There is a book series by George RR Martin that I rather like. It starts with A Game of Thrones, and so far is up to three novels. I recommend it to anyone who likes fantasy, though you don't see much of that at first. There is one bit of caution I issue though: Do NOT get too attached to any character in that series. Mr. Martin has shown no hesitation whatsoever to grease MAIN characters, and no one is fully what they appear to be.
It was that element of reality that makes the story so damn gripping. You can't sit back, content in the knowledge that the character you are reading about will make it to a happy ending. People die in this series, and it seems almost completely unbelievable, but it keeps you on the edge of your seat. Will they succeed? Will they even survive? It's a hard book, but that makes the victories of the characters you like that much sweeter, because you knew that they were in danger and made it despite the odds.
I have been asked how it was that I could kill a character like poor Annea.
Let's just say that I've taken some inspiration from Mr. Martin, and leave it at that.
Again, if you have any questions, comments, suggestions or criticisms, feel free to email me at cperez@gmotion.com
"Death is but a doorway. What goes in one way can come back through again." - Maximus the Necromancer.
The encampment was a bundle of tension. The Elves had completely taken over security for the Heirs citing their opinion that if one of the Prince's own bodyguards could attempt an assassination despite the magical bindings on them, then NO human could be trusted to guard the Elvin Prince and his betrothed.
King Kail's security was taken over by the Paladins. Each Paladin was standing watch with an Elf at his side just to be sure. The Magi were kept away from both, and the Magister was under guard. Elvin guard. No one was sure yet what had happened.
It all started the previous night when Count Beladon had stumbled out of the Prince's Pavilion screaming in soul-tearing agony. Off duty members of the guard, many of whom chose to stay fairly close even when off duty, swarmed over the Pavilion in a flash. They quickly secured the area, while the Count fled past them into the forest howling, as several of their fellows entered the structure with blades and spells ready.
The scene that welcomed them was from a bodyguard's nightmare. One protectee was slumped over the dinner table, while the other was on his knees, weeping over the body of one of his own guards with a sword in his bloodstained hands. The sundered skull was that of none other than the wife of Count Beladon and second in command of the guard unit. Nearby was the internal guard, sprawled on the ground with his sword at his side.
Worst of all, there was the Lady Annea.
True to their duty they spread out to access the situation. With smooth professionalism, they established that Prince E'rin was alive but unconscious, as was U'thian. Prince Ethan was obviously alive, and just as obviously suffering from shock and trauma. Lady Annea was also dead, though there was no apparent cause.
I'olias'Atel'annea, one of the last three survivors of the elvin Royal Guard was now the de facto head of the Princes' security detail. He had already dispatched trackers to bring back the Count who had fled into the forest still screaming and was in the process of trying to sort out the colossal screw-up in the Pavilion.
Healer Danath, the personal physician of the Royal couple was hurried to the tent by the guard without a word of explanation. A tall thin man, his long fingered hands were both nimble and delicate which allowed him to perform the complex gestures of the spells he used to diagnose and treat his patients. Once inside, he moved quickly to examine Prince E'rin, deeming his unconscious condition to be potentially more serious. Weaving a complex elemental pattern he delved the young elf, probing his form to uncover what would keep his Highness so deeply asleep despite the chaos around him.
"Therone." He said confidently. "His Highness has definitely been put under with Therone. He's in no danger." Danath was already on his way to examine the other Prince when the last words came out of his mouth.
I'olias nodded his understanding, relaxing only slightly. Therone was a fairly common sedative, and was harmless except in massive quantities that one would have to drink virtually undiluted. Since it broke down in the body incredibly fast, it would require almost a full bottle to be drunk in a continuous gulp to be fatal. It was also used on those who had serious heart problems, or to slow heavy bleeding, as it worked to dramatically slow down the heart. He motioned for a pair of guards to carry the Prince to his bed to sleep it off.
A cry came from the Healer that brought I'olias around in and instant, sword in hand. He saw Danath on his knees, cradling his head in his hands, moaning in pain.
"What is going on Healer?" The elf demanded. "Is there something wrong?"
"That was terribly unpleasant." The Healer groaned. "My spell turned on me, and started a sensory feedback before I could stop it."
All of the Guard members are, if not magi, at least somewhat familiar with magic and how it works. It was unheard of for such spells to "Turn on" their caster, as they are fairly simple and inherently not aggressive. At most they would unravel.
"As soon as my spell touched his Highness, it.... Inverted." He shook his head with a quiet moan. "There is no other way I can explain it."
"Perhaps it is best to leave his Highness alone for the moment." I'olias suggested. "He is a powerful mage from what I have heard, and in his present mental state, he might lash out."
"Can you continue, or do we need to call for another healer Danath?" Asked on of the guards watching the entrance.
"I can manage Barum, thank you." Danath replied with a weak smile. He moved over to examine U'thian next. After a moment of consideration he spoke. "He's been hit by a stun rod." He announced in a puzzled voice as he stood and moved to examine Annea.
"Who would bother with a stun rod?" Asked Barum. "It's hardly an effective way to take out witnesses."
Danath sighed quietly as he finished his delving. "She's dead. It appears to be a heart attack."
I'olias' eyebrow rose questioningly. "I was under the impression that such things only happened to the elderly among humans."
Danath shook his head. "It's not a factor of age as much as it is of heart condition." He explained. "Families where heart problems are inherent, or people who do not take care of themselves can find themselves having a heart attack at a young age." He paused to consider. "They can also be induced."
I'olias' eyes narrowed dangerously. "How might this be accomplished?" He asked after a moment.
"Therone." Danath replied, his jaw tightening. "Therone slows, and relaxes the heart rate of those who take it. While this is not normally dangerous it opens the person to certain other dangers." He stopped for a moment to collect his thoughts, and then pointed to U'thian. "He was taken out with a stun rod, which means that whoever was here had one. If a stun rod is used on someone who is under the effects of therone, the shock will force the heart to try to beat faster than it is possible of doing in it's relaxed state. The effect is similar to what happens to someone who starts running without warming up first."
"A cramp." Barum supplied helpfully at I'olias' questioning look.
"Basically." Danath agreed. "The heart muscle seizes up in such a situation, and the result is almost indistinguishable from a heart attack." He shrugged. "To be honest, if it weren't for the obvious signs of a fight," he gestured at the body of Lady Emelia " I wouldn't have come to any other conclusion about cause of death. It's a perfect way to make an assassination look completely natural."
I'olias nodded thoughtfully. His eyes roamed over the inside of the Pavilion, searching for nothing in particular, hoping only to catch something that might provide a clue to exactly what happened.
Count Beladon had fled, U'thian and Prince E'rin were unconscious, Prince Ethan was almost catatonic, and not to mention Lady Annea and Lady Emelia were dead. This left him rather short of witnesses at the moment.
He began to quietly ponder who had killed Lady Emelia. 'Prince Ethan's sword was clean and clear of any blood spla-.' His train of thought slammed to a halt as he stared in stark disbelief at the sword in the human boy's hands.
Asane'ta K'sha. Symbol of House Asane'ta, The Royal sword of the Elves. The Divine artifact that would strike down those not of the Royal House of Asane'ta.
The ruler of the Kingdom of Man sat in his chair and stared. His gaze was focused on nothing in particular, and his eyes were empty. He was as still as stone, and only on close examination would one notice that this once energetic monarch was even breathing.
Kail was dead; his body just hadn't caught on yet.
No parent should have to outlive his child. Kail had outlived two. Now his adopted daughter and his only grandchild were dead.
He saw the future of his people fade into dust, for The Cycle was no more. There was no hope of redemption and it was he, Kail, who had failed his people.
A man can only take so much sometimes. Within the space of three months he was utterly without family, and the hope of his kingdom was lost with them. It was just too much for such a man to take. Kail was ill equipped to deal with such loss and perceived failure on his part.
He just stopped living, his mind shut down.
Attended only by his guards and his Healer, Kail retreated from the world.
"I don't think I'm ready for this." Andy said to A'rion.
The Pavilion was quiet, as the elves kept people well away to prevent any disturbance of the Princes' rest. Andy was sitting up in his bed with E'rin snuggled close in beside him, still sleeping through the effects of the drug which Andy had managed to shrug off.
It was difficult at first for Andy to focus. He had killed a woman with his own hands, and been unable to prevent the death of Annea, one of his first friends and teachers. Guilt and confusion had overwhelmed him and prevented him from interacting with the guards who had come to help them. Vaguely he remembered lashing out at one of them when he felt a spell forming around him. That intense, subconscious paranoia had reacted in exactly the same way as when he had turned the ork shaman's spell back onto him.
Slowly he had come to his senses as the quiet conversation of the Healer and I'olias soaked into his brain. His mind began working furiously, desperately searching for answers to what exactly had happened and why. Then would come who was responsible, and they would be made to pay.
A towering rage filled him, and threatened the tenuous control he had regained. After sharply demanding a report from the elf that had assumed command of his guard, he began to calm down. Doing something, anything, released that frustration that came with ignorance. But more than that, he needed time to think, and come up with an answer.
So it was that he ordered that he and E'rin were not to be disturbed without dire need. The importance of any requests was to be determined by I'olias. He tried to get some sleep to clear his head, but his mind was having none of that.
Shortly before Dawn, A'rion had come to the Pavilion, and briefed the furiously thinking boy. He informed him of Kail's catatonic state. He told him of how Earlon had been placed under guard after Andy had told I'olias that Beladon had been the one wielding the stun rod that killed Lady Annea, and how his wife seemed to be behind the assassination. As it had been Magister Earlon who had placed the binding spells upon the Royal Guard that bound them to their charges and prevented such assaults, he was under suspicion.
Beladon had also been brought in. Raving and unstable, he had proven to be unhelpful in getting to the truth.
For the moment, there was a lid on the situation. People were aware that something had happened, just not exactly what. Almost no one knew of the King's condition as of yet, but sooner or later it would reach the ears of Baroness duPre' and Duke Harmon.
"Your Highness, you have to understand something." A'rion said calmly. "You are the official Heir to the Throne of Man. In the event that the King is incapacitated, it is your responsibility to act as regent until such time as he recovers, or dies. In that case, you would assume the throne."
"But I'm not the Heir." Andy pointed out bluntly. "You know that as well as I do."
"Truth Your Highness." A'rion said with a shrug. "But His Majesty's orders were quite specific. You are to be treated in all ways as if you are, in fact, Prince Ethan. This being the case, you must assume his responsibilities, whether you want to or not. Besides," He continued "If you do nothing, Harmon and duPre' will be able to secure a solid powerbase unopposed. If that happens." He trailed off meaningfully.
"We're fucked." Andy finished for him.
"Colorful, but accurate." A'rion said calmly. "There is also the fact that those two know the truth that we must consider, and work around."
"And find out the truth about Earlon." Andy said. "I know in my heart he had nothing to do with this. I want the ass of whoever is behind last night's piece of work on a silver platter." He continued fiercely. "And I want it yesterday."
He sighed and leaned back, considering his options when suddenly it hit him. 'Yes,' He thought as a slow, unpleasant smile crossed his face. 'I think that will work quite well.'
A'rion's eyebrow rose at the nasty smile on Andy's face.
"I have a plan." He said simply.
True to form, rumors of the King's condition spread like wildfire, as did the assassination of Lady Annea. Rumors also circulated that the only reason that everyone else lived was that Prince Ethan had killed the bastard with his own hands.
Andy spent a fair amount of his days walking around the camp, surrounded by hard faced elf warriors, and the ever-present Sir Lance; the elves figured that if the E'teriel hadn't turned on him, he must be trustworthy. Andy used these walks to take the time to talk to, and encourage the men and women so worried about the condition of their King.
The people loved Kail, and his illness had shaken the army to its core. Each of them began to doubt themselves, for if the King could fold, how could they be expected to do any better. Their self-confidence had take a body blow, and they needed to be shown that everything was going to be all right. It was critical, for if the Army went to battle in its present state, it might very well shatter like glass.
Frequently E'rin went with him on his morale boosting walks. He wore a smile of quiet confidence, as if he knew something that no one else did. He rarely spoke, but his obvious devotion to his belshatha, spoke volumes about his commitment to the success of the army. He would point out those groups that looked to be in the most need of Royal assurance.
Andy would then approach these warriors, some fresh-faced youngsters like him while others were hardened veterans. Regardless of type, they all straightened up at his arrival. With a friendly smile Andy would look the troops over and chat about little things. Drawing stories of friends, loved ones and home from the soldiers and magi reminded them what they were here to protect. Andy would express his confidence in their ability to defend the realm and drive out the invaders.
His approach was somewhat unexpected to these people. It wasn't normal for royalty to mix with commoners, even a King as widely loved as Kail kept some distance for security reasons. But with the recent assassination, showing himself amongst the army told these warriors that their Prince felt safe and secure in their midst. His casual way of approaching them and conversing with them made them feel that he valued them as individuals, and was interested in their concerns. It also showed them that he trusted them, which could only help their confidence.
It was something he had learned from the politicians back home. Here in this world, power was held in the hands of the nobility, and those nobles curried favor with their betters and the throne as the commoners sought their favor in turn. Andy was reversing the process, for he understood the simple truth: A government rules only because it's people allow it that power. It was not blood or heritage that made one a ruler, it was the permission of the people he ruled. With his trips, Andy not only re-assured the troops, he firmly established himself as their leader in their minds.
Now that the Royal Court had begun to arrive, he might well need that loyalty to make his plan work.
It was on one of these walks that led Andy and E'rin into the area where the artisans had set up shop. Armorers, weapon smiths, boyars, fletchers, tailors and boot makers the craftsmen had come from all over to see to the needs of the army.
While it might not seem so to the casual observer, it was more than random chance that let Andy to this section of the Camp. He and E'rin moved through the hastily erected workshops, meeting and greeting the workers and masters. The support of the artisans was important too after all.
As he inspected the materials and tools of these craftsmen, and to his surprise, he discovered a great understanding of what he knew as modern chemistry and metallurgy. Without magic, man had been forced over the centuries to deepen his understanding of the physical world and how to manipulate it by hand. After the discovery of magic a deeper understanding was not only possible, it was eagerly pursued.
The Kingdom, it seemed, was ripe for an industrial revolution. They appeared to have the knowledge to build more advanced technology, but simply lacked the drive do to so. After all, why would they need such advances when magic could be used to improve their lives? In many cases, it just simply never occurred to them to apply what they knew in different ways. All it would take is a spark of inspiration.
He talked to Armorers, and discussed different armor patterns, and the utility of different metals. He described the lamellar armor used by the samurai and saw many eyes narrow in speculation as they considered his suggestions.
With weapon smiths he suggested the use of spring steel to create large bows that could be used to shoot lances into the sky as weapons against the dragons.
It was while talking to these weapon makers that he met the team of O'rion and Tel.
O'rion was an elvin smith. A master maker of swords, he had left the forests to work with humans. He felt that it was only with a blending of the two techniques would he find the way to forge the perfect sword.
Tel was one of the most radical sword makers in the Kingdom of Man. He and O'rion had clicked almost immediately, and together launched a massively successful business.
Tel's many sons and daughters worked in the smithy, turning out a large number of basic hand weapons for the soldiers, while their father and his partner worked on special projects. With his wife to manage the financial end of the business, the two smiths had become quite successful, and their name was well known.
Andy had heard from E'rin about the quality of their work. Both smiths were knowledgeable in the workings of magic, and in their projects they would incorporate subtle enchantments that would increase a blade's durability and strength. The swords that came from their hands rarely needed sharpening as they held an unbelievable edge without dulling.
They would be perfect for the project he had in mind. It was important that he project the correct image for a war leader, and that meant a proper sword.
Of the many things Andy had studied, he enjoyed kenjutsu the most. The Japanese art of the sword was in Andy's opinion the finest sword technique on Earth. He studied not just the art itself, but also the artistry that went into the creation of the sword itself. It was this artistry that he shared with the two craftsmen.
During his lessons with Earlon, he had learned how to create images in the mind of another. It was intended as a way of communication, and could be used to convey memories or active thoughts. With this spell at his disposal, he was able to slide the information on what he knew of creating a katana into the minds of the smiths as he described it to them.
The two had simply looked at each other, and nodded in quiet agreement. Andy could sense that they had not only grasped the idea firmly, but had managed to fill out the holes he had in his information. They both understood what he wanted from them.
In between these walks, he would sit in with E'rin's lessons, or talk with Earlon who remained under guard. He also looked in on Beladon who was still being kept sedated to keep him from lashing out in his madness. After using some spells he had learned from Danath and Earlon, and investigating what Emelia had on her person at the time of the assassination, he was pretty sure now what had happened.
The Royal Court was finally assembled.
The day for the great audience had finally arrived, and Andy was informed Duke Harmon had summoned the Court for the purpose of ensuring a "smooth transfer of Authority". It seemed that the Duke felt the time was ripe for him to establish himself as the central figure in the Kingdom. With the King incapacitated and the true heir dead, it would be simple to establish himself as Regent. Or so he thought anyway.
As he moved toward the gathered Court with E'rin at his side, Andy absently fiddled with the evidence he had discovered on Emelia. His left hand rested on the paired swords that rode on his hip, nestled comfortable into the cloth belt he had wrapped around his waist. It was nice that he was able to work an obi into the native dress without looking too far out of place. Many nobles wore similar sashes after all. His step was measured and sure and a slight, knowing smile was on his lips, projecting an image of confidence. He only hoped that he could keep today from turning ugly.
The Court had gathered around a pair of thrones that Andy had ordered set up for the audience. Flanking the Thrones on both sides were the Lords and Ladies that made up the Royal Council. Paladins and elf warriors stood in pairs as guards for the gathering.
The Council was the body that administered the Kingdom's day-to-day activities. It was the Council that established the Regency in the case of a lack of an Heir of suitable age. They were all chosen by the King by those he trusted to manage affairs in his absence. Today they were gathered at the request of Duke Harmon, who had expressed "concerns" as to the suitability of the Prince to assume the Regency for the King.
Spaced out were the various Dukes and Duchesses who ruled the major portions of the Kingdom. Each of these political divisions became the distinguishing title of those who ruled them. As the presumed heir to the throne, Andy bore the title of Archduke of Anthulsula. To his right were the Archduke of Hurin, Duke Hereon, the Duchess of World's End, Duchess Salidor and Duke Lockner. To his left were Duchess Jelneth, Duke Highland, Duke Kelmor, Duke Camaroon and Duke Belneth. The Counts, Barons, Knights and Viscounts that held title in their domains each stood with their respective Duke, and their attendants, in turn, accompanied them.
Duke Harmon stood near the Council, patiently waiting for the show to get underway. He was fairly sure that they boy wouldn't dare to oppose his move. After all, he was well aware that Harmon knew he was an imposter, and must believe that the Duke would unmask him if he tried to stand in the way. After he had a firm control, Harmon was positive he could cut a separate peace with the Orks by acknowledging their gains made at the expense of the elves, and pointing out that they would never be able to penetrate the defenses of the fortress city of Hereon that guarded the pass through the Hurin Mountains.
'That will end their perverted cycle,' he thought to himself 'and stop the Kingdom of Man from prostituting itself to the elves. Mankind can stand against the orks on its own, and if the elves want our protection, they will have to learn their proper place under the Kingdom of Man.'
The death of Lady Annea was terribly unfortunate. She had carried the last true Heir to the throne, and as much as Harmon opposed the Royal families policies he still held a respect for the symbol they represented. It was illogical to place so much power in their hands though. It should be the nobility that held the kingdom together; after all they were the ones who oversaw the land and industry. The Royal family should be the symbolic figurehead that would draw the love and loyalty of the people, a motivating force, not the true leaders.
Well, the young pretender would work just as well as a figurehead. Better than most really, as he had no true claim to authority. It was the perfect opportunity to turn the power over to the nobles, as it had been before the arrival of those Sorcerers a thousand years before.
His face a mask of solemn concern, Harmon watched as the pretender and his elvin paramour proceeded down the deep purple carpet which had been laid out for their arrival. He had to admit that they projected the perfect image. Confident and self-assured they made their way toward the thrones prepared for them. Both of the youngsters looked the perfect picture of Royal dignity and poise.
The pair of strange swords at the young pretender's left side drew his attention. Slightly curved like an orkish scimitar, they lacked the normal crosspiece displaying only a small, intricately carved disk to act as a hand guard. Even stranger, they were not sheathed with a standard leather scabbard. Instead they rested in what looked like ebony tubes so highly polished they shined in the sunlight. One was long, about the length of a long sword, the other the length of a short sword. Rather than a leather belt or baldric, a sash of royal purple wound around his waist held them to his side.
The two stepped onto the dais that supported their wide thrones. Simultaneously they turned about and settled into place. While Prince E'rin removed his family's sword and settled it in the rest that had been put close at hand for the purpose, the pretender kept both of his. The way they tended to stick out straight behind him allowed them to pass through the open space in the back of the chair.
Bracing himself, Harmon began to move smoothly toward the front of the thrones in order to begin his speech. It shouldn't take long to tie it all up.
Andy was familiar with butterflies in the stomach. He'd had similar feelings before the disastrous confession he had made to Scott. These butterflies however seemed to have arrived in force, complete with artillery and tank support.
Young as he was, Andy knew what stakes he was playing for this day. He knew that if things went wrong he could very well divide the human kingdom into armed camps in the midst of an ork invasion. If it dropped in the pot today, the disaster that followed would be entirely his fault. 'Well, ' he thought to himself 'here goes nothing."
He watched as Duke Harmon stepped forward, his face a grave mask fit for such a solemn occasion. He made a perfunctory bow toward the thrones in preparation pf launch into his speech, but as he straightened Andy smiled down at him and started a speech of his own.
"Thank you, Your Grace, for the concern that you have shown for the stability of the Kingdom." He began. "While you have frequently opposed His Majesty on matters of principle, I have always been confident that the good of the Kingdom is your driving motive."
'That'll be the day!' He thought to himself as Harmon's face began to harden. He knew the Duke was furious at being beaten to the punch, and would probably try to get back at him for it. Court etiquette required Harmon to bow again at the compliment, keeping him from taking advantage of Andy's pause.
"Your haste in assembling the Council is simply a continuation of that most noble policy." Andy continued before Harmon had completed his bow. "In point of fact I had several things to discuss with the Council." He gestured to a small group of figures waiting at the far end of the gathering. Two people from that gaggle of witnesses and petitioners came forth at his command.
"War is upon us my Lords and Ladies. " He went on. "And with the conquest of the Elvin forests, we find ourselves in a tight spot. Our formations will have a hard time maneuvering in the trees, Calvary charges all but impossible, and archer support will be non-existent." He sighed dramatically. "Once we push them out of the forests, their draconic allies will be able to support them in the open. We could stay here on the defensive, but if the orks manage to assemble in the open, we are faced with an even greater problem. We will be vastly outnumbered, and again there will be the Dragons to contend with."
"I assume you have a suggestion Your Highness." Duke Hereon prompted. As the noble whose lands were first in the path of the orks, his interest in anything that might be useful in keeping them out was only logical.
Andy nodded to him. "Quite so Your Grace." He answered. "In fact, these good men are here to demonstrate my suggestion." He indicated the pair that had come forward. "If you would be so kind as to enlighten the Duke."
Both men bowed low. The elder of the two spoke up. "Certainly Your Highness. Your Grace, my name is Germon. I am one of those rare breeds of craftsmen that work in more than one field. I am both a boyar and a weapon smith. When his Highness came to my workshop last week, I didn't know what to think. Then he came up with an Idea so obvious, I was astounded no one ever thought of it before."
He gestured impatiently at the younger man with him, who brought a large model out of a box. The gadget looked basically like a bow laid across a frame with wheels to allow it to row.
"I'm sure you are all familiar with the ballista." He held up the model for emphasis. "It is usually made out of wood brought down from the Duchy of Harmon." He bowed to Duke Harmon. "This is because of the high tensile strength of the trees of that northern land. His Highness however, suggested that we make the bow out of spring steel."
At this he rubbed his hands along the ballista, polishing up the steel that made up its bow. "Spring steel is usually used in catapults and trebuchets to provide greater range and accuracy. By using a spring steel bow, we have figured that we can fire a projectile the size of a heavy cavalry lance a distance 50% greater than that of the average ballista with about 25% greater accuracy." He smiled beaming with pride.
"I have little doubt that once built, these little babies will be able to punch through a dragon's hide. Even if we don't kill it with one hit, it'll sure know it's been kissed!" Germon finished his presentation.
"Thank you Goodman Germon." Andy said with an indulgent smile. He ran his eyes over the members of the Council, and the other nobles in attendance. "Make no mistake my Lords and Ladies, I have no intention of being ground into sausage by the orks. We will not surrender the lands of the elves to them anymore then we would surrender our own. I have presented a group of craftsmen with a weapon concept that will allow us to make use of concentrated fire without bows."
"Provided they are able to craft a sufficient number of them in time for our assault, they should prove fairly decisive in the coming battle." He paused to take a breath in preparation for the bomb he was about to drop.
"As of this moment, I am assuming command of the combined armies of both the Kingdoms of man and elf. Prince Erin has given me his full support in this, and will act as my second in command." At this point he stared Duke Harmon right in the eye. "Anything commands he issues have the full weight of the Throne of Man behind them." His eyes returned to their sweeping gaze of the faces looking up at him.
Duke Harmon had turned several shades of purple, and seemed on the verge of a stroke when he exploded. "We are here to discuss the Regency Your Highness!" He hissed the title as if it were foul in his mouth. "Such policy decisions will be the purview of that Regent."
Andy stood slowly, his left eyebrow cocked in an arrogant, questioning manner. 'Thank you Mr. Spock." He thought.
"I thought you had understood the implications Your Grace." Andy said, resting his hand on the swords once more. "I do not believe that a Regent is necessary at this time." He said with cold finality.
Many of the gathered nobles gasped. Surely the Kingdom could not function without Royal Authority!
"First, I do not believe that the King's condition is going to be long term. Once he has time to come to terms with the shocks he has suffered, he WILL recover." Andy started.
"What makes you qualified to judge his health?" Demanded Harmon. "His Majesty's personal Healer has no such hopes. It is not your place to make such Judgments boy!"
The Court had suddenly become very still. Though Harmon might not realize it, he had essentially just challenged the Heir's right to rule in the eyes of the Court. Such an action carried the aura of treason, and whichever way it ended, most wanted no part of such a confrontation.
Andy stood unmoving for a moment, paralyzed. Oh how Harmon reminded him of his father. So arrogant and self-righteous, so concerned with his personal view of the world that nothing else mattered. All the fear, anger and resentment that had built up in him towards his father came pouring out of him.
His eyes literally burned as energy began to leak from them. It was as if those orbs had become two small suns in their own right as his power burned with him. His frame appeared to swell, growing taller and radiating an aura of menace and invincibility.
"I am not in the habit of explaining myself to Subordinates!" Andy's voice boomed with a power greater than his vocal cords could ever produce. "You swore an oath of fealty to the throne, and to the King. His Majesty has named ME his heir Harmon, not you, and while I still draw breath, his edicts are still the Law!"
The Court recoiled in fear as he stalked off the Dias and confronted the Duke face to face. It was widely known that the Prince was a powerful mage, but no one had ever guessed he could be this powerful. Andy stopped within 10 feet of so of the Duke, staring into the eyes of his sheet white face with a merciless gaze.
With a move so fast it seemed to blur, Andy drew the Katana and pointed it at Duke Harmon. "You will follow the will of your King or I will kill you where you stand for treason." He said, his voice full of menace. "Every man and woman in this Army knows their duty, and I know they will follow me. But if you feel that your status is a burden that you cannot bear, I will be happy to relieve you of it."
The power of Andy's words drove Harmon to his knees, unable to bear the pressure of his rage. "I.... I.... "
"SILENCE!" Andy roared. "If you speak before I give you leave I will burn you to a cinder." He finished in that deathly quiet voice.
He raised his blazing eyes to the court. "There will be NO Regency. The King will recover soon." He continued in that implacable tone. "In the meantime, the Council will continue to manage the affairs of the Kingdom as they have been doing. There is no difference in the King being indisposed, and his being absent as far as ruling the Kingdom goes. Things will continue as the have been, and that is final."
He turned, sheathing his Katana, and returned to his throne. As he sat down, E'rin reached out and held onto his hand, his expression still composed.
"I'olias," Andy said firmly. "Take that away." He gestured at Harmon in contempt. "I will decide how to deal with him later."
The elf moved forward smoothly to take the stunned Duke into custody.
"Now that we have that settled." Andy went on in a much more pleasant tone. "Is there any other business which needs to be attended to?"
What do you think?
Corey