.  She had apologized to Archibald about not discussing it with him beforehand but explained she had felt it necessary to make an immediate decision in an attempt to quiet the crowds … going forward with the engagement may have been adding fuel to the flames since the grievances were centered around the way money was being spent while they were struggling to live.  Archibald had been very good to accept her explanation and apology.  In the intervening days, she noticed that he was still very much preoccupied with the unrest which still continued.  There was a pronounced increase in the worry reflected in his features after the bishop had been murdered.

Elizabeth assembled her team that morning, asking that they pack up their belongings and get ready for their departure to Sdel … there was little point to staying on here at the castle when the engagement had been postponed indefinitely.  While they were acting on her instructions, Elizabeth went to see the king.

She was surprised at how much he seemed to have aged in the last four days.  The stress he was under was clearly written on his face.    “What is wrong, Archibald?” she asked with concern in her voice.

“Elizabeth, I am so stressed.  I have not been able to find who it was who killed the bishop.  My subjects are still rebelling and are fighting to have their taxes reduced.  They keep saying how hungry they are and how hard it is to heat their homes,” he said.  “I don’t know what the solution is.  I want to help them; however, I have just learned that a delegation from both the Curia and the Chamber of Commerce is on its way from Second Level to get assurance that I have the matter in hand.  I don’t.  They will be arriving here later this evening,” the king lamented.

“Oh, dear,” Elizabeth responded.  “That is not good news.  It is hard enough to have to deal with the citizens of Aldo and their issues without the additional political pressures from Second Level.”  She reflected a few minutes on her planned departure and decided that she should stay on to support the king. 

“I have asked my staff to ready themselves to return to Sdel.  I will tell them to continue to prepare for their departure; I will stay here with you to support you when the delegation arrives,” replied the saint.

The king looked at her with gratitude in his eyes.  He patted her hand.  “Thank you, my dear,” he said with a weary smile.  “The delegation will be picked up by my staff at the airship station this evening and returned to the castle for the night.  We will be meeting with them in the morning.  I appreciate that you are staying on to stand with me.”         

The passengers readied themselves to disembark as the airship docked in Aldo. Tom, and the others with him, picked up their bags and headed for the exit.  Tom smiled to himself as the gangplank lowered, touching the fresh layer of snow of on the ground.  This was Tom’s first visit to Third Level; as he took in the scene of the snow covered city of Illad here in Aldo, he realized how different everything was.  Tom inhaled deeply; even the cold air felt foreign to him as it tingled and burned his lungs.  “Maybe I should stay on a bit after my mission is over,” he said to himself.  “It’s a whole new world down here … I am bound to be able to find some excitement to entertain myself!”  

The delegation’s trip back to the castle was uneventful.  It was already dark.  Any rebels that may have been looking for trouble were likely all at home because the streets were deserted.  The delegates were shown to their accommodations after being served a warm meal.  They retired for the evening.  The big meeting was scheduled for mid-morning the following day.

The morning of the meeting with the delegates arrived with the howling winds and blowing snow of a fierce winter storm.  Archibald had risen early and saw the storm brewing.  “I hope this is not an omen of how things are going to go this morning,” he said to himself.  He dressed quickly and went down to breakfast in his private dining room where Elizabeth was waiting. 

“Good morning, Archibald,” she said as he approached. 

“Well I sure hope it will be,” he countered.  “I am worried that the scene in the meeting room will be as blustery as the weather outside!  Thanks again for being here.”

Elizabeth smiled, “Archibald, I know you are a very good king and have the interests of the citizens at heart.  The levels of taxation are not in your control; those are set by the government offices in Xaar on Second Level.  It will not be easy to find a balance between their demands and the well-being of your subjects; I have every confidence that you will do your very best.” 

“Thank you, Elizabeth,” Archibald replied.  “I certainly will try to live up to your expectations.”

After breakfast, they retired to a small room with a comfortable chesterfield in front of a warm fire.  The kitchen staff brought in a tray with two steaming cups of tea.  They sat in relative silence while sipping the hot beverage.  Was this the calm before the storm?

The delegation party had been treated to a royal breakfast in the main dining room.  They were given the opportunity to stretch their legs for a bit before being shown to the meeting room where coffee and tea were served.  They were already seated when King Archibald and Elizabeth entered the room.

Archibald walked over to take the seat at the head of the table.  Elizabeth sat immediately to his left.  The six delegates were seated along each side of the rectangular table. 

“Welcome to Aldo,” the king said.  Turning, he motioned to Elizabeth, “This is Saint Elizabeth.  She is here at my invitation.”  He turned back to address the delegates, “I trust that you have been made to feel comfortable.  Please make yourselves at home during your stay here.  My staff has been placed at your disposal.”

Tom stood and faced the king.  “Thank you, your grace,” he said.  “We have been well treated.  Thank you for your hospitality.”  He drew in a deep breath and then continued, “However, we are here on a purpose.  My name is Tom Kingsley.  My father, William Kingsley, asked that I lead this delegation of representatives from both the Curia and the Kingsley Chamber of Commerce.  The council of Crystals in Sisilia has demanded to know what is being done to restore the peace and good government here in Aldo.  More importantly, they want to know that the rioting, and particularly the murder of Bishop Paul that took place five days ago, never happens again!”  Tom paused to allow his words to sink in.   

He turned to face the king and looked directly into the older man’s eyes.  “How can you have let this happen on your watch?  You know the importance Sisilia puts on maintaining the peace.  Insurrection threatens the financial stability of the entire Land of Olivet and it will not be tolerated!  How is it that you allowed the discontent to reach the point of open rioting?  What have you done to find the bishop’s killer?”  He kept his eyes fixed on the king.

The king was surprised at the directness and the forceful delivery of Tom questions.  He began his response, “Well, there has always been some resistance by the poor regarding the level of taxation …”  

Tom interrupted the king in mid-sentence.  “The poor everywhere complain about the level of taxation … Aldo is the only place where it has broken out into riots.  You have to deal with the rebels with a heavy hand to set an example of what happens when they step out of line.  Hang them when you find them; that will deter others from thinking about fighting the system!” Tom exclaimed, passionately!

The king was shocked at the suggestion that his dissenting subjects should be hung.  Returning Tom’s direct gaze, he said matter-of-factly, “Well, if we were to hang all the citizens who complain about the level of taxation, there would be nobody left to pay the tribute Sisilia lives on!”  Tom did not reply; the king took advantage of his silence and continued, “We have had our best investigators working on canvassing the citizens for leads on who killed the bishop.  So far they have spoken to hundreds of people in the area.  Nobody seems to know who the perpetrator is, or why the bishop was the only target.  The bishop was staying at the inn in the square; after the riot, I had my guards patrolling around the inn to ensure the safety of both him and his entourage.  It appears he and his men were attempting a staged and clandestine egress from the back of the inn when he was assailed.  He had instructed his men to go on ahead and wait at the rendezvous point.  It was only when he failed to show up that two of his party returned and found him in the alley; he was already dead.  Nobody in the inn had heard anything.”

“So you haven’t caught the killer as yet,” Tom interjected.  “Maybe your investigators are not up to the task … you will need to keep on top of them until they find whoever it was!”

“Yes, it is definitely something we will keep pursuing,” the king declared.

“So what are you going to do about the rioters?  How are you going to ensure that they continue to pay what they have been levied?” Tom asked, relentlessly.  He wanted to be sure he had all the answers that he would need to report back to his father.

“The ones who were involved in the rioting were some of the poorest of our citizens.  They were frustrated at having to choose between paying their tribute or buying food and fuel for their homes.  Pressure was being put on them by a few of the local priests doing the collection on behalf of the Curia.  We uncovered some reports of citizens being tortured and killed when they couldn’t come up with the required payment.  They saw the opulence of the contingent from the Curia attending our National Week celebrations.  The thought that their hard earned money was being spent so lavishly by the church when they were going hungry acted as the catalyst which sparked the fights,” the king explained.  “My advisors and I have come up with a plan.  We have set up a registry for those who have failed to pay their taxes because they needed their money to buy food and fuel.  Those necessities will now be made available to them from our royal reserves; in order to qualify, they must commit to paying their taxes.”   

Tom considered the king’s proposed solution … it would satisfy First Level’s directive of ensuring the tribute payments continued to flow at the levels set by the government.  “Fine!  I will detail your responses in a report to my father.  We will see if he is satisfied with your answers.”  He stood.  His fellow delegates stood and then followed him out.  The meeting was over.