In Which Octavius Recalls Where He Is

September 8, 1180

"No, don't tell me: I know you wanted to take a week off and I have absolutely no problem with that. And Florian had no problem reminding me. But something came up and now here I am, about to give you the best damn news you've heard in a hell of a long time."

Octavius lowered his quill and instead took in hand the edge of the desk, pushing himself back and his desk chair with him. He was not the sort of man who took breaks willy-nilly. He'd spent the day after Jeda's unfortunate nuptials in conference with his knights, completely redrawing estate boundaries as a result of some petty dispute. While Sparron had been recovering from his attempt on his own life, Octavius had once again been in the study, this time with the tax collectors, going through the books and drawing up the required audits. Unable to sleep after Holladrin's funeral, he'd made the necessary adjustments to all of his servants' schedules, taking into account three new kitchen workers, four new guards, and two maids on the verge of maternity leave. Even after the death of Pandora, Holladrin's eldest and the only child Octavius had thus far been dealt the pain of losing, he had busied himself--not only with work, but with Pandora's little daughter, all he had left of her.

So when he said he wanted to take a week off, he meant he wanted to take a week off. And God damn it--he would. "It had better be."

"It is." Severin practically bounced at the confirmation, giddy as a teenage boy who'd just been granted his first glimpse of a bare bosom. If he was here to announce that he was about to be a grandfather again, all he'd be getting for his trouble was a fist to the teeth. "You know how Roderick stuck us with that fool's errand of finding a captain for his first ship?"

Of course he remembered--and he failed to see what was so amusing. "His first ship for a navy in a sea we don't even border, based in a country that thinks we're a joke, when no one with any sense for worthy conquests can see the point of attacking us anyway? As if I could forget when half the kingdom is still in a laughing fit over it."

"And the other half can't stay sober long enough to see what's so funny!" He half-expected his friend to clap at his own joke. If he hadn't known Severin for the more depressive sort of drunk, Octavius might have suspected he'd had a little too much himself. "But would you believe it? Nora found the man."

Octavius's fingers itched to pick up the quill again. Not that this particular letter to King Oswald was urgent, but surely it was a better use of time than this. "I hate to disappoint you, but that's not actually the best news I've heard in a long time."

"That's because I haven't gotten to the good part yet." Severin edged a little closer, spring in his boots and gleam in his eye as he stared down with a grin. Octavius squinted; he swore he could see stray grey hairs reverting to black. "He's a pirate."

Octavius blinked. "A pirate."

"A natural scallywag. And the ship he'll be captaining? He's already sailed it. He commandeered it when he broke out of prison."

Of course he had. Why not? This was Naroni, after all. "So, you think putting known criminals in positions of military power makes me happy."

"Well, that's not quite all." ...Of course it wasn't. "I've met with the man. Turns out he's number one on Devidra's wanted list, but he's been itching for the sea again. So he's agreed that he won't cause either of us any trouble as long as he's placed under Roderick's official protection; that way, Devidra can't lay a finger on him even if he dances naked in front of her."

"And why would Roderick give his official protection to a pirate?"

"Roderick doesn't have to know he's a pirate! We'll feed him some cock-and-bull story about some youthful drunken hi-jinx that landed him in a tight spot; given how Roderick ended up running this ass-crack of a kingdom in the first place, he'll have to empathize."

"Perhaps." Assuming, of course, that Roderick didn't lack the cognitive capacity for empathy. But that was hardly the most pressing problem. "But internationally, wouldn't that make us the idiots who unwittingly made a pirate a military officer?"

Grin not going anywhere, Severin shook his head. "No, that makes Roderick the idiot who unwittingly made a pirate a military officer, and good luck finding a foreign dignitary who wouldn't believe that of him. But suppose a few carefully-selected birdies tell a few more carefully-selected birdies what really happened here..."

Octavius forced himself to his feet. It figured that Severin would let slip something downright mad just when he was finally making sense. "Out of the question. It would doubtlessly get back to Roderick."

"As if Roderick would be humble enough to believe his lords would do something like that, or clever enough to puzzle out any possible reason we could have for doing so. Should he not outright dismiss it as some mean-spirited rumor, all we have to do is ask him to present the logic and he'll have to admit to our innocence."

"Uh-huh." His eye widened as the brow above it folded to an arch. "And just what logic would Roderick not be presenting?"

"That you and I, my friend, are ruthless motherfuckers who will go so far as to disproportionately punish our own king for no crime apparent to any other party."

Well, Dovia wouldn't buy it; anyone there who knew either of them wouldn't believe it for a minute. But perhaps it had a shot elsewhere. Hell, half of Spain already believed Severin to be a mad cross-burning warlock thanks to one Sir Domingo. But... "Um. Why do we want this?"

"Well, the more practical explanation would be to show the rest of the world that not every lord in Naroni is as much of a patsy as its king. The other reason, for all it can never be known to anyone else, is that should the worst happen to good old stupid Roderick--" Octavius scowled on reflex. Little though he cared for Roderick, any thought of 'King Ietrin' was enough to make him wish the fool made it well past his two-hundredth birthday. "--I think Ietrin may see just enough logic in the thought to be wary of us. He won't bother to investigate, of course, lest anyone including his own self see him for the paranoid lunatic he is, but if he suspects us to be willing to pull such a stunt on our own king..." Severin crossed his arms in smug satisfaction. "Well. Perhaps he'll think twice about toeing any lines we see fit to draw."

It was an appealing idea, even if not quite to the extent of pushing that pompous ass-rag off a cliff. And it was a stupid, hole-ridden plan.

And this was Naroni. Around these parts, stupid, hole-ridden plans statistically had the highest chance of going off without a hitch. "So, when do I get to meet this pirate?"

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