Leo I
“Okay, let him in”
Leo stands in the throne room in James-Mere, wearing his kingly clothes, a yellow robe with a red cape, the colours of the Thine Dynasty that he wears with pride.
Mattheon, the head of the Elite Royal Guard begins to descend down the stone stairs from the throne towards the heavy oak doors. As one of the Elite Royal Guards he is in the blood red, steel armour that they wear as a uniform, the sound of the metal moving echoing through the large room.
Turning his head, Leo looks upon the throne, an ugly thing that he was never too keen on. It stood eight feet tall and made of pure, solid gold, around it filled with shields and the vigils of previous kings, mostly from the Thine dynasty. His own at the head of the throne with a roaring bear imprinted onto it.
Sunlight beamed in through the stain glassed windows that lit up the room. The largest window possessing a large, blue circle to signify the crowns devotion to the gods.
Although the floor was solid yellow stone, there was a blood red rug that covered most of the ground.
Hearing the oak doors open and close, Leo turns his head to see his advisor Harold entering, wearing his holy attire, brown robes with a blue cross stitched in the centre of his chest. Although Harold may be a man of the holy and one of the advisors here at James-Mere, he looked far from most of the regular zealots.
He stood over six feet tall and had muscles that could snap a log in two without even trying. Most of the zealots of the holy were weaker men, never having to fight a day in their lives as they have devoted themselves to a life of deep religion.
Mattheon remained at the closed door on guard, as Harold makes his way up the stairs towards Leo.
Harold is always a reminder to him of how being King of Kings has aged him. Although they were both fifty years of age, Leo’s hair had turned a shining grey and his skin wrinkled due to his responsibilities. Whereas Harald has kept his short brown hair and his skin looks to be as smooth as the day he was born.
Knowing that Harold is as tall as he is, Leo took a few steps down the stairs to meet him, maintaining the higher ground for their conversation.
“Leo, I need to speak to you urgently. I have just had word that a raid has been taken place in Runstorn. Thirty to forty men, dressed in purple armour with black stripes.” Harold warns, not addressing his King in the proper fashion.
It was a strange relationship Leo had with Harold, he was very useful in many ways, his pull with the religion made him a better ally than an enemy. However, he has as a lack of respect for his King, constantly forgetting his place and rank in the Grand Empire.
“Runstorn is in the Byron lands,” Leo replied, “mere raiders are an issue for the High Lord of Byron to deal with and not a problem for the king.”
“Purple with black stripes!” Harold repeated back to him in a tone that Leo does not care for “if my information is correct, it is Waterst..”
“Enough!” Leo shouts back, taking a firm stance against his intellectual foe.
Harold has on many occasion, almost demanded action from his King and Leo was growing tired of it, knowing he needed to put an end to this conversation and to remind Harold of his place, he replies.
“I am not about to start making orders for my men to march to the Byron Lands on your hunch that Waterstint could be raiding villages. There has not been a whisper of Waterstint even being alive for years, your obsession with him needs to come to an end.”
Harold’s brawn body took two steps up the staircase, he was now eye level with the King of Kings, even though he was still standing steps below.
Without showing any faze in his voice or fearful of the way he speaks to his king, Harold continues “But Leo, if it is him and we do nothing he will do it again and again and he will keep getting stronger every time.”
Leo already knew that he was not going to risk the lives of his loyal men to fight off raiders which can be dealt with by the army of the lands they are from.
Before having a chance to reply, Harold speaks yet again.
“I know Runstorn can defend themselves, but do you think they want to know that their king of kings has no care for their wellbeing”
Blood began to boil as Leo’s anger rose to the surface,
Did he just threaten me? He thought.
Not believing the audacity that Harold has to speak to him in this way.
In a very calm yet serious tone, Leo replied.
“Now Harold, I value your opinion and recognise your importance in the holy.”
Pausing, he turns his back to Harold and walks back to the top of the stairs, regaining the higher ground.
“But you would be careful to remember who you are speaking to. I have known you for a long time, but do not take my friendliness to mean you can demand anything from me. If you wish to continue down this road then there will be consequences.”
Turning back around, Leo meets Harold’s eyes again, the beast of a man holding the stare. Leo had assumed that putting Harold in his place that he would back down, yet he does not appear to be doing so.
Harold opened his mouth to speak, but before a word could escape his lips another voice echoed in the room.
“THEY HAVE KILLED MY SON!” A panicked voice screams.
Loud footsteps are echoing around the room getting closer to Leo and Harold before the man screams again “THOSE SAVAGE BASTARDS HAVE BUTCHERED MY SON!”.
Finally coming into sight Leo can see that it is Jarl Peter Boarman that has ran in, Mattheon attempting to hold him back but the man is not being stopped easily.
“Mattheon, allow him in!” Leo ordered.
Peter stormed over, dressed in his usual noble clothing, beige shirt and trousers, black boots and a vest with dark green paisley pattern. On his head he wore a noble square hat with emerald jewels around the top and finally a linen cape that matched the pattern of his vest. This would be his usual attire, however he looks a mess. It was obvious he had not slept in well conditions and was in desperate need of clean clothes.
Finally, Leo processed what Peter had called out. Quickly marching down the stairs, past Harold who remained silent, he met Peter at the bottom. Grabbing both of his shoulders to stop his shaking Leo urgently asks.
“What has happened Peter?”
Looking paler than a glass of milk, Peter raises his head and looks at his King. He is panting like a race horse, his chest heaving back and forth and his brown eyes are blood shot red.
After his earlier screaming, he is now so shaken that he can only let out a measly whisper.
“My son has been butchered. His body was found over 2 weeks ago.”
“What? By whom?” Leo asked.
“Those Reaver scum!” Peter screamed, his anger coming back, “They left him in a pile of wet mud, they hacked his head off like savages!”
This cannot be true. Which god has forsaken me today? Leo thought.
Peters head flopped down, heavy tear drops were crashing onto the floor below him as Leo attempted to comfort him.
“I am truly sorry for your loss my friend. Lucas was a good man and you raised him well. But I must ask you, how do you know it was the Taylors that killed your son?”
Peter took a moment to wipe his face dry, looking up from the and at his king, he spoke with anger, spit flying from his mouth.
“Because those animals shot 3 of their arrows into his friends” He then opened his brown satchel and pulled out what Leo is assuming is one of the arrows found at the scene. “And they were killed in a Town called Wigstan, which is in part of the territory that you took from the Taylors and gave to the Riverfalls after their rebellion. Who else would be savage enough to kill unarmed boys?!”
Leo slowly took the arrow from Peters hand, it was definitely made of the black oak which only grew in the Northern Kingdoms, and being in the disputed land, it would make sense for this to be the Taylors.
Turning back towards Harold, who has been quietly listening to this conversation. Leo knew that Harold will somehow be thinking of a way to benefit from this situation.
He was showing no clear emotion, one of the few people that Leo could not read.
Although Leo knew that these are the sort of situations where Harold could be either very useful, or extremely dangerous. It isn’t because of his strength that he got to the rank he is now, it was his cunning and ruthlessness.
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Slowly approaching him with the arrow, Harold gives a slight nod back to the King of Kings.
He already knows that this is an arrow used by the Taylors. Leo thought.
“I want justice for my son!” Peter called out from behind, “He is my only heir and I want their filthy Reaver High Chief Adaram brought here to admit that he did it or that one of his vile sons did and have them all executed now!”
Looking into Harold’s direction once more, Leo can see his eyes are looking through him rather than at him, clearly working out his best course of action. Leo turned back around and went closer to the grieving father.
“I understand your anger my friend, I will send a messenger to contact the Taylors at once.”
“CONTACT THEM! I want them arrested and brought here in fucking chains! And if you won’t then I fucking will!”
Knowing that he had to handle this situation with care, he could not have Peter waging war on the Taylors. He walked back towards him, placing his hands onto the man’s shaking shoulders and calmy, yet sternly told him.
“Now, my friend. I understand that you are grieving, yet I have told you that I will contact the High Chief Adaram immediately and I will find out what has happened. We do not know for certain that they are to blame. I will get justice for your son. In the meantime, I expect you to wait for further instruction.”
“I do not need you to look for other justice! It was the Taylors! I know it!” Peter screamed.
“How can you know this for certainty? Were there any witnesses?”
Peter’s eyes were welling up, rage and sadness clearly overpowering him when he stuttered out.
“There are no witnesses, nearly every single person in the town of Wigstan was butchered. They massacred all of the men, women and children.”
The Taylor’s are brutal people, but this is too far even for them. Leo thought.
“Peter, you need time to calm down. You will be given a room where you will compose yourself whilst I take action.”
Peter was clearly angered, but not one to step out of line and disobey his king gave a nod in reply, his eyes locked to the floor.
“Good,” Leo said, “Now if you leave us, Mattheon will guide you to a room with a warm bath and get your clothes washed. I will get working straight away on a resolution for this travesty and I will have a grand funeral arranged for your son.”
Peter again nods, head down he slowly turns and leaves the throne room in silence. Leaving Leo alone with Harold.
“What do you make of this?” Leo asked, not looking at Harold and not happy that he is aware of all that has gone on.
“You can’t execute a Taylor without absolute proof and that arrow alone is not enough to go off” Harold’s deep voice tells the King.
“These words aren’t helping me, Harold. I need you to make sure that no one, and I mean no one finds out about Lucas’s death.”
Harold simply replies “Yes, my king”. As he walked towards the door to leave, he turns around and says “We can finish our discussion about Waterstint another time.”
Before replying, Harold left the room and closed the door.
As angered as Leo was with the way Harold spoke to him, he has bigger issues to think of now.
Slowly walking up the staircase and sitting on the mighty throne Leo ponders to himself.
A murdered Boarman boy, why have the gods brought this upon me?
A few hours later, sitting at the map table, six foot long and every inch of the land of Oswen carved into the wood. Leo spends more nights than most at this table now, memorising every city, town and hill that he can. From the White Mountains in the Southlands to the Pink Beaches of Denil.
Ever since Leo ended the Taylor rebellion when he was thrust into being king at the age of sixteen, the continent has lived in somewhat peace. But the fear of war has haunted his mind ever since, fear of an all out war that could crush his life’s work of building a prosperous empire.
As he looks over the table he thinks to himself.
Taylor’s and the Boarman’s. Their petty feud has been around for centuries, it should have died with their ancestors but the stubbornness of High Borns appears to outmatch sound judgement. My life has been spent stopping the squabbling of who wants what, and now, it may all come crushing down on my head. And for what? A young, stuck up boy that was murdered in the streets? I will not have this as my legacy!
As the sun was rising, the room began to light up through the blue stain glassed windows. The wooden door creeks open and Leo see’s the three advisors that he has invited.
On most occasions, Leo’s council would involve seven advisors, however given the importance of secrecy of this matter he has only invited his most trusted companions.
Entering the room were Oswold, a minor scribe that Leo have been spending more time with lately, similar to Harold, he is dressed in the brown robes and sandals, however he has a red circle stitched onto his chest instead of Harold’s blue cross.
Next in is Tatton Clayston, he is a breakaway house of the Thine Dynasty and is a distant relative of Leo’s. In his usual light steel armour with his blood red house colours and a blood red cape. Tatton always looks impeccable, his dark brown hair thick and wavy falling just to his shoulders. Tatton has always prided himself on his appearance and he takes longer than most women do to get ready. Leo cannot fault Tatton on his loyalty, being one of few people he truly trusted within the Grand Empire.
Finally, there was Leo’s oldest friend, Marley. Marley is not high or low born, coming from a poor family, and even though he now has the money of one he still dresses and acts like a commoner. With his short scruffy brown hair, unkept beard and wearing a simple black shirt and black trousers. Leo has known Marley since he was only five years of age. Some lawless men tried to attack him and his mother while they were out in the green forest, Marley and his father lived in a small hut nearby and jumped to help fight away the criminals. Ever since then Leo have always wanted to help and look after Marley as if he is his own kin.
The three men slowly gathered around the table, each greeting Leo as their king.
Looking up at each man, he begins to speak.
“Thank you for joining me gentlemen. None of you will have knowledge of what I am about to tell you, so this stays within these four walls. Lucas Boarman, Peter’s only son and heir has been murdered.” Leo stopped to gauge their reactions, Marley’s eyes wide with confusion, Tatton’s expression changing only to listen more intently and Oswold doing the same, “There is reason to believe this was a planned attack carried out by the Taylors.”
The room fell silent for a few minutes as the men processed this information.
“What is the reason to believe this is the Taylors?” Tatton enquires.
Reaching under the table and pulling out the arrow that Peter handed to him yesterday Leo continues.
“This is one of the arrows used to kill some of the other friends that were murdered alongside Lucas, as you can see by the blue and red feathers and it is made from black oak, this is the same arrows used by only the Taylor family.”
Marley and Oswold remained silent, with Tatton still enquiring.
“Just because it is a Taylor arrow doesn’t necessarily mean it was one of them.”
“The murder happened in the Town of Wigstan which is in part of the territory that the Taylor’s lost after their rebellion” Leo informs them.
None of the men say a word, their faces showing mixed emotion of confusion and fear, Leo continued,
“Now, I do not know that it is the Taylors doing for certainty. And given the lack of evidence there appears to be no solid proof. However, given the bad blood between the two families, Peter is blinded by his rage and is aiming it directly at the heart of the Taylor dynasty.”
Marley is harshly staring at Leo.
“Is Peter Boarman still in in James-Mere?” He asked.
“He is, I have my Elite Guards watching him for now. But he won’t stay here for long, he will wish to go back to his home. I have ordered that he make no movement towards the Taylors, however given his high emotion at this time even he may go against the word of his king.” Leo told them.
“Is there any way to prove it wasn’t the Taylors? If we can show Peter that they are not to blame them he can guide his anger somewhere else?” Tatton asked.
“Unfortunately not, it appears that after killing Lucas Boarman and his acquaintances, that they then massacred everyone in the town.”
“Gods be strong, what monsters could massacre an entire town!” Marley got out before sitting back in shock.
“It wouldn’t come to any surprise, if only half of the stories I have been told about Adaram’s sons are true they are more wild animals than high borns!” Tatton argued.
This is the issue, Leo thought, The Taylors have given themselves such a bad name that such a crime would not be a shock to many!
“So, what are we going to do?” Marley asked.
“I am going to send for Adaram to come here, I will tell him about the murder and try and judge his reaction and figure out if he is to blame.” Leo informed his advisors.
“What if we go about trying to find who else could be to blame? Send an investigating party to track down if there was another killer?” Marley asked.
“That is why I invited you here.” Leo said to which the men looked at him confused, “Marley, you and one other are going to visit Wigstan and see if you can find any clues as to who else could have done this.”
“Why me?” Marley asked.
“I do not mean any offense my friend, but you do not look high born and most people will not recognise you. You can travel whilst not being spotted and causing any alarm.” Leo told him.
“What about me?” Tatton asked.
“You are to go to Rockwall and see Adaram Taylor and invite him to James-Mere.” Leo said.
“Yes, my king.” He replied, being the loyal servant that he is.
“Do not give him any indication of what is going on, simply tell him that I wish to meet.”
“I understand.” Tatton replied.
Leo stood up from the table and said to the men.
“Thank you for your help, that will be all.”
Each of the men rose from their seats, giving their king a courteous bow and then leaving the room, all except for Oswold.
“Did you get everything?” Leo asked him.
“Yes my King.” He replied.
“Good, add your notes to the archive.” Leo ordered, Oswold giving him a bow then left Leo once again alone in the meeting room.
He remained sat, looking over the table for a few more minutes, contemplating how this could turn out. Eventually he decided to leave and go back to his chambers.
Walking down the corridors of James-Mere castle, looking at the paintings of his ancestors that ruled before him. So far as king he has ruled a prosperous age, however he knows that it could all hang in the balance.
Reaching his chambers, he walked in to see his wife Sandra, his son Harry and his daughter Fleor.
Sandra was teaching Fleor to sow and Harry was reading, most likely an old war book.
“Father.” Harry said when spotting Leo enter the room.
“Hello son.” Leo replied and then walked over to his wife and daughter, kissing them both on their heads.
“Where have you been?” Sandra asked.
“I will discuss that with you later.” He told her.
“When am I going to be involved in your meetings father?” Harry asked.
Looking over to his son, Harry was stood up right, holding his book in one hand.
“Soon, don’t worry son. You will be tasked with all this one day.”
“I’m ready now father!” He argued taking a step towards Leo.
“You are ready when I say you are ready.” Leo told him in a menacing tone.
Harry has always been eager to join his father with his kingly duties, however now he has come of age, Leo knows he will have to start introducing him to this world. A burden he did not wish upon anyone.
“Come now children, time for bed.” Sandra said standing up from her chair.
“Father?” Fleor asked whilst staying seated, “Mother told me that you are seeking a man for me to marry?”
“That is true my dear.” Leo replied.
“What if I do not want to? What if I want to stay here?” She asked, her eyes clearly saddened by the idea of having to leave.
“You will be a woman soon, when you do you will have to act as such.” Leo told her, “And one such task of being a woman is being a good wife and mother.”
“Yes father.” Fleor said and then stood from the chair and left the room.
Turning back around, Harry was still looking at his father.
“Harry, you heard your mother.” Leo told him.
“I am going to the training yard with Franklyn.” He said back, in a tone that Leo found disrespectful.
As Leo went to reply, his son quickly rushed out of the room and the door was closed behind him, leaving Leo alone with his loving wife.
“Come to bed, you can tell me about your day there.” She said grabbing onto one of his hands and guiding them both to the bedroom.
Once undressed and lay under the silk sheets together, Sandra was looking at Leo with her beautiful brown eyes.
“What happened today?” She asked.
Sighing, Leo replied.
“Jarl Peter Boarman’s son has been murdered, and there is reason to believe it was the Taylors.”
Sandra’s face was obviously shocked by this news, Leo tried not to burden his wife with problems of the Empire, but sometimes he needed her.
“What is going to happen?” She asked.
“If the gods are smiling down on me, I can sort this out without any more bloodshed.” Leo told her, barely believing the words himself.
“And if the gods are not?” She asked.
“This could lead to an all-out war.”