On The Edge Of A Golden World: Anne Boleyn Lives On

Lost Your Way

Around the fire sat a group of soldiers as they rested from their hunt for their dinner. The King sat in his warm tent, with a already prepared meal instead of eating with his men as they thought he would. They been on a campaign against the Spainards for a month or two, brought by the King's new desire to expand English influence Spain. Unlike the previous years, the youngest Prince wasn't leading the charge or even joining the campaign. He was instead left behind with the court to rule in the King's place.

"My brother is no longer needed on the battlefield when I am present." The young King spoke as he rode with his army. The general wanted to argue otherwise, seeing how his majesty failed to lead in war since before his father, the Late King Henry's death. His brother was the warlord of England and he held the respect of the English army, unlike the King, who was a stranger to the ways of war. "Majesty, perhaps you should remain at camp, until we've secured the frontline battle." Tugging in his horse, the King glared at his general. "Nonsense, I will fight on the frontline beside you, M'Lord."

That day the King was lucky to make it out of the fight alive. After three barely missed arrows and five ambushes, he and his men were sent on retreat. He was so embarrassed he found himself isolated inside his tent for the night, unable to face his soldiers. From what he heard his brother never was sent retreating. For the King to fail to lead his men to a victory they usually won with his brother was a bad look on his part. He'd never earn the respect of his men if he couldn't fight.

Outside the men groaned in frustation that God had sent them such a foolish King. Some questioned what happened to the amazing swordmen the King once was as a child, others wondered why they even bothered to serve such a weak King. England is going to be the laughing stock of Europe when the campaign ended, the General thought to himself. He needed to help the young King before he got hisself killed.

The following battle the Genral stayed beside the King, defeating every thing that came their way. They fought to the end and won the battle winning new land for England to claim. The King set up camp, foaming over the fact he didn't defend hisself, instead of having a personal body guard. This was suppose to be his chance to show off his skills, yet his men didn't trust him to survive a single battle without their help.

"Don't put yourself in harms ways, Majesty. You are too important to risk." The genral plead with the angry ruler as he tossed aside his armor. "Why Am I even here if I cannot fight?" The Genral picked up the sword and placed it at the King's feet. "To play the part..." His Majesty jumped to his feet and stood eyeto-eye with his army leader. "Menaing?" Unafraid to speak his mind the older man, pushed to King away slightly. "You are here to play the role of a dutiful King who's willing to die for his men. In truth, you must stay away from the frontline otherwise you will be killed before we return back to England. I will cannot continue to lose men because of your desperate attempt to earn the respect of the soldiers."

"You cannot speak to me this way." Rolling his eyes, he pulled the young ruler by the edge of his shirt. "I've seen the reign of more than three King's. Dumb ones. Smart ones. Arrogant ones. And now a worthless one. You are a King who knows nothing about the proper way to rule. Real power doesn't come just because you are into a royal family, you must earn that power. As of now you are a King with little power, no respect from your people and no loyal friends. Wales will only back you until your brother shows them why they shouldn't. And well he doesn't need to try hard."

That was the last word before the old man pushed the ruler to the ground before storming out of the tent. His majesty brought his hand to his throat, feeling like he couldn't breathe. No one spoke to him that way expect his family. Now he knew his power was dwelling. He knew it was little to no time before his reign was over. His own general was ashamed of him. Nothing was going as planned. His end was coming.