Hannis Arc thought that one ruled through fear. Ludwig understood that, ultimately, one ruled people only with their consent. Through the choices he would shape and offer them, they would embrace his rule.
It mattered not to Ludwig where that process started. Ruling the citadel, Saavedra, and Fajin Province was a perfectly satisfactory place to start. It was too small for the likes of Hannis Arc to bother with, or even to think about.
But one day, people would think about it, and then they would wish they had bothered.
In his position as abbot, Ludwig had extracted prophecies and passed important ones along to Hannis Arc at the citadel—the ones he wanted Hannis Arc to see, anyway. Hannis Arc was a pompous ass. He had no idea that Ludwig Dreier was spoon-feeding him what Dreier wanted him to know.
By the way the people on the streets were staring at him, Ludwig realized that the time had come for a new wardrobe, one more befitting his new importance. He was a careful man and didn’t make a move without knowing the outcome before he started. He never started a fight unless he knew he could win.
Now it was time to start. It was time to establish rule over his new foothold.
Hannis Arc had done him a considerable favor by abandoning the citadel and leaving him the beginnings of an armed force. As powerful as his occult power might be, he was still only one man. He needed protection and men to watch his back while he devoted himself to greater things.
Ludwig Dreier turned his horse up the cobbled main road toward the Fajin garrison headquarters and the citadel beyond that those soldiers protected.
CHAPTER
35
As Ludwig walked his horse between the gates and into the cobblestone square outside the Fajin garrison he got his first close glimpse of the citadel higher up above them. Erika rode beside him, half a length behind, his ever-present protection. For now, his only protection. He would soon have more.
He was pleased to see that the troops had been alerted to his approach and had already set up massive defensive positions. That was the kind of response he would want to defend himself against non-gifted threats.
Since these men knew him, it was a rather respectful show of arms. The soldiers were all out in the open, standing in formation. The slick, wet cobblestone reflected the neat array of lances held out at a uniform angle, but with their butts resting on the ground. It was a cautious defensive line, but he was at least glad to see that they were trusting of no one, not even the bishop’s abbot, probably the highest-ranking person in Fajin Province after the bishop himself.
Of course, Hannis Arc never favored other people holding positions of power. Hannis Arc viewed his talents as sufficient to rule Fajin Province without the need of other high-ranking officials. He thought such powerful people might cause him trouble. He tolerated his abbot because Ludwig was smart enough to make himself seem insignificant.
To either side as they rode in, men in brown tunics lined the way into the square. In the square beyond the men lining the road were formations of men set in ranks at an angle designed to funnel the visitors to a central point of the square.
The men in the front row of those ranks wore chain mail. Their swords remained sheathed but at the ready. The second row of men behind them held the angled lances. On one knee in front of the men in chain mail were the archers, arrows nocked but strings not drawn back.
All of the preparations were protective stances, ready but not openly threatening or aggressive to the visitor. The formations were also designed to place the visitors in the center of the square where they could swiftly be surrounded if necessary, with any route of escape cut off.
It was also meant to be a clear signal that any unwelcome actions—from anyone—would not be tolerated.
Officers blocked the open center of the funnel formation leading to the road beyond that went the rest of the way up to the citadel. Since the officers knew him, they stood openly in the key position to block him. They probably thought it would be better if commanding officers turned him away, rather than a lowly foot soldier. Had it been a threat rather than Bishop Arc’s abbot, the opening would be totally closed off and the officers would likely have been somewhere in the rear, directing the men at turning away or eliminating the threat.
Beyond the ranks of soldiers in the square, tiered terraces, each with shaggy olive trees, stepped up the rising hillside toward the grounds around the citadel at the top. It was an attempt at an imposing entrance to the seat of power in the sorry little land of Fajin Province. These men were protecting that pathetic seat of power, as if it were a great prize.
Ludwig smiled. In this case, it just so happened that from now on it was going to be just that.
The four men of rank stood almost shoulder-to-shoulder blocking the opening flanked by men with lances, swords, and bows at the ready. Since Bishop Arc had likely left instructions that no one was to enter the citadel in his absence, these men intended to guard the crown jewel of Saavedra.