Chapter fourteen

Chapter fourteen

The man was dressed in a military uniform?! Well that was more surprising than exciting for the young Duke of Anfield as he stared at the visitor his butler had escorted into his office. Philip's amber eyes rested on Nax's entire built physique, studying the man from head to toe with a frown. Anyone could have found that rude, but the older man plastered a smile all along.

Finally, The Duke's eyes travelled to Tiffany as he sighed, "And who might this be?"

The butler was a bit hesitant, nervous as well as afraid. While he studied his master's gaze on him intently, he answered, "Well I found him outside. He asked to see you. To be honest, I am not aware of his identity Your Grace." His last words came with a small bow.

"And you did not see it fit to seek my permission," he retorted, raising his brows teasingly. Tiffany seemed to struggle with his next words as his open mouth shook. When that continued for a time good enough to bore Philip, the Duke sighed, "You may leave."

With secret relief, the butler bowed and stepped out through the office doors, not stopping even once to turn back.

To Nax, the Duke had some attitude for his age.

To Philip, the man had that number of daggers in his clothes that would make anyone slightly uncomfortable. If it was part of the fashion, well maybe he just had a horrible dress sense. "So are you here to kill me," Philip asked while he looked down at the sidearm fixed in a sheath around the man's hip.

Nax laughed, looked down at the gun, then shook his head slowly, "No Your Grace. My name is Nax Brethwell, I'm a general in the military. Also the chief security of the empire of Mareda."

It took some time for the lad to understand this might be something serious. He moved in his seat and joined his hands while he deepened his frown, "Please sit."

I thought you'd never ask, Nax almost said. But he just played along and pulled the chair to the Duke's right, slumping into it because he had been standing for an annoyingly long time.

Philip leaned back in his head seat and raised a finger to his hair, curling and playing with it simply because he had it, brown and shoulder length. Not even giving Nax the time to bounce back, he asked, "How may I help you?

The older man grinned in thought, using just a few seconds of silence to contemplate on the outcome this might bring. The lad did not seem as friendly as he looked.

"On the contrary your Grace," he later sighed and spoke up, "I am here to help you." And that was all he needed to say to get Philip's full attention.

The Duke looked quite interested now, having sensed the seriousness. Still, the frown never left his face. Slowly, he shifted his chair back and pushed himself up.

Nax watched the lad round his massive desk and come to stand right before him, and with one final glare, he leaned on it. The Duke extended both arms in a gesture that gave permission for the older man to explain further.

And that was what he did. Nax continued, "I am aware of your ownership of Kilmarnock."

Just as the interest came, it died there and then after that sentence. Philip sighed and scratched his nose, his eyes closed. Clearly, the suspense this man held was not worth the news.

"If you found out now then you must be living in a hole," Philip started."The entire England knows about it. I hope you do not suppose your knowledge would be the least of my worries."

Why did he have such a tongue for his age, Nax thought. This was obviously going to be more difficult than he had planned. Maybe it was just him underestimating the lad.

He tried to hide his anxiety in a laugh while he looked up at Philip again, "Your Grace. Let's draw a line here. Do you think we are supposed to keep Kilmarnock? I mean look, it's affecting us, positively and otherwise."

Philip Forland reached for the King's letter in the third drawer, wiped it of nothing in particular and placed it before Nax, "I happen to own one of the biggest duchies in Scotland. And it happens to come with disadvantages? Do tell."

That was more of a teaser than a genuine question. Both men knew. Luckily, if there was something Nax had, it was patience. Anybody else would have comfortably left the Duke bald a long time ago. He seemed to love that hair of his a lot.

"Let's start with the crimes," The military man gestured to the window, "theft to be precise. I am certain you must have come across a hungry Scottish who is a refugee here in England stealing to live."

Just then, Monica crossed his mind and he bowed slightly. Philip could agree with that fully. However, Nax did not seem to be finished.

"Then next we go to the immediate effect of overpopulation," the older man went on in a manner that proved he studied in one of those schools where students used gold blackboards, no matter how silly it sounded. "Competition. There is struggle for food, space…power." He made sure to stress the last term, "I have lived long before you and have studied the transition of England before and after Scotland's invasion. There is a marked difference and you know that."

Philip seemed to be thinking…and agreeing. But deep down he did not still get the point of all the facts. Getting up from the table, he turned around and returned to his seat, his eyes fixed on Nax, "In one sentence, what are you getting at. One sentence…" he reminded with a finger raised.

The man grabbed the opportunity and stood from his seat, leaning forward with his hands braced upon the Duke's table, "In one sentence Your Grace, keeping the land brings more damage than letting it go."

For the first time since he had this visitor, he almost smiled, clearly impressed. But then, the sight of the man's hands on his table was just enough to keep the smile in. He glared down at them, then up at Nax's face. And just as wished, the older man got the warning and stepped back from the desk.

Then the smile came. Philip swiveled in his seat and smirked, "We somehow have one mind. But why in bloody hell would I need your help in returning my very own property to Scotland?"

He even cursed!

There was nothing this Duke had done that had not surprised him. From the moment he stepped through that door, he knew he was different. If it was the age, he didn't know. But one thing Nax was sure of was, Philip did not know much about the King of England. And without that knowledge, he needed the help of those who did.

"Dear Duke," the military man looked up, a half grin on his face, "You need my help to return the duchy. Do you know why?"

Philip left the question hanging in the air for a while without answering. He seemed to be finding the whole meeting a little bit offensive as he eyed the man before him. Finally, he chose to reply, "Counsel me." He sighed and gestured for the man to speak.

Nax washed the grin off his face immediately as if it never existed. His next words were a lethal snarl, "Because Your Grace, you don't just go to His Majesty with the seal of ownership and denounce it before him!"

"And why's that," The Duke's question came just after he finished.

Nax felt he needed a seat for this part of the explanation. It may be annoyingly long if Philip tried to play dumb. The older man resumed his pose of demonstration once again while he heaved a sigh of frustration, "You of all people should know what Kilmarnock is made of, gold. Gold so pure and abundant it could take any nation to glory. Consequently Your Grace, everybody wants it, those who can handle it and those who can't. You need protection over the seal of ownership. You need allies, and support from other high post men. I will gladly be the first of your list."

Philip Forland could have sworn this man was one of the best he'd seen. However, he vowed to himself not to let the man get a smile out of him. He still studied the man with amazement. But as painfully as Nax had feared, Philip chose to play dumb, "In that case, I can easily write to the King and he gives Kilmarnock back to Scotland."

And there came the laugh. The laugh an old man gave a naive little child when he said something foolish. Even he knew that was offensive. The difference is, this time, he didn't care, "King Louis would never take the duchy from you and return it to Scotland."

"Why," the lad frowned and adjusted in his seat.

Nax leaned something else. This Duke had not been briefed on the whole feud between Scotland and England. Not even a bit, "Your Grace, do you happen to know that your father and the King had a common adversary, Maitland. And they worked together to take everything from him, even when they were in two different countries. They were successful yes and now Kilmarnock is a vast latch of soil void of life."

From the frown on his face, that was new information to Philip. His lips shaped words that could not be voiced. However, Nax understood them as, "My father?!"

He nodded in response, now pleased the Duke was finally listening. And when the Duke was listening, it meant he had to take full advantage, "Your father and the King took everything away from Maitland, and that same King gave everything to Forland. Obviously, he won't give it back, and that's where persuasion comes in."

He stretched both arms forth in a manner hidden with pride. Then he gestured to himself, "That is also where I come into the picture as the Chief soldier of the army. I know people."

Philip's earlier glower had now been softened to something less painful. However, disappointment filled up his entire features. Almost suddenly, he frowned and looked at the man seated before him, "Why are you helping me?"

Nax laughed. That was enough to let him know he had succeeded in persuading the lad before him.

"Believe it or not young Duke," his mouth twisted in a grin, "I have a lot to gain."