This choice: Meet With The Noblemen In Court • Go Back... While I waited for the noblemen to come to the chamber, I watched a heavily loaded raft, limp up the River Mirsey, against the force of snow melt pushing down stream. A dray horse and an old man latched their lives to the vessel and trudged their way northward towards Bethembly. I wanted to shout at them for employing themselves in such a stupid endeavor, but at the moment my soul was heavily invested in as stupid an endeavor. In reality I should have donned some peasant clothes and yoked myself with them as the sweating trio of fools on the river's path - inch by futile inch.
The noblemen will soon come to tell me that while I am King, I am a vassal. A slave more-or-less, to the house of the Seven. I am a King in name only, and probably this alone by the distinction that my subjects willingly pay all of their taxes to the stronger houses and the nobles have never lifted a finger to intervene. They too feel the sting of the heavy levies placed on us. To which house? It varies. It depends solely on the house that is the strongest at the moment. They become our protector for a while as we feed them beef, venison, mutton and fish with the occasional bounty that comes from our soil.
My simple kingdom of Dimbersmere was never worth conquering, and the "kings" always capitulated and made bargains to keep from being slaughtered. As time went by, many of our citizens grew in their wealth as merchants and craftsmen. While this is a great accomplishment for the people and has won accolades for my hapless predecessor, it has nearly given us a prize status. Too poor we would be left to die - too rich? Could lead to some severe consequences.
The only mystery in the counsel of nobles is what guilds are aligned for autonomy and which ones want to bargain for another alliance. Either way, the price is going to be too high.
Sir Cleven is the first to arrive and I am glad. He comes to the window and chuckles immediately. Ie instantly grasps the significance of the what I see.
"You seem to be back to being your jovial self, my lord," Sir Cleven said.
"It is not every day that one is nearly assassinated while attempting to execute a traitor."
"You did not need to be in harm's way. You could have left Michael in the hands of the executioner."
"That would have been the logical way," I said, leaving the window and taking my seat at the head of the counsel table. "I suppose I had a notion. Foolish I suppose but I wanted to send a message to all traitors in my realm that I would be the one to mete out justice. And I guess by way of defending the realm in this small way I actually felt for a moment like I was king."
"You will have plenty of opportunities for demonstrating your hand of justice. There is a discontent rising between the classes of Dimbersmere. You've heard. You can almost smell it if you can't hear. The poor want a justice that won't come by a sword or any future alliance. Get into the midst of that struggle - that will prove your aptitude to hold the throne."
"Is that your counsel for me today Cleven?"
Cleven only smirked at me and closed his right eye as if to wink, but it was only his quirky way of dealing with his own inability to hold secrets tightly. I knew there was a lot more he was holding back. Not for conspiracy reasons, it was just his way to never tell everything all at once. I would eventually get his full counsel. He would wait until all the nobles had spoken.
The three remaining members of my counsel arrived together. Each of their faces were grey granite, and though never distinguished by fain countenance or handsome features, they were as ugly as death today. I motioned for them to take their seats. All eyes averted meeting other eyes. Throats were cleared as if preparing to speak. Silence.
What I learned at my mother's feet about such moments was that it was a good time to take stock of who was with me. I never pleased her. And tired of constantly scolded me she would instead punish me with long draughts from conversation and a sour face to peer into. This, unfortunately for my mother, whose beauty had faded quickly after I was born, became her method for dealing with everything that perturbed her in life. I found contentment in her grim displays of temperament.
Sir Sladhok at my immediate left hand was most like her. His eyes were red rimmed as though he had been crying for hours. He wore a tunic that bore the colors of his guild of merchants. They were merely butchers, but in a land that doesn't go to war, it gave him a very high rank amongst my other lords. It was the Sladhoks who had discovered Dimbersmere's great gift for growing meat. Lots of good, wholesome beef, venison and mutton. But above all that was the pork. Pigs flourished everywhere in the land and even the poorest of my subjects had herds of the foul beasts. Sladhok kept his watery eyes focused at some point far on the horizon.
Across from him, to Cleven's right sat the massive Tome. Having no title, Tome felt no need to make one up. He was a nobleman by the distinction of being able to turn raw materials into beautiful practical wares that commanded high prices from the Lords of the Seven Houses. A burly man who always dressed in black woolen shirt and trousers, felt most at ease when his massive chest and belly were covered by a black leather apron. His gray hair clumped in snake-like coils cascaded down around the ears that formed the most promminate outcrops from this boulder head.
Tome's eyes seemed to focus at last on Sir Nascar Kirwin who seemed oblivious to being the odd man in the bunch. He was the only true nobleman at the table, myself included. His great-grand -father was a Lord in the House Stark. When Dimbersmere became allied with that powerful House, Sir Adele Kirwin was made Lord Protector and First King of Dimbersmere. He was a benevolent king who allowed the Clevens and the Sladhocks to lead their various communities in any direction they pleased. His son, Sir Stephen Kirwin, abdicated his right to the throne as he went slowly mad after his third son Nascar was born. Nascar whose abilities as a musician and whose love of music and the arts made him odd in all other aspects of life, eventually did bring him notoriety throughout many houses. He became a collector and a broker of art and ancient writings. He had recently become a sought after agent for musicians and theater groups.
I let the silence between us grow. I looked hard at each man and Sir Cleven followed my lead. I couldn't help finding a peace in this bit of control I seemed to have over these "lords".
Word Count 1211    indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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