Lykourgos III: A Crown of Thorns
The Tenth Day of the Third Moon, 873 AD.
Anaria, Western Teleytaios, Klironomea.
Lykourgos grimaced as he dropped his sword to the ground, slumping down and yielding to his brother once more.
"Okay, okay, you win. Again."
Rhema grinned, offering a hand to his brother as Lykourgos allowed himself to be pulled back to his feet. Exercising himself back to health had not been kind to his energy, and yet at the same time he strangely felt more alive than he had in a long while. Getting back into swordplay and footwork was, in his opinion, doing wonders for the muscles in his back and limbs. Practicing with his brother meant that he was quickly getting back on the top of his game, though admittedly Rhema consistently won their bouts. Oh, certainly, Rhema was the better of the two of them anyway, but he was winning more than he might otherwise have if Lykourgos was feeling hale and hearty. He wasn't worried though; this gave him a more than well-needed excuse to spend time with his brother doing something that the both of them enjoyed, the two of them ending every training session with a number of bruises and dripping with sweat.
Nasos hadn't exactly been thrilled when he'd started sparring again, for this was more than a little ahead of schedule, but so long as Lyk didn't completely over-exert himself there was little to fear in terms of bodily harm.
"Time for another bout?"
Lykourgos smiled at his brother, who had taken full advantage of his desire to get fighting fit once more by getting in as much sparring as he could.
"No, not at the moment I'm afraid. You've surely had your fill of beating me by now, haven't you?"
His brother laughed at that as though it were the funniest thing he'd ever heard.
"Me? Get tired of sparring with you? Come off it, you know I'd never! Besides, it's probably for the best; weren't you meant to be meeting with Eli sometime soon?"
Lykourgos raised an eyebrow at his brother.
"Eli? That's rather informal. Have you two grown closer since then, you know, seeing as he lets you call him 'Eli'?"
Rhema snorted.
"Of course not. I do a lot more work with him now, but he's still your loyal friend and not mine. I just call him that 'cause I really don't care if it annoys him or not. What is it that the two of you are meeting about anyway?"
Lykourgos' smile faltered for a split second before falling back into place.
"Nothing for you to be worried about, that much I can assure you."
"Well, duh. Otherwise I'd have heard about it in the inner council meeting. You slow today or something?"
Lykourgos shook his head in exasperation while grinning. It felt good to be able to return to a sense of normalcy after everything that had happened recently, even if that 'normal' consisted of his brother playfully insulting him whilst they tried to beat the shit out of each other.
"Angels, how did you all survive without me?"
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"Eli, how have you been?"
The man daintily placed the back of a gloved hand to his forehead.
"Oh, miserable! I've been sat here waiting for, what, twenty minutes? Twenty minutes and you didn't deign to show yourself before me!"
The prince rolled his eyes at his friend's dramatics, which at this point were entirely expected.
"I thought you might appreciate it if I bathed quickly before meeting you, given that my clothes were sodden with sweat. Still, I guess we'd better get started; Angels forbid I keep you any longer than the twenty minutes you've been here already."
There was a brief and tense silence as the two of them sat down at the table. They both knew exactly what they were to be discussing, and both of them knew that whilst Lykourgos did not exactly enjoy overseeing this it was nonetheless one of the most important aspects of rulership.
Wetwork. Bloody, sinful wetwork. Lykourgos didn't like this part of ruling, but it was an inalienable part of the deal for maintaining power. No leader, be they from the farthest reaches of the north or the most distant ruins of the south, could ever maintain control over so vast a realm without the occasional bout of distasteful actions. Not even the sort of wetwork that dealt with killing people that really deserved death either, such as the nobles. No, this was to deal with other emergent issues.
The silence stretched on for a few seconds as Lykourgos stared at the table, mentally readying himself to detach the things he was about to order done from the person he was in his day to day life. He needed to, or he would drive himself mad. That was another lesson the late Lord Brathaxe had taught him during his wardship; there will always be daggers in the night for a prince, and there will always be daggers in the night for a bastard. He needed to make sure he was one step ahead of the plots and schemes of those who wished him harm, and if push came to shove, if no amount of subtle manoeuvring or under-table threats would get your opponents to cease their actions...
Well, you needed to be direct sometimes. Brutally direct. That was just politics.
"We'd better get started. What seem to be the prevailing issues at the moment?"
Elikoidi smirked at him a little, probably glad to be getting on with things.
"The nobles are still being held in the barracks, as per your orders. Daniil and his men have been as good as their word in keeping them in place, loyal little man that he is. That little stunt you pulled with him was brilliant; having now served three masters there's no-one on the continent who would trust him if he turned his cloak again. He's bound to you as surely as the sun is bound to the sky."
Lykourgos smiled wryly.
"Indeed he is. Tell me, have any nobles in particular given him trouble?"
"Lady Ahrgo has been reaching out to some of her contacts amongst the merchant classes these last few weeks. There may be some sort of attempted rescue mission soon enough."
"I see. Send a few of your rats to tell these merchant contacts that the crown thanks them for their services, and that should they maintain their loyalties a slew of city charters will soon be granted across the country. So long as they do nothing to rock the boat, of course."
Elikoidi raised an eyebrow at him.
"That would likely work, yes. I don't know of a single merchant who would be willing to risk losing such lucrative prospects just to get some noblewoman to safety. You were going to do that anyway, were you not?"
"Yes, but they don't know that. Anyone apart from the nobles I should be aware of?"
Elikoidi grinned at his remark, but sobered a little as the conversation carried on.
"The conclave of patriarchs is continuing to rail against you because they preferred your sister. Not only that but your brother killed the head of their congregation, so you can imagine they're none too keen on him remaining unpunished."
"I see. Who is it that now heads the conclave?"
The dead skin around his friend's mouth was pulled taut as the grin took on a far more predatory aspect, and when he answered Lykourgos realised why.
"Patriarch Olyver."
Lykourgos returned the grin. Oh, this was almost too perfect!
"Remind me, old friend," he started, "is that not the same Patriarch who dabbled with the teachings of the Silverian Church when he was an Abbot?"
"The very same. Do you think perhaps it is time to share this information with the world?"
Lykourgos gave his friend a playfully dismissive look.
"No, nothing so drastic! Perhaps something more along the lines of a drafted letter to him hinting at a few things. After all, such knowledge could cut short a promising liturgical career if it got our. Lets just make sure he's on our side instead. Are there any other issues?"
Elikoidi nodded at him.
"House Blackoak and its cadet branches are beginning to amass their forces along our border. Carthos and Ousdaal have been used as our first line of defence against Owkrestan attacks for centuries, but even if they weren't charred ruins they were not built to withstand a force of this size."
"Do we have any knowledge of their leaders?"
"Command of soldiers in the field seems to have gone to Lord Tyros, head of the Miststone Hill branch of house Blackoak. He's certainly the most competent and loyal man the head of the Blackoak family has at his beck and call."
Lykourgos nodded.
"I see."
He drummed his fingers on the edge of the table a few times, his other hand rubbing his jaw as he thought. When he spoke his voice was somewhere between flat and dangerously cold.
"Perhaps we ought to kill him."
Elikoidi smiled grimly back at him.
"I will put the wheels in motion. I have a man perfectly suited for a job like this; he'll have more than one idea to rid you of this problem. You are not concerned of sparking a war with this action?"
He huffed out a dark laugh at his friend.
"Come now, we both know house Blackoak is rallying for war against us anyway. Better to spark it by killing the greatest commander amongst the foemen than allow Lord Aertax to order his kinsman forwards from the comfort of Blacktree Hall. Give the order, let it be done. Don't tell me who you're sending to do it, don't tell me where or when he'll do it. I've learned enough from our time together to gather that it's generally safer if I don't know the specifics. Just make sure it happens and that it's clean and quick. It will likely buy us a little more time to prepare as the foe reorganises its forces. In that time we can see if we can't also pressure the church into lending us their own forces when we blackmail Patriarch Olyver."
Elikoidi smirked at Lykourgos again, clearly enjoying the fact that he was allowing the darker side of politics to shine through his person once more.
"Well, that can certainly be arranged. I'm glad to see you've learned to be a little more ruthless, even if it took a stabbing to set your mind on the right course. How many are going to die out of the nobles we've got locked away? Half?"
Lykourgos sighed a little, his smile faltering slightly. He didn't get any enjoyment from this, but then... well, he'd killed dozens in battle, why was this any different? He nodded once at his friend, ignoring the proffered question about the upcoming executions.
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"I now know how much hatred some people can hold within them. I saw it when I looked into Isen's eyes, and I've learned from it."
If Elikoidi was annoyed by him dodging the question like that then it was never made clear by his face nor voice, and so Lykourgos thought himself lucky that the issue had not been pressed. He doubted his friend would have liked the answer.
"I'm glad. I don't want you to end up like that again."
Lykourgos smiled a little at his friend, but not in agreement. He smiled not because he'd learned how spiteful others could be, but because Elikoidi didn't seem to realise that Lykourgos now knew just how ruthless he could be if push came to shove.
If Eli wants me to act ruthless, well, there's plenty of ruthlessness coming up.
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He was beginning to regain his lost weight, the muscle returning in places. He was also no longer as tired anymore, or rather he was only as tired as he normally was. The work of a ruler was never done, after all.
"Ilias? How do I look?"
The young cupbearer looked him up and down appraisingly.
"Well enough to be seen once more, I'd say. If I were still on the street and I saw you like this I'd probably not look twice at how thin you are, but even if you are still a little thin you're far from looking weak. In my own personal opinion that is, your Grace. That was why you were asking, wasn't it?"
Lykourgos smiled, ruffling the servant's hair.
"Right in one. There's an important public event coming up later today, and I want to make sure I'm at least presentable."
Ilias nodded at him, seemingly understanding where he was coming from.
"Well, if it's for what I think you're on about then I don't see you holding centre-stage for long, no offense of course your Grace. Again, assuming I'm not wrong in what I think you're on about, the justice you hand out will be the focal point of what's to happen. Will you be needing anything whilst you're out there, your Grace? I know the various members of the council as well as Dreamwulf will be there, but will you be requiring anything of me?"
Lykourgos tilted his head a little in thought.
"No. No, I don't think so. That said however, will you not want to watch as justice is passed? If you lived in the northern district then you surely have wished for what is to come at some point in your life."
Ilias made a so-so motion with his hands as he bobbed his head from side to side.
"Maybe a little. I think... I think I might like to watch it, when push comes to shove. If your Grace would keep me at your side throughout the event then I would be most grateful."
Lykourgos grinned and ruffled the lad's hair again.
"Consider it done."
He stopped and stretched a little, one or two joints popping as he winced.
"Ah, that's going to take a little getting used to. Hopefully that stops happening so frequently as time passes, because that's really rather annoying. In all my time asleep I'd almost forgotten how tired the business of ruling made me."
"Tired, your Grace?"
Lykourgos nodded at Ilias, the young cupbearer clearly confused.
"Forgive me for speaking out of turn, your Grace, and I know I have been wrong on this subject for quite some time, but I was always under the impression that... well, that being a prince or a lord was easy. That you didn't have to do any work and that everything and everyone just lined up for your approval before you went back to feasting and enjoying life."
Lykourgos smiled bitterly at his servant.
"In many ways you aren't wrong. If I so desired I could live my life like that from this day until the day of my death, whenever that may be, but I will not. The people being kept prisoner out in the barracks, the nobles, they're the ones who lived like that. That's why I hate them. They're content to sit there and do nothing while their people starve and wither, and I just... I don't understand how they can do that. I make no claim to having a harder life than the poor, of course I don't, but there are hardships of their own that should come as a part of ruling. Of leading."
"You were raised north of the Einar," Ilias said, as though that explained everything, "they were always better than most, your Grace. Leaders, not bosses. If you'd been raised in the capital then you'd not have learned to rule from them."
Lykourgos pondered this for a moment.
"A fair point. The northern lords are gone now though, and as such the only men and women in those barracks are the worst sort. I don't intend to let them go unpunished for much longer."
Ilias nodded with great sincerity.
"I'm glad to hear that, your Grace. I know I'm not worth much, but for what little it is worth I'll support you no matter what. Don't you foresee any consequences for what you're to do later today though? I don't pretend to understand diplomacy, but this seems a rather... I don't know the right word, but I can't see everyone abroad just accepting this judgement without comment."
Lykourgos snorted derisively.
"Good. I hope there are diplomatic consequences. Let them see what happens to indolent lords and cruel masters. Let them see what happens to those who cross our cause. Let their people take heart in the knowledge that their own lords are not unassailable. We will endure, come what may. We will endure."
Ilias nodded at him again.
"So you say, your Grace. Will you be wanting your armour or courtly clothes?"
"Armour. It should help cover how thin I am, for the most part. It will also send the people a message."
"And what message would that be, your Grace?"
Lykourgos turned and smiled down at his cupbearer.
"That our war is not yet over, Ilias. That there are still foemen out there who would tear down our kingdom. Our war is not yet over, and it will not be over until seven are forged into one. Our armies have more than a thousand miles more to march, and if that is the case then how can we be at peace?"
Ilias looked up at him again with a loyalty so total that Lykourgos was unsure what exactly he'd done to earn it. The look combined fear and elation, and for a brief moment Lykourgos realised that, to this child, he was worth more than the Angels themselves.
"If that is your will, your Grace, then I will do everything I can to help you. I promise. I'll march with you the thousand miles and more, if you wish it. I promise."
The prince smiled widely once more. Such hero-worship did make him a little uncomfortable, but when it came from so pure a place... well, how could he feel any way other than grateful?
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"Lieutenant Daniil. It's time."
"Yes your Grace. I'll have the prisoners brought to the square at once."
Lykourgos nodded at the man, who bowed and then walked off barking orders at his men. If nothing else he now felt fit enough to pass judgement over the nobles, and so he had summoned his retainers and demanded they get on with this gruesome task. Elikoidi and Romanos stood by his side, as did the rest of the inner council. Every one of them knew what was to come, though if any of them knew the specifics they'd probably try and stop him. He wasn't going to let that happen; he'd waited four years for his vengeance, and he wouldn't be passing it up now when it was within reach.
Walking out onto the main square before the palatial complex, within the very heart of the eastern district, some two-score sullen faces were being led out by grim-faced guardsmen. Several looked around almost feverishly, as though hoping to see a friendly face that would free them in the crowd. If so, they must have been sorely disappointed. The people here knew the 'nobles' all too well, especially since they'd spent the last four years living within the capital and flaunting their privileges over them. The people here knew nobles very, very well indeed. Their recent stunt of burning the followers of Hydran's Cult alive on the docks could not have won them any favours with the masses.
More than one of the dispossessed lords and ladies had been gagged with cloth and for that Lykourgos was thankful, for when they reached the raised platform above the square and saw the set of gallows that awaited them more than one let out a panicked exclamation. Eight scaffolds had been prepared specifically for this day, and had sat unused and unattended for months now. Well, now they were going to be used. Now they would be fed.
"People of Anaria! Of Teleytaios! Once I relieved this city from siege, only for my father and sister to forgive those who made you starve, who bade you kneel and scrape before them! Here they stand before you, the last of the corrupt and wicked! Justice has returned to the realm of house Sperakos, but we must not be idle! Wherever corruption takes root, so too must it be opposed! Here stand the last great criminals of our fair land; what do we say to them?"
He paused for a moment, the crowd letting out a slew of insults and shouted threats at the bound nobles who stood before the gallows. This was the moment he'd waited for for half a decade. This was what he was always meant to do.
"Then by the power I wield as the sovereign of this land, with the support of the people whom I rule over, I accuse the assembled of high treason and sentence them to be hanged by the neck until dead!"
A raucous cheer went up from the crowd, and Lykourgos smiled as the crowd of cheering, bloodthirsty lowborns hailed him. They seemed to rather enjoy seeing a ruler with their blood in his veins cut out the festering rot from the realm. Every person in that crowd, he knew, must have lost a friend, a family member, a livelihood, to the schemes and skirmishes of the men and women behind him. No longer would that be an issue.
The first eight nobles fell through the gallows with a 'chunk' sound, and Lykourgos just about noticed the worry on the faces of Romanos and Elikoidi. What the other members of his council thought he didn't know, save his brother. Rhema and Ilias were both watching on with a mixture of contempt and elation on their faces, but as for himself?
He just stared impassively onwards as the next group were led up the steps to the gallows by his grim-faced guards. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and soaked in the bloodthirsty cheers of the crowd, who it seemed had now taken to hailing him 'the Just!'. He reopened them and held out his arms above him, as though he meant to embrace the crowd.
"As long as I am your prince, your king, you shall know this: your struggles are mine, your hunger is mine, and my victories are yours! Never again will the craven and the unworthy rule over this land!"
At that there was a fresh bout of cheering, the second set of nobles falling through the gallows with a really rather satisfying noise. Some who were led to their deaths maintained dignity, some looked remorseful, others scared or angry, but all were led to their deaths nonetheless. Elikoidi and Romanos walked up to him as casually as they could, faces strained.
"Your Grace, a word if you please."
Lykourgos looked over at Daniil and nodded, gesturing for him to continue with the executions. He then signalled Dreamwulf and Eros to fall in behind him with a quiet word, and followed his two friends back into the palace.
When they were back inside and away from the raucous cheering the two of them all but pulled him into a chamber for a private audience, both clearly a little unsettled by what had just happened. Well, Romanos looked unsettled anyway. Lykourgos suspected that, whilst the Grandmaster might have had a few reservations about the complete eradication of the Teleytaian nobility on moral grounds, Elikoidi was likely to be both pleased that the buggers had got what was coming to them and annoyed from a far more pragmatic lens.
"Your Grace, what the fuck was that? That's forty people you've just sentenced to hang out there."
"It isn't like they're innocent, Eli. You know that better than most."
There was a brief but oh-so-noticeable bitter smile that came across his scarred friend's face at that, but it was gone in a moment.
"No, this isn't about anything like that; I know they're guilty, and a part of me hoped that you'd lose your fucking mind and order them all killed, but as your friend and advisor I need you to know this could backfire spectacularly."
Romanos nodded solemnly, breaking in with his own opinions.
"Whilst I've always hated those self-aggrandising lordlings, you need to understand that this is not a good look for you. Where people outside the capital before looked to you with a cautious hope, now they will simply look at you with a cautious fear."
Lykourgos nodded stiffly.
"Then we will work to prove those fears unfounded. There is much work to be done, and I don't believe for a second that Lord Blackoak will just wait for me to-"
"Lord Blackoak? Your Grace, if you think that the tensions along our south-eastern border are our main concern at this precise moment then you're very wrong; as of right now I'm much more interested in finding out whether or not you've lost your fucking mind!"
"Lost my mind? Why would I have lost my mind?"
"What Master Elikoidi means to say is," Romanos broke in once more, continuing from where Elikoidi had left off, "that you were unconscious for quite some time and then woke up through not entirely mundane means. How do we know that you're still the same person that led us to victory three months ago?"
The prince looked between his two friends, confused.
"I don't understand, I've never hidden my desire to wipe out what was left of the nobles. I even proclaimed that very fact when I seized the capital from my late sister. Why do you begin to doubt me now?"
"Because normally you have enough foresight to realise that what you want isn't always what you should do. Because we assumed that you'd kill perhaps half of them and exile the rest in a display of mercy. We thought we knew what you'd do."
Lykourgos threw his hands up in the air in frustration.
"I cannot control what you think! If you had concerns then why not talk to me! Why not tell me in advance!"
"You knew we would not agree to this! This was wrong, Lyk!"
Lykourgos turned to Elikoidi, raising an incredulous eyebrow at the man's words.
"Weren't we just talking about killing a foreign Lord earlier today?"
Elikoidi shook his head in frustration, some of the annoyance he clearly felt leaking into his voice.
"That's one thing, but killing a full two-score of your own dispossessed nobles will hit us very hard diplomatically. I couldn't care a whit for the men and women you just had killed, but it'll make your job a lot more difficult moving forwards."
"Not to mention the discontent amongst those who still bore loyalties to the nobles. This action won't be free from repercussions, your Grace."
Lykourgos closed his eyes and sighed. This was gonna be a long night.