After a knock on the door, Neasa entered the office of the Archduchess of Hendrake to find, as usual, Lyntra seated behind the big desk, Ursula seated behind another desk to the side, and Heiðrún languishing on the sofa.
Neasa announced “Boss, Lintra is here.”
“This’ll be fun,” muttered Ursula, with absolutely no sense of fun in her voice whatsoever.
“You’d better wheel her in,” said Lyntra.
“Err. She’s not coming in,” replied Neasa. “She’s standing out in the middle of the courtyard with Aðalbjörg and some guy in a hood, and most of the House standing around watching.”
“What the fuck?” from Lyntra.
“Not a good start” from Heiðrún.
“I don’t like how today feels, all of a sudden,” from Ursula.
“We knew this was coming,” said Lyntra. “Mandor wasn’t going to just give us a free pass.”
Ursula came back with “Mandor’s not the problem. I don’t know who that guy is. I can’t see him properly.”
“Neasa – all hands on deck. The Cadre will see Lintra as one,” said Lyntra
“Yes, Boss.” replied Neasa, as she went to summon the Ten.
Ten warriors emerged from the Hendrake headquarters building to find the courtyard in front of it full. The entirety of the blooded House seemed to be in attendance, along with many more of the officer corps and a good number of guests. Standing behind one of a pair of wooden stools were Lintra the Elder, her daughter Aðalbjörg, and a male hooded figure. All three clearly wearing ceremonial katanas. The kind of ceremonial katanas that can take a head off in one swipe.
“Are we really going to do this out here?” asked Lyntra.
“Hendrakes do not do deals to decide the fate of their House in back rooms behind closed doors,” said Lintra. “Hendrakes do deals in the open, and in the clear light of day, where the House can see and hear the future their leaders will call them to. Hendrakes do deals that their House can believe in. Hendrakes do deals where their fighters can see for themselves that their leaders believe in the course they steer, so that they can believe that their leaders will be there beside them to the end.”
“Fine.” replied Lyntra. She continued with a sneer “Stools? Are your legs bothering you Grandmother?”
“On the contrary, as a courtesy to you I didn’t want the weight of these events to be too much for your young legs to bear.” Lintra’s voice had the exact same sneering tone..
“Is that so?” said Lyntra, and with the briefest flash of magic and sorcery the stools burst into flames and quickly reduced to ash.
“I guess that’s no stools then,” observed Lintra.
“So, is this the point where you make your pathetic plea to the warriors of Hendrake to forsake their House and their name and follow you back to Thelbane to become attack dogs again for Mandor and Hera?” Lyntra asked, with the weight of her scorn pulsing palpably against all present. How could they begin to even consider leaving House Hendrake to return to Thelbane?
“Not at all,” replied Lintra. “This is the point where you resign your stewardship of my House back to me, and beg that I will support you with warriors and resources so that you can continue your private war with half a chance of winning it, while Hendrake continues to defend and prosecute the policies and desires of the Dragon Throne of Thelbane.” The weight of the argument swung right back again. How could they have left Thelbane defenceless.
“You are a relic,” shouted Lyntra. “You died, and your House passed to your heir. And then she died and the House passed to me. If you wish to challenge me, then prepare yourself to die again. You know you cannot beat me.”
“I do not need to beat you, child,” said Lintra triumphantly. “Allow me to introduce my champion.” At this point the man threw back his hood and with a collective gasp, the whole of House Hendrake looked upon the face of Hendrake the Warrior.
“Bugger!” was heard to come from one of the Cadre. For many years the debate would rage as to which of them said it.
Hendrake spoke with a deep and resounding voice. “When my Bellissa fell, I championed my daughter Lintra as she inherited her mother’s House, with a reduced title meant to insult her from a Dragon with the face of an Ass. Nothing has changed. Today my daughter stands, and I stand as her Champion. The title is restored to the full grandeur that my wife held. And you well know what will happen if you make me fight you!”
Silence fell across the whole square. Lyntra and Hendrake locked eyes, as she assessed him to determine the truth of his words. Minutes stretched out.
“Archduchess Lintra. Hendrake is yours. There will be no begging today. I am your granddaughter. I am your heir. The fight my Cadre have fought all our lives still needs fighting. That enemy will see Thelbane in smoking ruins just as much as anywhere else. We will fight them as Hendrakes or we will fight them anyway. But as years turn to centuries, either we will die fighting them, or the day may once again come when I lead Hendrake to that battle. It will be what it will be. We await your orders.” Lyntra stated.
“Carry on!” said Lintra, and the Hendrake crowd erupted in cheers.
“Now, we go inside and talk,” Lintra said to the Cadre, as she strode into the Hendrake headquarters building for the first time since the last days of the Patternfall war, with Aðalbjörg and Hendrake the Warrior falling in behind her.