Prologue
Foreign Entanglements
Castle Newstone, Gladius
"After the Great War, united humanity once again broke off into its many nations, factions and creeds. Gladius grew increasingly isolated under the rule of the sons of Everard and Randwulf did little to change this after he usurped the throne from the Mountain Kings. It is not so easy to say whether this isolation was wise or foolish. There is much to gain through foreign relations, but foreign entanglements can prove a snare to the feet and invite ruin."
- Excerpt from the assorted writings of Mark the Guardian
King Edric idly tapped on the arm of the throne. He hated the morning audiences. He hated the afternoon audiences too, for that matter. He hated his training in sword, lance and horse. He hated his lessons in history, literature and statecraft. Most of all, he hated that he had sat on the throne for these past eleven years with his kingship being nothing more than an empty title. Did he really have to wait until he was twenty to rule in his own right?
He glanced over to his mother sitting on the throne next to him. Stupid woman. Damn her. If not for her being taken in by all these simpering leeches, he might have had more of a free hand to act. Then there was his uncle seated on the Lord Regent's throne the level below him. He was as much of a problem as the Queen Mother. At least the previous Lord Regent kept these carrion birds from circling around to pick the meat off his bones.
Speaking of those carrion birds, there was an alcove behind the throne people called 'the Chancel' where the most favored courtiers gathered so that they might easily ascend to whisper in the King's ear. They rarely went to the Lord Regent as they were of one party and, for the most part, one mind. They had been dripping their poison in Edric's ear for as long as he could remember, trying to make him their creature. He knew what they were doing and he hated them for it, but if he crossed them, he would end up like his father.
His father... Edric had only vague memories of his father. He seemed to a child's eyes as a giant, a raging ogre. Most of what he knew about his father came from the previous Lord Regent, Baron Siegfried. The way the old Captain would go on, you would think his father was some sort of god, that there was holy purpose in being the Mountain King, heir to the line of Everard.
Why was he called the Mountain King when there was nary a hill in sight for ten leagues in all directions? Apparently his father meant to have the traditional seat of his family's power restored, but the work was abandoned after his death. Newstone was closer to the patricians' sphere of influence. They wanted power close to where they were strongest. A Mountain King out of the mountains... Just another empty title.
The King was roused from his brooding by the announcement of the latest petitioner.
"Pericles, envoy from the Duchy of Titan."
Titan, their neighbor to the west. It was from Titan that Randwulf the Usurper King invaded with his bandit hordes, routing Edric's grandfather and ushering in twenty years of Northman rule.
Why were they called Northmen when they came from the west? Perhaps it was because they were on the northern coast of the continent, though the continent itself was in the south according to the map of the world Edric had seen. There may have been something about them originally coming from the Far North, but Edric never did bother to remember much from his lessons.
Though the Northman envoy was dressed in Northman fashion, he did not seem to be of Northman stock, being thin and sallow with a sparse beard, much unlike the two doughty warriors acting as his escorts. The trio knelt before the throne and the envoy said, "His Grace the Archduke Orestes and the most noble jarls and freemen of the Althing send their greetings, Edric, King of the Gladians, but also ill tidings. Our lands are beset by a fierce rebel menace and His Grace the Archduke calls on Your Majesty for aid in accordance with the terms of the pact forged between Gladius and Titan."
How pathetic was Duke Orestes that he needed to come begging to foreign allies to put down a mere rebellion? Did he have no pride? Then again, Edric did owe his crown to a successful rebellion. Still it did not change his contempt for the Archduke.
Normally Edric held his tongue during these audiences, but he could not keep the words from slipping out.
"If Orestes can't handle some rabble, I don't see what business it is of mine."
Lord Gratianus of the Thracian Flavii ascended from the Chancel to whisper, "Your Majesty, we must honor our obligations to our allies. The honor of our kingdom—your honor, Your Majesty—is at stake."
What was honor? It neither filled the belly nor satisfied the senses. Fools killed and died for honor and what did it get them in the end?
Lord Fabianus of House Antonius was the next to ascend from the Chancel and approached Edric from the other side.
"It is good to garb oneself in honor, Your Majesty, but there is also advantage to be had. Certain thorns in Your Majesty's side might be plucked out and sent away. Should they work to Your Majesty's benefit, all is well and good, and perchance some misfortune should befall them, their loss is Your Majesty's gain."
Thorns in his side? More that it was thorns in their sides. So they sought to use honor and obligation as snares for their rivals. Let them have it and maybe by giving them what they wanted, it would create some obligation he could use. It was inevitable that the patricians would turn on each other once their rivals were out of the way. The least Edric could do was find a way to profit from it.
The Lord Regent said, "His Majesty will convene his council to discuss this matter and you will have an answer to deliver to His Lordship the Archduke on the morrow. In the meantime, His Majesty the King extends the hospitality of his hall to you and your men in the spirit of the amity that binds our two nations. You are dismissed."
The envoy bowed and replied, "I gratefully receive this honor on behalf of my lord and wait expectantly for a favorable response. By your leave, my lord, Your Majesty."
The envoy and his escorts withdrew, leaving Edric to wonder if he hated audiences or councils more.