A fantasy novel centering on a power struggle for control of the kingdom of Riverford. |
Chapter 1 "Dark days have come and gone. War has ravaged our family almost to the point of decimation. We have successfully weathered the storm of that war to stand victorious, our enemies dead at our feet," Rikard Sarris, Duke of Norford, said to Temil, his attendant, as the mute boy helped him dress for the day. Rikard stood tall and lanky as he looked into the large silver mirror, but he did not like what he saw there. He slouched a bit and his left shoulder was much higher than his right. Rikard was not blessed with the rugged good looks of his brother Addard, the King of this realm. Nor was he blessed with the strength and battle prowess of his brother Gregor. He always seemed to live in the shadows of his older brothers, and he resented them for it. No matter what Rikard himself had done, he was always remembered as Addard's youngest brother or Gregor's tag along. "We have ascended to power. The white rose stands in Elysium and thrusts a defiant breast out to the Lelani's and dare them to strike. But they cannot. Gone is their strength. The best of what they had now decays, rotting in their tombs, never to rise in power again," Rikard continued, frowning as he looked at himself in the looking glass before him. His eyes always found his left shoulder first. He would stare at it as if he could correct his malformity with the power of his will alone. But alas, it was not to be. Never did his back straighten or his shoulders level. It was the same each time he gazed into a mirror, so he tended to avoid them whenever possible. Rikard was not an ugly man, nor was he handsome like his brothers. He was twisted of frame and that made Rikard think of himself as ugly. Whenever he looked into a mirror all Rikard saw was the bent form he wished desperately to change. For years Rikard had gone to healers and alchemists alike in hopes of correcting his crooked back. Some treatments administered to the Duke seemed silly to him, Rikard knew before they started treatment that they would not work. Other treatments were painfully cruel. One healer laid Rikard upon the rack and tried to pull the Dukes spine into alignment. None of these remedies had worked, but Rikard Sarris was desperate to have a normal frame. Temil helped his lord step into a deep blue set of knitted silk stockings before the Duke continued. "Death himself has lost his look of consternation and laughs uproariously at the plight of those around him. Instead of charging headlong into the vicious current of battle and carnage, he does mischief in a young woman's bedchamber. Sweet music dancing as if upon the air softens the atmosphere he chooses to immerse himself in. He laughs and makes merry. He drinks and eats. He loves," the Duke told the boy as he helped his lord into a deep red loose fitting shirt and blue sleeveless doublet with deep red pleats emblazoned with a white rose, the sigil of Clan Sarris. "But alas, I am not made for these gayer times. The mirror is not kind to me as it seems Pestilence is always there, staring back, mocking me. I am not made for frolicsome tricks nor made to look fair within a looking glass. I am crudely made and lack loves grandeur. I am curtailed of even symmetrical looks. I limp as I walk. Dogs even bark at me as I pass! I have no pleasures in this life except to see mine own shadow in the sun and rue upon my fraudulent imitation of human features! Charm is lost upon me and I sometimes find my words clumsily at best!" he shouted before taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. He did not intend to be so brusque with the boy. Temil was a good lad and he served his lord well. To his credit, Temil never even flinched whenever Rikard would fly off into a blind rage. Rikard smiled at Temil and then stepped into a red pair of leather shoes. "But my mind is sharp, honed to a razors edge on the stone of study. My nerves cool as my machinations see fruition. Since I know I'll never be a lover, I tend to prove villainous and improve upon my newly found status," Sir Rikard continued as he fastened a belt of leather about his waist and placed a large plumed beret upon his head. He looked down at the boy then and ruffled his sandy mop of hair. Temil's tongue had been removed some five years before by his drunken father. Rikard thought the boy must have given the man some smart response or other, though Rikard could not imagine the boy doing so. "Plotting a rise to power consumes my waking mind. Schemes of prognosis, lies, and illusions invade my dreams and I obsess over the power I see in others. I covet it. It calls to me. Even in my sleep, it calls to me! And I answer. With a lion's roar would I answer were it prudent. But, it seems subtlety best suits my cause. So I'll practice subterfuge to weaken mine enemies and leave them vulnerable to unforeseen attack. For I intend to set my brothers, Addard and Gregor, the one against the other, in a deadly competition only I can win. And if Addard proves to be as even handed and dependable as I am inconspicuous, beguiling, and deceitful, then Gregor will have little time left alive," he finished looking for any sign of comprehension on the mute boys face. Satisfied that the boy understood he turned and began to make his way out of his home within the fortified city of Elysium, the capital of the kingdom of Riverford, and into its bustling streets. Rikard walked the streets of Elysium. He passed by the thick wall and watch towers that ringed some of the oldest parts of the inner city. This is where the most affluent citizens of the capital lived. This entire section of the city was the second bailey for Elysium's original castle. These battlements were Elysium's original protective wall, now these walls, twelve feet thick, served as a last line of defense within the city keeping the nobles and most well to do merchants safe from the marauding bands of outlaws that had nearly crippled Elysium several times during its storied past. A mere twelve feet separated Rikard and the poorest denizens of Elysium. Just on the other side of these walls was Elysiums first bailey, its craftsmen, its tradesmen and the mott that raised the Keep of Elysium above it all. Originally the fortified city was not a city at all. It was a defensive structure, a fort on the frontier of an emerging kingdom. Thick, nearly impenetrable forests ruled by marauding bands of thieves held the upstart kingdoms of this land at bay for centuries. Riverford was one of many kingdoms vying for dominance of this island just across the Sea of La Manche from the ancient kingdom of Bethany. Centuries before, ten different kingdoms fought one another in the Southern section of the island alone. As a result many different cities began to spring up around frontier fortifications on the borders of these kingdoms, each hacked from the thick mountain forests of this land. All of these castles over time sprouted villages. These villages became cities. These cities became fortified as they grew. Newer walls were built in concentric rings surrounding older walls as the cities expanded making each city a defensive marvel, each one different from the next as geography dictated. All of the cities in these fledgling kingdoms had to deal with crime, and with most of these emerging realms banishment into the wilds was the preferred method of dealing with most crimes. These upstart kingdoms produced their share of brigands as their wealth began to grow. Outlaws began living in the woods just outside the city they were banished from preying on those found to be vulnerable as they traveled along forests roads. These outlaws fled North when they realized that the kingdoms were, while still warring with each other, attacking the bandits in attempts to keep their merchant caravans safe. Bands of thieves were being arrested and forced into the armies of the newly formed kingdoms. So they moved on and took up residence within the forests of the Wild Lands, North of the kingdoms. As their numbers grew they began making raids upon the kingdoms of the South. Some outlaws began to command large groups of men, all exiled from one kingdom or another. Some of these bands became very powerful and their leaders were becoming rich off of the goods stolen from the merchant caravans that traded goods between the kingdoms. As these rich men became more powerful, they began creating their own cities in the northern Wild Lands of this island. A loose confederation of outlaw bands emerged and for eight hundred years they held the emerging kingdoms at bay. One of these kingdoms, Riverford, had always been rich with the gemstone amethyst. The deep violet stones were popular all over the island and the kingdom's jewelers became the best in the land at setting gemstones of all sorts into gilded jewelry for the wealthy. This made the Kingdom of Riverford the wealthiest of all the nations upon this island. But that was before Martel Hammer came to the throne of Riverford. Hammer made the nation the most powerful. He came to power at a young age when his father the king died, three hundred and ten years before Addard Sarris sat upon the throne. He was an ambitious young man that was brought up in Rivereford's military cult of the time. A warrior king was always commander of Riverford's armies. Its king always fought alongside his men to gain their respect and allegiance. But Martel Hammer was also an ambitious man. He began demanding improvements in quality of arms offered by the kingdoms weapon smiths. He began ordering merchants to begin searching the kingdoms lands for iron ore. Soon rich deposits were found. Iron , too, turned out to be abundant in Riverford and it's alchemists were clever enough to add carbon to their iron during smelting, producing steel. Steel produced better, stronger weapons and armor. Martel Hammer became a conquering king before he had seen his eighteenth summer. His army defeated an invading force from another kingdom. As his cavalry swept towards the cities of this enemy realm, his spies mingled in with the fleeing peasants that were seeking refuge within the cities. These spies wreaked havoc upon the citizens of the city, sabotaging the water and food supplies from within even as King Martel's men laid siege to them from without. When the time was right, these spies attacked the cities from within killing all that tried to stop them from opening the cities gates, admitting the rest of King Martel’s troops. It did not take long for Martel Hammer to overtake every other kingdom of this island. On his twenty fifth birthday, Martel Hammer was sovereign king of the only realm South of the Wild Lands. King Martel then turned his gaze upon the brigands that had preyed upon the trade goods of his kingdom for far too long. He began an overly long and costly war upon the confederation of outlaw bands that lived in the northern forests. Many men were killed and much gold was spent. By the time Martel died in his sleep at the age of sixty, the realms coffers were nearly emptied of gold, but the kingdom of Riverford now took up the whole of what they called "Our Island". Rikard walked the streets of Elysium with guards from Clan Sarris at his side. It wasn't that Rikard couldn't protect himself, quite the contrary. The Duke was deadly quick in short bursts, but was no good in an overly long drawn out fight. He just couldn't maintain his viper like speed for too long at one time, crooked back and all. Besides, he had gotten used to their presence over the past several years and was loathe to be without them even now in a time of peace. Each man wore deep blue tunic emblazoned with the white rose sigil of the clan over striking red ringmail. They topped it off with a conical half helms over red ringmail mantles. The men walked in time with Rikards shambling pace. It was difficult to get used to, but perfected it gave the guards plenty of time to react were Rikard ever attacked. They passed vendors of all sorts and was assaulted by the smells and sounds of the busy city. As they walked Rikard saw a juggler on a unicycle entertaining a small throng of people for the coppers they threw at him. Here he saw a troupe of actors as they performed for other denizens of Elysium. Over there a baker had a young child by the arm, accusing the lad of stealing bread. Rikard and his guards wove an irregular pattern through the mass of people. Some of which busied themselves by selling their goods. Others were preoccupied with gathering needed provisions. He smelled roasted meat for sale and wondered how long ago it had been cooked and what type of animal it had once been. He curled his upper lip, turned up his nose and frowned again as he made his way past booths filled with silk and bolts of rich fabric, spices, and arms. Rikard heard a lute playing bawdily, its notes rising above the grit and grime of the city streets as he made his way toward the Keep of Elysium where his brother, King Addard held court. As he walked Rikard busied his mind with memories of the not so distant past. He remembered the day, over ten years ago, when his brother Addard and his men forcibly entered the Keep of Elysium in triumph. Many of Henri Lelani's supporters were still in court then. His brother Addard and his men rounded up all the members of that court and forced them upon pain of death to swear allegiance to Addard Sarris. He was King Addard from that day forth. He remembered how proud his brother was with his victory over King Henri Lelani and his troops. He remembered how he and his brothers related the tale of the battle to those gathered in the throne room of Elysium, King Addards new court. Rikard Sarris told them of how they had met King Henri's troops upon an open meadow at the foot of the Northern Mountains. The battle had been hard won and King Henri stole away from his men and escaped the warriors of Clan Sarris by abandoning his men in a last ditch effort to save his own life. Sarris' cavalry chased him North until they lost his trail within the deep alpine woods of Riverford. Lelani's lieutenants rallied the rest of his men for a final attack on Sarris' front lines. This suicide attack was an attempt to keep any more of Clan Sarris from chasing after their King, in hopes that King Henri would be able to raise another army and keep his kingdom intact. King Henri's men charged headlong into Addard Sarris' front lines and smashed through with their cavalry. But their success was short lived as their horses fell upon the spears Addard Sarris had hidden in the high grass before his second line. Henri Lelani's knights were then butchered by Clan Sarris as they quickly fell upon the helpless knights before they could regain their footing. It was the same when Addard and his men had entered the keep. Many of those loyal to their former king tried to run and were butchered by King Addard's swordsmen. Those that stayed swore fealty to King Addard. "Elysium did not live up to its name that day," Rikard Sarris chuckled to himself. A few of the guards looked at Rikard then, who seemed lost in his own little world. The guards of Clan Sarris were used to Rikard's odd behavior. He always seemed to be muttering plans to himself or laughing aloud at some private joke. Many of the guards thought him mad when they first encountered the tall, wiry, bent figure of Rikard Sarris. But it did not take long for them to see that the Duke was no man's fool. With an acid tongue would he admonish any guard that showed even the slightest sign of mental weakness or incompetence. He demanded a sharp mind as well as a sharp blade for his protection and he would not keep any man that did not exhibit both in his employ for long. A sharp blade was needed because Riverford was a kingdom with more wild spaces than cities. Riverford was an island kingdom of alpine forests with many rivers. Outlaws and brigands roamed the woods and would attack unwary travelers along it's roads at will. King Addard had reigned in many of the worst brigands, making the roads far safer than they were under Henri Lelani, but they still weren't all safe for unprotected caravans of merchants that traveled it's roads as they made their way from city to city hawking their wares, and as a result fortified cities sprang up along the fords of its many rivers. A sharp mind was needed because Riverford was a kingdom in every sense of the word, with all the problems of a wild realm. Roads needed repair from time to time. Merchants cried out for justice when attacked upon the roads. Quarrels erupted between its citizens. But even more problematic was the court of Riverford. No one at court was to be taken at face value. Every man and woman was ambitious and looking for any weakness that could be exploited to their own betterment. Rikard knew this better than anyone. He decided in his youth that, should he ever enter the kingdoms court, he would place spies in every clan, every brothel, every tavern and anywhere else he might gain knowledge of what others were doing. Because of this, nothing happened in Riverford without Rikard's foreknowledge. The Duke came back to himself, his thoughts on the here and now as he neared the main thoroughfare of the fortified city. It would not be long now he thought as they came ever closer to the Keep. The first part of his plan was either underway at that exact moment, he thought, or it soon would be. He could not believe that Addard would take too much time in arresting a traitor to the crown. Even if that traitor were his own brother Gregor Sarris, next in line for the throne of Riverford. If he misread King Addards intentions, Rikard would stoke the king's hatred of their brother so as to make no question of his intentions. Gregor would see the inside of Riverford's dungeons before the end of the week at the latest. It should not take much more time to see his brother executed, leaving Rikard himself as next in line to wear the Amethyst Crown. Rikard Sarris had decided long ago, upon seeing that crown upon his brother Addard’s head, that the crown would eventually rest upon his own brow. He began planning then. Rikard decided that he would heap worry upon his brother’s shoulders in an attempt to quicken the king’s demise. If he could cause that worried mind to snap then he could foresee the king’s death following not long after and the crown would pass to another. What better way to hurry the collapse of a troubled mind than to turn the king’s hatred upon his loving brother Gregor? He would whisper rumors into his brother’s ears, all the while disavowing belief in such rumors. In this way he would cloak his naked villainy in an attempt to point the accusing eye away from himself. He would do anything he could to defame is older brother Gregor and ensure that the crown would pass to himself after the king’s death. This was the only plan he could contrive that had any chance of success. It was vital that he be the one to plant these thoughts in his brother’s mind. Were he to try and enlist someone else for the task that person could always attach blame to the Duke. Rikard had to be the one to do this distasteful deed. Disavowing belief in these rumors he created was the only way he could attach that blame to others. Rikard felt certain that his plans were foolproof as long as he kept calm and didn’t let his emotions take control. He needed to appear calm in the eyes of others if he were to assure that blame would adhere itself to those he meant to defame. If he were unsuccessful in this attempt other’s would see him for the conniving conspirator he truly was. He could not have that until after Riverford’s crown rested safely upon his brow. And by then, it would be too late for anyone to do anything about it. |