Keepers of the Realm

Jerys

Voices echoed around the halls of the high council tower, a grand building constructed during the rain of Queen Kaella the Spiteful. Pillars of polished marble fashioned on either side of the room with a marble stone long table between them.

"I heard Lord Geemon has sired a fifth bastard!" chuckled Lord Ripley, a portly man with darkened skin and locks of long golden blonde hair.

"You and your gossip, speak no more of Lord Geemon. He's served the realm faithfully all his life" Lord Meryl, the king's high commander replied with a stern voice.

"The words faithful and Lord Geemon in the same sentence? HA!" Lord Ripley snapped back.

"Damned fools," Jerys thought to himself.

Jerys the poor, the council often called him. A man of thirty-four, Jerys had made his way from the dirt-ridden streets of the Hypereen capital to the King's council. He was a man of few words, below average height with curls of black hair as dark as the night. He often preferred to observe rather than speak, as when he did his words were ever more meaningful. He was named King Lothian's principal diplomat and often found himself travelling the realm, settling disputes and negotiating trade deals.

The doors of the great hall swung open and Ser Lukan, adorned in golden armour with a black crown decorating his helm spoke.

"His Grace, King Lothian Blackmon the second!"

The council stood at once and bowed as the old king strode towards his seat on the council, his throne-keeper knight following close behind.

"Be seated" the king said in a commanding voice, taking a seat himself.

"Where in gods name is my dammed son?" He bellowed. "Ser Lukan, find the fool and tell him his king commands he takes his seat on the council".

The throne-keeper knight nodded in acknowledgement, yet as he turned to leave, the council chamber doors flung open and slammed against the walls.

"Beloved father! Apologies for my tardiness, I was busy with another matter" he said nonchalantly, walking past Jerys and taking a seat opposite King Lothian.

"Busy doing what? Disgracing yourself and the family with that witch of yours?" The King asked with a stern look.

Prince Lothyn did not respond but grinned at his father, his pale white hands tapping the table. Jerys despised Prince Lothyn, a boy of nineteen. He was deceptive and cruel, yet loved by the common people who did not know his true nature.

"Right, enough of that, let's begin. Lord Meryl, what news of Assetie?"

Queen Kaella had created the high council as a means for the mundane, small matters of rule to be relegated to an unfortunate Lord, although the council was kept when King Lothian ascended the throne as a means for him to be briefed on important matters.

"The Lorey forces have gained significant ground this past year, employing sellswords to besiege castles and cities while the main army harasses Gescaii supply lines" Lord Meryl answered.

"Good. Double our support to the Kingdom of Lorey, let's end this damn war".

The war in Assetie had caused trade between the two lands to almost entirely cease, and New Hyperiar was suffering by proxy.

"Your grace, would it not be wiser to perhaps wai-" The king cut his response short.

"Lord Ripley, how much longer can the realm cope without Assetie imports?".

Lord Ripley opened a thick, dusty book and scrambled to find his page. "At our current production levels your grace, I estimate two years, perhaps less. The capitol itself however has provisions to last five years, comfortably" he answered.