Lykourgos X: Honeyed Words
The Ninth Day of the Ninth Moon, 873 AD.
Stagspring, Central Owkrestos, Klironomea.
The hour was growing late, and still the prince trudged on through an endless tide of dull work. If he didn't know any better he'd say that the Owkrestans were piling on all the mundane work they could in the hopes that he'd throw his hands up in frustration, shout "Fuck it!" at the top of his lungs, and just go home. He knew better though; he had the clerks and administrators of this realm by the balls, and none of them were particularly keen to act against him. He hadn't been harsh with them, far from it in all honesty, but it was clear that the people here were still getting used to their new ruler. He didn't blame them, for it often took years for the worst of the unrest to die down and potentially generations for people to truly accept their new overlords, but it did make his life a mite annoying at times. Ah well, when he filed away the right papers and wrote the missive that would exempt his new subjects from taxes for two years they'd probably start to care for him a bit more. Well, enough to avoid rising in rebellion against him anyway. That was the main thing he wanted to avoid, for a rebellion fought on Owkrestan terms would be an absolute nightmare to slog through.
One way to ensure long-term dominance of Owkrestos, and the rest of Klironomea when the time came for that matter, could be had in his grip over religion. The various cults and sects of the Church of the First Saint were organised into a labyrinth of ranks and hierarchies all running parallel to each other, and don't even get him started on the inefficiencies of the lands under their purview. It wasn't that the church didn't know how to turn a profit with their lands, for they most certainly did, but rather the fact that the lands they held were disparate and small in scale; instead of a few counties under their control across his kingdom they held thousands of tiny scraps and patches of land that made knowing exactly who was to tax which region hell. If he could simplify those issues then he'd be able to cement his kingdom as a true power, built to last through the ages.
The trouble was, that required working with the Church rather than against them. Lykourgos wasn't one for compromise, nor was he particularly pleased to have to treat with his rivals and fellow powerbrokers as an equal, but there was no way he'd be able to hold this over the Church and have them accept it without some serious negotiating. No matter how much blackmail he had over Patriarch Olyver, the man wouldn't agree to such a thing.
Or would he? Maybe he wouldn't accept it all at once, but if Lykourgos could offer the man some support and an increase in his influence over the Conclave and Church as a whole...
As of right now the Conclave of Patriarchs, based in Anaria, held nominal control over all of the Old-Church and the churches of Klironomea in general. Nominally. In reality the church tended to remain split along national borders. Despite that fact there were still appearances to keep up, and so the various Patriarchs of all the Old-Church, as well as the more 'Klironomean' side of the New-Church, came together to choose one amongst their number to speak for them all. In this instance Olyver had been the one to rise to such a position. A layman might think piety and adherence to the scriptures were what decided the leader of half of Saintdom, and to a certain point that was true, but there was also a great deal of blackmail, backstabbing, and backroom dealings involved as well. Olyver had gotten in because he was an energetic firebrand, yes, but the man must have had some dirt on the other Patriarchs for them to have so readily accepted his ascent.
Lykourgos shrugged, deciding he didn't really care why the Conclave had picked him. The man could be worked with, and that was all that mattered. The Owkrestan clergy hadn't been all that receptive to being under the actual control of the Conclave and its leader in Anaria, and so long as the clergy were unhappy the people would be unhappy. The higher echelons of the church in Owkrestos weren't going to budge on this matter, not when it was their power and influence that would be curbed, and so Lykourgos decided that he'd have to start with the lower rungs of the church in Owkrestos. A few donations to local churches here, a few visits to shrines and monasteries there, perhaps a couple of letters being sent out...
Patriarch Olyver had lent his men to the campaign. It was only fair that Lykourgos try and help the man out with this.
This thought brought him back to his what had started this whole line of thinking; the hierarchy of the Church allowed for too much autonomy outside the Conclave, and those members of the upper-clergy could act with impunity when you got out of reach of Anaria. Perhaps... perhaps some real change was in order after all? What if the Conclave weren't just a group of influence, but an actual, legal entity? Now that would certainly interest Olyver, he was sure of. If the Conclave was standardised, if there were say, one Patriarch for each of the great cities of Klironomea, then Olyver would be able to better project his authority to faraway lands. Of course, that raised the issue of status; though he may have been the head of the Conclave, Patriarch Olyver wasn't any higher legally speaking than his peers. He'd have to talk about it with Olyver in person, since this was certainly more his purview than Lykourgos', but some new title or rank separate from his station as a Patriarch might be needed in the future.
He wouldn't be able to act on the grander parts of such a plan at the moment, but he certainly could at least make notes of them and start making sure the Archdeacons and Bishops of Owkrestos began to see Patriarch Olyver as their leader, not whoever the current most influential Archbishop or Patriarch in Owkrestos was.
Helping out Patriarch Olyver was only the right thing to do, after all. Lykourgos was a good, pious man, and if that just happened to ensure that the Church's support of him was a little more... enthusiastic, than it had been until this point, then he certainly wouldn't complain.
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The sun had all but set at this point, so he made to light a candle to give himself some light so that he may continue working. He'd been given a few beeswax candles as a gift from the king of Triarios recently, though why he wasn't sure. Beeswax candles were far more expensive than simple animal fat or tallow candles, that was true, but a trio of them was hardly to be considered a particularly stately gift. Still, they'd certainly see some use now, so he'd count his blessings where he could.
That was odd. One of the candles felt... different. He hadn't been sure why the foreign king had deigned these candles to be a good gift for him, but as he picked up the three candles he realised exactly why; one of them was a lot lighter than the others, and sounded... hollow, when he tapped it against the table. He snapped it in half, curious, and sure enough inside the candle was a hollow chamber containing a rolled up piece of parchment. Clever bastard. I'll have to take note of that technique. Maybe pass it on to Eli, see if he knows it.
The lettering on the parchment was small, so he needed to squint a little to read it, but he could make out the words easily enough despite the minor smudging.
To My Fellow Monarch,
The business of rulership is a tiresome one, is it not? How many endless petty indignities must we put up with before we can claim our rights? The rewards of such patience far outstrip the negatives, I am sure you will agree, but in this instance I'd like you to know that being reckless and taking a leap of faith will net you a reward greater still than that which you've carved out of Owkrestos with your own steel.
Do I have your attention? I should, for the offer I present to you is truly one of a kind. My sons took a little convincing, but they've both come around. My lords do not know I send this letter to you, nor do I intend to tell them. If you'd like to make a deal with me, I suggest you don't let them know we're to meet either.
My condolences for the death of your father. He had his flaws, but then so do all men. He is one man I am pleased to never have to face again in the games of the court. My condolences as well for the death of your sister, though I gather she'd gone quite mad in her last weeks.
Pleasantries aside, for I know you care not for my words of politeness, make sure you take me up on the offer I present to you. I will tell you nothing of it, and I will offer you nothing in context. All I shall give you are instructions. I will be waiting for you, alone, in a small inn on the Owkrestan border with my lands. I will wait there a week from the tenth. If you don't come to meet me I shall be very disappointed.
My grandfather began to take Teleytaios in a new direction. He was of no relation to me by blood, for he adopted my father when the man was in his adolescence. Still, the ingenuity he held, the ability to recognise that Klironomea was changing, has been passed down through the generations. For you and your father, this change manifested in the wresting of power away from the lords. A very, very lucrative prospect, of that I have no doubt. For my family, change has come another way. Business. We're businessmen as well as kings, and as someone as well read as you must know we're very good at both of those tasks.
There's only one problem for my family going forwards: we aren't at all fond of the idea of losing our positions.
Knowing this, and knowing that you hold grand designs of your own, I wonder if perhaps our goals might be made to align. I heard of the work of your brother, of the fate that befell the Old Oak, and it gave me more than one idea myself. I should greatly like to visit the monument he made in the centre of Blackoak's old castle. Perhaps your brother will have earned his own moniker before the year is out? 'Iron Oak'. How's that for a prospective name?
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I've rambled enough in this letter without saying much. Apologies for the secrecy in getting it to you, but you of all people know well how much secrecy is worth for men of our station. I look forwards to meeting you shortly.
Kliran's sons made a dinner of the Skraeling,
now he walks again 'midst his people like a daydream.
So dress as a sellsword and make it like a drayman,
head to the inn of the Evergreen Layman.
Yours, a fellow Monarch and prospective business partner,
King Thrytas Sigiros.
Despite how serious the letter read, Lykourgos couldn't help but smile as the foreign ruler parodied a few lines of a popular song to close out his letter. That sort of gave him an idea of just who he was to be dealing with before he'd even met the man. He'd known King Thrytas was a savvy businessman, hell, everyone knew that the Triarian royal family had started sliding into 'merchant guild-come-syndicate' decades ago, but it seemed like the man at least had a sense of humour and a flair for petty dramatics.
Seeing as Lykourgos had been dealing with Elikoidi for the better part of a decade he figured he'd be pretty alright when it came to talking with this man. 'Dramatics' were practically his friend's middle name.
Speaking of Elikoidi, this was probably exactly the sort of thing his friend would call him foolish for considering. Well, Elikoidi probably wouldn't use the term 'foolish' exactly, probably something far more vulgar, but still. It wasn't... it wasn't a sound idea. It could easily be a setup for some sort of ambush, hell, Lykourgos had seen to the death of an Owkrestan lord on the road not four months ago. There could easily be half a dozen men on the road to kill him off, and whilst he was good with a sword he couldn't exactly fight six well-armed men at once. Splitting one's concentration in a fight was always a risk, but he'd be forced to if someone came down the road for him.
Then again, maybe he was overthinking this. After all, he wasn't sure if the inn was even in Triarios, so he may have been staying in Owkrestos the whole time for all he knew. But he supposed that, if the last few weeks had proved anything, it was that there were people within this land who wanted him dead just as much as, if not more than, any foreign kingdom did. Still, he had to admit that this letter intrigued him; the King of Triarios wanted to enter into a deal of some sort with him, did he? The last monarch who'd wanted to make a deal with him had lost his crown, but King Thrytas seemed rather... confident. The man was acting like he had Lykourgos' number down already.
Well, he thought to himself, the man must have a knack for that sort of thing. The Sigiros family haven't maintained control of both their kingdom and their business rivals this long without the skills to differentiate a potential friend from a potential foe. That's just common sense.
He looked at the letter again, committing the words to memory, then stood from his desk and made to find his friend, Romanos. If anyone would go wild at the prince's sudden disappearance then it was to be him, so it was probably in everyone's best interest if he went to tell the knight now. As he stood from the desk he felt his legs wobble a little, and his head go light, but the feelings quickly passed. He pressed a hand to his stomach as it gurgled a little.
I knew I forgot to do something earlier.
Well it was a little late for dinner, but he hadn't the intention of going hungry so he decided to head to the kitchens first anyway. He could call on Ilias and have the lad grab him something, but seeing as he was to be up and moving about anyway it couldn't hurt for him to go and fetch something himself. Besides, the boy was still running errands for Elikoidi, so was in the rather difficult position of trying to balance two roles at once. Lykourgos had no intention of making it more difficult for him.
He moved down to the kitchens at a leisurely pace, and whilst he had expected to find a few people down there no matter the hour he was extremely surprised to see who else but Romanos, the knight giving a rather stern glare to the young former king Aleksandar.
"There, I've eaten something, can I go now?"
"I'd really rather you eat some more. You'll fade to nothing at this rate."
Ah. It seemed that the boy was still struggling with eating. Still, judging by what had been said it seemed Romanos had at least been able to get the lad to eat something, so that was definitely promising. With any luck he'd be back to normal in no time at all, and with enough time and a full stomach he might even come around to realising that what Lykourgos was doing was for the best. The child hadn't been overtly hostile to him, but had made a show of deliberately avoiding Lykourgos since sending off his official letter of surrender.
Lykourgos wasn't too fussed, in all honesty. The kingdom was still his, no matter how petty the former king wanted to be about his loss. The legal side of things was done, as was the military part, and so whilst he had no wish for any harm to befall the boy it really didn't matter how cordial Aleksandar wanted to be moving forwards. He was the only one with anything to lose, after all.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"
"Your Grace! Nay, I'm only trying to get your ward to eat a little more before he wastes further. May I ask why you're down here."
Lykourgos smiled at his friend a little, noting that Aleksandar seemed to be trying to pay him no mind.
"Of course. I was coming to find you, but I realised when I stood from my desk that I'd forgotten to eat today. I was so enwrapped in my work that... well, I simply hadn't remembered to eat today. So I decided to stop down here first, get some food, then come and find you. It's a pleasant coincidence for you to be here as well."
Romanos smiled at him and nodded, then called out to the cooks.
"Get the prince his meal! He's had a long day, so make sure it's hearty."
Lykourgos shook his head in amusement, then Romanos turned to him and continued speaking.
"Well, what was it you originally wanted to come and see me about? I take it there's no harm in... other people, hearing of it?"
Angels, but Romanos was terrible at being subtle. Aleksandar must have noticed it as well, for he rolled his eyes in frustration and annoyance and made to leave.
"Actually, I was just about to leave anyway."
Lykourgos held up his hand, and didn't quite miss how the boy started at the gesture as though he'd been gravely offended. I guess a lifetime on the throne, even as a puppet, doesn't make one pleased to be on the receiving end of so blatant a command.
"Stay, if you would. You might be able to offer me some advice on this matter as well."
The boy nodded reluctantly and turned to fully face Lykourgos, arms crossed and foot tapping.
"Alright. What is it?"
Lykourgos sighed as he took out the note.
"I recently received this message through hidden channels. The seal and signature is that of King Thrytas Sigiros of Triarios. He asks to meet with me in private, no guards and no retainers, just me and him in some tavern in the middle of nowhere."
Romanos' brows furrowed, and the man visibly worked his mind to try and work out just what the Triarian was trying to play at.
"From... the King of Triarios? Meet him alone? Where?"
"Yes, yes, and at an inn called the 'Evergreen Layman', to answer your questions in order."
Romanos shook his head.
"I don't like this. There have been three attempts on your life to date-"
"Four. Don't forget Seastream."
The knight rolled his eyes good-naturedly, then amended his total.
"Four attempts on your life to date. Three of those, counting Seastream as one, you survived only through outside intervention. Elikoidi, Ilias, and Dreamwulf respectively. I know for a fact you're planning on going through with this, but for the life of me I can't work out why you think this is a good idea."
"Call it a gut instinct. Here, read it through for yourself."
Lykourgos smiled at Romanos' evident confusion as he handed his friend the note, doing his best to ignore how fuming young Aleksandar looked. It made sense that the boy would be upset, for where he was once a king now Lykourgos was being treated with by foreign royalty in his stead.
Given how the boy had lived life as a puppet Lykourgos doubted he'd ever received a message from a foreign royal before. Father hadn't bothered attending his coronation, calling it a waste of time. Father had instead assisted the noble houses of Owkrestos in preventing house Blackoak's consolidation of power. Nowadays Lykourgos wasn't so sure that was all father had intended with his support for Aleksandar's regency; father might not have been the greatest statesman to have lived, but he surely must have recognised that by keeping the regency council of the king strong and setting them at odds with house Blackoak Owkrestos would be kept divided and without a strong leader. For as long as the noble houses of Owkrestos had maintained their games of power grabbing and deceit they had been forced to focus their energies on maintaining their own positions at court, leaving them with a society ill-prepared for the wars on the horizon and a weak ruler to guide them.
Yes, he thought to himself before getting back on track, I think father probably realised all of that quite well.
"It seems I am to meet with him in a rather quaint location; he wants to meet me in person at a small tavern on the border between Owkrestos and Triarios. He tells me not to bring anyone with me, and that he'll do the same."
"Lykourgos, you cannot mean to go through with this? Did you forget that nought but a week ago a group of ruffians and vagabonds tried to kill you?"
Lykourgos raised an eyebrow at the knight, smirking a little.
"I don't think I'm liable to forget anytime soon, friend. But he's not a part of the Choir, at least as far as we know. Besides, I'm curious; what is it he could possibly want to meet me for that he didn't feel comfortable enough to share in this letter? What needs to be said that cannot be said in the presence of his lords, or my councillors for that matter? What is it he wants to meet with me in person for? I am intrigued by what he says, and intend to meet with him. Alone."
Romanos opened his mouth and made to speak, but strangely enough he was cut off by the young ex-king of Owkrestos.
"If you really are intent on doing this, at least take a few guards and trusted men with you for the better part of the journey. You may want to do right by Owkrestos and its people, but many will still see you as a conqueror, especially as you travel through the fens. You may have staved off an attempt on your life last week, but if you travel completely alone your bodyguard won't be there to save you."
Lykourgos desperately tried to bite down a smile as his... prisoner? Ward? What was Aleksandar now exactly? He tried to bite down a smile as Aleksandar advised him on how people might be trying to kill Lykourgos in his name. As if sensing his amusement the boy grumbled and turned away, muttering under his breath.
"You told me to advise you on the Owkrestan people, and I'm advising you now by telling you that they won't be pleased with the ascent of a foreign noble to the throne. You'll need to watch your back, at least for the next few seasons. Rule well and they'll forget you're a foreigner by the end of the next year, but if you don't they'll remind you with arrow and bolt. So it's in your best interest to stay guarded for now and to rule well for the future."
He nodded at the kid. It wasn't a bad plan, and by agreeing with it the boy might start trusting him a little more, since he'd have listened to his idea.
"Alright. Romanos, I'll be going alone, but I want you to send a band of knights that will hang back when we get a mile or so from our destination. I want them in plain clothes, like the Starlings. I'll take them with me for my own safety, for even my stubbornness can't deny the target on my back forever, but we aren't making a show of this journey. Plain clothes and a small entourage, no more than four men and no barding for the horses. I know it isn't perfect and you'd rather there were more of them with me, but this is as good a compromise as I can think of. Does that work for you?"
Romanos didn't look enthused, but he nodded anyway.
"Your will be done, your Grace."
Lykourgos nodded at him and smiled as a plate of food was brought out for him. It seemed he had a meeting to prepare for.