The Burden of Honour

Untitled Part 1

A blood red sun beat upon the ebon steed's lustrous mane as it stamped its hoof upon the chapped earth and flared its nostrils. War was brewing in the airs of Bellorussi and the agitated beast could sense its ominous approach. The rider soothingly ran his leathered hand over his steed's neck to pacify him. The horse lowered his head, yet still casting a baleful glare upon the regal cavalry that had rode out to this isolated hilltop to meet the black suited rider.

The rider of the ebony steed faced the brigade of four soldiers that had accompanied the ornately decorated Commander. His brown eyes fixed a solemn scowl upon the gold and white armoured leader. They had agreed to a private meeting. Yet this change of heart was no great surprise, honour was a virtue the Commander had long forgotten.

"Glad that you could join us, Marcus," the commander spoke cordially as he steadied his white steed with the reigns.

"Victor," replied the black-clad rider curtly.

"That's King Victor traitor!" roared an archer beside the Commander.

"At ease Captain Stone," Victor replied mildly bemused. "I am sure we can excuse Marcus's lack of decorum given the current situation we find ourselves in."

Marcus scoffed at Victor's claims.

"You wear that title so proudly yet this current situation is an indictment upon how poorly you enact it."

"The peasants chose this fate for themselves. I have been a fair and just ruler in my time yet they choose to rebel and you collude with them. I should order my archers to slay you right now."

"The people are dying under your rule yet you turn a blind eye to their plight. Your court has taxed them to the brink of survival. They are taxed for the pittance of gold they slave each day in your fields to earn. You tax them on the substandard grain you fling upon them while hoarding the best of their harvests. There is a tax for their use of your roads, their visits to the capital to earn a meagre wage and even a tax for the children that they bear and struggle to raise beneath your iron fist. All the while you sit in your ever growing palace, basking in the sheen of your hoarded gold and revelling with the nobles who helped you oust King James. So tell me Victor, where in any of that have you ruled fair or justly?"

Victor's blue eyes glared at Marcus as a snarl crossed his flawless face.

"How dare you stand there and preach to me about righteousness you sanctimonious bastard! Not too long ago you enjoyed the hospitality of my court as a Knight in my service. Yet you became smitten by a common whore that pilfered from my treasury and turned against me after her execution. For all your virtue, where is your loyalty?"

"My loyalty was misguided in trusting your command, Victor. Kirana was a simple lady who only sought enough gold to feed her children, yet you mercilessly slew her in the town square. Where then was your loyalty to the promise you made? We swore a solemn vow to the realm when we took arms with the Knighthood. We were to protect the innocent and uphold justice."

"I do not need you to remind me of what a Knight's sworn promise is. I carried forth my duty with valour and exemplary performance. Why do you think I became the youngest commander of the Royal Army?"

"Yet you corrupted your purpose, your very core even when you murdered the King."

The other soldiers tightly drew on their reigns at the mention of this.

Although it was well known that Victor's rise to power had been a path painted in blood and cunning deviousness, it was an inconvenient truth that few dared utter. Partly due to Victor's tendency to publicly execute any who mentioned this history.