An Angel Called Eternity

To Bet on Losing Dogs - Rhema IV: The Mists of Autumn

Rhema IV: The Mists of Autumn

The Twenty-Eighth Day of the Ninth Moon, 873 AD.
Stagspring, Central Owkrestos, Klironomea.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Rhema stared on with incredulity at his brother. He was dressed in the same sort of leather armour that Rhema tended towards wearing, only duller and more worn. He looked like he belonged in the camp that Symon's boys stayed in, not the royal court. Neither did the man who stood besides him for that matter, who wore a very similar garb despite appearing to be somewhere around twice his brother's age. The man apparently was, or rather had been, the fucking Triarian King. And he'd just... given Lykourgos his crown. Rhema hadn't known his brother to be one for negotiation with those he saw as enemies, but then if this royal had reached out before any sort of conflict had taken place... yes, that would probably stay his brother's hand from violence.

"There's no lie here, your Highness."

"My title is 'your Grace' at the moment. Until my brother has a kid of his own, that is. Not that I particularly care for titles. Anyways, this whole fucking situation is madder than a spring hare. You mean to tell me the two of you just... went to an inn, had a few drinks, and now you've sworn fealty to my brother?"

"It was a little more complicated than that," Lykourgos interjected, "but yeah, that's the broad strokes of it. Lord Sigiros has talked much with me about future plans, and I am pleased to have learned that many of his ambitions line up with mine. We have entered into a true partnership."

Somehow Rhema doubted that. Maybe he was just being paranoid, maybe he was letting the memories of Lieutenant Isen get to him, but he really doubted that the ex-king was being completely honest with his older brother. Lykourgos had intellect and ambition, drive too, but the man stood to his left had the experience that came with age. Ernest his words may have been, and perhaps many of his ambitions truly did line up with those that his brother carried, but Rhema suspected that there were other ambitions hidden below the surface. He suspected that there were ambitions that none would learn of until they came to pass, or ones that might remain buried for decades more and never spoken of until the opportunity arose.

You could take the title away from a man, but you could never take away the ambition that titles once gave. It was only his love for his brother that stopped Rhema from dreaming on what might have been at times, even if he had hated sitting on the throne whilst he'd been king. That was just what memory did to you, especially when said memory was as patchy and false as his. It made the past seem better or worse than it was, and Rhema had no doubts in his mind that he was certainly remembering his time as king to be far nicer than it was. He wasn't cut out for kingship and he knew it, but most didn't. The question remains, therefore: does this man mean to betray my brother?

Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. Rhema couldn't very well act straight away with no evidence, but he would definitely be writing to the Master of Silver and telling him in no uncertain terms that he didn't trust this man, and that he needed to be watched. At least that might give them all some warning before treason came around.

"You seem discontented at my presence by your brother's side, your Grace. Have I done something to offend you?"

Rhema shook his head swiftly, recognising that he at least needed to appear civil in front of everyone.
"No, you haven't. I'm just wondering what you hope to gain from my brother. From this deal you've made with him. What could be worth giving away half your kingdom, and your sovereignty for that matter?"

The man smiled at him, not in a threatening or manic way, but in a genuinely earnest and amused manner.
"What else but gold, boy? What else could make a man give up his kingdom save riches beyond compare? The lands of the Arthaxan Plateau are rich in iron and coal. The riches I will gain by becoming the main provider of weapons, tools, and armour to the armies of your brother will far outstrip all the taxes and tithes placed on me by becoming a vassal. Now if I were to stand against your brother then there's a very real chance I'd lose everything, and my family would be destitute. Swearing myself to your brother in peace, however? That brings with it no risk. I am free to see to my manufactories and business links, becoming one of the richest men in this new kingdom. As for my loyalties, why would I ever seek to turn against his Grace when this partnership promises to be so lucrative? As his kingdom grows, so too will my wealth. That's what was worth giving away half my kingdom for. The world is changing, and we in Triarios know it well. I'd rather my family sit besides the victor when the smoke clears. I'd rather we grow strong alongside the next generation than fade into nothing against them. That is why I swore myself to your brother."