The Knight and the Peasant [FIRST DRAFT]

The Conquerors

The House of Lords sat timidly in their seats in the Chamber of the Council. It had been two weeks since the battle at the docks. The remaining sellswords had been tortured to death. And the Queen of Barbaruda herself had traveled to Grenaserrat to greet the High King of Réaltimar.

Many of the Prince-Electors were quite uncomfortable with a woman at court. Yet the queen paid them no attention and carried herself with her head held high. She radiated power. When she addressed the High King, she did not bow as was the custom.

"Your Majesty," said the Barbarudi queen, dipping her head in slight deference. Her voice was slippery and smooth, gliding over the words of the Vernacular Tongue, as was common for the Carabaí. She was a woman in the later shade of her years. Perhaps a tad older than Elias himself.

"Queen Georgiana," Peter replied, his voice tight and cold. "Have you come to swear allegiance to the Kingdom of Réaltimar?"

The queen shook her head. "Barbaruda remains a sovereign kingdom, Your Ma―"

"Then why are you here" he interrupted. "You must be quick and to the point, lest I decide to lop off your head right here and now."

The queen was slightly flustered, but she regained composure. "Barbaruda is completely willing to aid the Kingdom of Réaltimar in reclaiming the lands that are rightfully Réaltimarine."

"Pardon me, Your Majesty, but you are mistaken," declared the Lord Admiral Caelius.

What is he up to now? Elias thought.

"Oh?" the queen said.

"Indeed. These lands you speak of are rightfully Élirian lands!" announced the admiral. A murmuring of agreement passed through the Élirian Prince-Electors. There were six Élirian Prince-Electors, with Lord Admiral Caelius at their head.

"The interests of Élira and Réaltimar are one," Elias spoke up.

"Militarily and economically," the fat Lord Treasurer Emmerich spoke.

"And which lands are ours by right?" Peter spoke over his lords. His teeth were clenched and his hands were gripping the sides of his chair.

"Every Carabaí island above Barbaruda."

"What?" roared the Lord Admiral. "You would confine us to these puny lands here in the north of the Caraíbes Isles? You are mad, you pagan queen."

This time, the High Priest spoke up, "It is the duty of the Church of the Star to spread the Truth of the Five Deities. We should continue to show the rest of the Caraíbes the Truth. The Church will not fund a half-hearted attempt at subjugating the pagan lands. It is all or nothing."

Peter whipped his head around to the High Priest. "Was that a threat?"

The High Priest did not back down. "Of course not, Your Majesty. 'Tis but a promise."

There was pure fury in Peter's eyes. The High Priest was one of the few men who could not touch, for the Church stood above even the state.

Duke Hywel of Hariford stepped forward. As a Duke of Réaltimar, he was also a Prince-Elector in the House of Lords. His father had been killed in the Battle for Grenaserrat City and his family Faeblade, Starclaw, had never been retrieved. "Your Majesty... I tire of this war. We are a thousand leagues from home. And reports are filtering from Réaltimar that the Lyeonese are rioting in the streets of their cities. And even grimmer and the words from the Alfvúr Faorise. A strange shadow has fallen over the Great Forests and is toppling the Old Kingdoms."

"Has the death of your father unmanned you, Hywel?" Peter asked, sharp and cold.

Hywel did not take the insult lightly. "The capture of the princess has shaken morale amongst the levies, men-at-arms, and knights alike."

Peter slammed his fist on his chair. "So that is why we must reclaim her! I thought House Hariford bred men of steel, not ones of piss."

Hywel's hand strayed to his side, but his weapons were not there, for he had left them in his rooms when he had come to attend court. Elias did not miss the movement.

"Stay your hand, Hywel of Hariford. Lest you find yourself without one," he threatened with a low growl.

"Silence!" the High King shouted. He looked at the Queen of Barbaruda. "Forgive me, lady. These men are on the edge after the abduction of the princess and the massive storm that battered these walls before you joined us."

The Queen nodded. "Yes. I am lucky that I came from the southeast, and so I missed the hurricane. If what you and your men say is true, this is one of the largest hurricanes the Caraíbes Isles will have seen since the fall of the Seraselv Empire."

Elias remembered that it was said in Carabaí legend that when Emperor Atlantes, the Last Stormwarden had died on his bed, his sons shattered his empire and chose their pieces before his body had even cooled. On that very day, seven hurricanes had hit the Caraíbes in rapid succession, each more massive than the last. One for each of their Seven Virtues. The Season of Storms, it was called.
"But if you look out onto the bay, Your Majesty, you will see that I have brought with me two hundred ships, ranging from war galleys to galleasses, and war galleons. I have brought carracks and man-o-wars! Decked out with ballistae, catapults, and mangonels. I have brought near the entire might of the Barbarudi armada. With these ships, your men, and mine, the divided Kingdom of Sersalvon shall fall."

Emmerich tittered, evident with delight. "Divided now, yes, but for how long? The King of Sersalvon is dead, and two have risen up in his place. One the elder, the other the younger. Or perhaps it is one the bastard, and the other the trueborn. The stories vary. They say Prince Benedict has risen up against his brother, the supposed rightful heir. He claims Francisco is a child born of an affair between the King's brother and his wife. He rose up during the coronation and took the Serpent Crown from Francisco and placed it on the head of blood, death, and cold steel. A slew of lords, counts, and viscounts have declared for Benedict, led by the Duchess of Veroña. Even now, her host of sellswords, men-at-arms, and knights march for the high walls of Navitium and her armada sails for the Bahíea delle Crystallios. The Bay of Crystals. How long before the City of Ships falls and the rest of the Kingdom of Sersalvon bows down to the ambitious prince."

Peter looked at Emmerich sharply. "How do you know all this?"

Emmerich smiled. "I am the High Lord Treasurer, Your Majesty. It is my duty to find any profit available for Réaltimar. And information is such a profitable trade."

"Why didn't you say any of this before?"

"Such sweet songs have only just reached my ears, Your Majesty."

Peter gave Emmerich a suspicious look before tearing his gaze away back to the Queen of Barbaruda. "I shall accept your ships and men. We shall prepare for an invasion of Rivièrra."

"Rivièrra?" The Barbarudi queen was shocked. "It holds no immediate value, Your Majesty. We must strike at Veroña whilst we have the chance. The Florjes Armada and host are out to besiege Navitium if your Treasurer tells true. Veroña is one of the largest and perhaps most powerful duchy in all of Sersalvon. Conquering the Duchy of Flowers will give us even more leverage to strike wherever we wish."

Peter put up a hand to silence her. Elias watched as the boy who sat on the High Chair silenced a foreign queen who had probably ruled for a decade or more. But no longer. Réaltimar was dominant here. "This is not up for discussion, my lady." Gone with the courtesies of Your Majesty. "The man who kidnapped my sister came from Rivièrra, and so Rivièrra shall suffer. If these Carabaí-folk wish to play with storms and ships, I shall give them fire. Northern fire."