Forced Into Tyranny

8: Conspiracy

Thevalon Castle,
Throng-Hall II.

New days always bring new possibilities, or so they say. What did today bring? Lord Bailiff Syagros pondered as he stood by the window, gazing at the sandstone wall, his eyes locked on the radiant sun setting behind the faraway mountain peaks. The vast expanse between him and those peaks was filled with scorching sand dunes and prickly cacti that jutted up from the earth like spiky sentinels. In the distance, he could make out the silhouette of a lone rider, traversing the dunes on a dromedary camel. He watched as the rider grew farther, until it disappeared.
As the council of peerage gathered for a meeting with their king, rumblings echoed through the hall. Syagros, a key member of the decision-making team, walked and conversed with the king, always present and involved. Truth be known, Syagros seemed to be everywhere, from Elderham to the castle to Rusthelm town, always busy with a myriad of affairs. Good, bad, or somewhere in between.
The Queen was on the table, so were her second and third sons, Kōgon and Rørikus. She had demanded they came for this meeting as it seemed the Galterius rule was hanging by a thin thread.
Kōgon towered above, his locks a rich, dark brown cascade. His eyes gleamed like molten gold, his visage chiseled and regal. In contrast, Rørikus, three years his junior, possessed a slender frame, tousled sandy hair, and eyes akin to shards of ice. Quick-witted and sharp-tongued, he wielded sarcasm with finesse. These brothers, a bewitching paradox, embodied a captivating bond of loyalty and love, or so it seemed to those who observed.
With great fanfare, the words "Your Regal Majesty!" reverberated through the hall, accompanied by the synchronized rising of every attendee. The atmosphere was electric as they eagerly welcomed the entrance of King Hagnon, their voices echoing with respect and admiration.
Hagnon, exuding regal authority in every step, strode towards his designated seat. With a commanding presence, he took his place at the head of the expansive table, while his loyal idle-left-hand graciously pulled out his chair. It was only after this ceremonial act that the parliament members resumed their seats.
"Mayor Syagros, speak your concerns," the king commanded, his gaze piercing Kōgon. The presence of Kōgon puzzled him. Rørikus, a mere child, posed no threat to his reign. His mother's involvement with Kōgon indicated a crossing of boundaries. Refocusing on Syagros, he inquired, "You assert to my mother that there is unrest in the north once more."
Syagros nodded gravely, his voice filled with concern. "Aye, Your Majesty. The lords in Asheville are in disarray. Three noble estates were engulfed in flames last night, resulting in the tragic loss of eight lives. The rebels persist in their relentless pursuit, driven by some bizarre motive." Pausing briefly, he continued, "This morning, word reached me that your decree summoning warriors has caused unrest in Rusthelm. The common folk are questioning why the slaves are being called to the castle instead of them..."
As Hagnon absorbed the litany of issues presented by Syagros, a wave of frustration washed over him. It seemed that there was no respite from the constant stream of challenges and setbacks. The six months of his reign had indeed been marred by a series of misfortunes and difficulties. The weight of responsibility bore heavily on his shoulders, and he felt disheartened by the seemingly never-ending string of setbacks.
"What do you reckon, Kōgon? What could be driving these rebels?" the king inquired, turning to his brother.
What insolence. Kōgon wanted to pick up his cup of wine and toss it across the table to the king. Perhaps no one else could see the bad blood between them, they themselves felt it like a leash on their skin.
Kōgon clenched his fist, suppressing the urge to lash out. He took a deep breath, trying to maintain composure. "Their motives remain elusive, brother," he responded, his voice strained. "But it seems they seek to disrupt the stability of our rule, to challenge our authority and sow chaos."
Hagnon's laughter reverberated through the room, drawing disapproving glances. He was well aware of his brother's rebellious nature, causing him to ponder whether it was a veiled threat to his reign or Kōgon's perspective on the true insurgents. Nonetheless, King Hagnon couldn't resist chuckling and rising from his seat.
"Well done, my son," Queen Morgana commended Kōgon, her words whispered in silent approval. "You shall make a splendid mayor." She turned her gaze towards the king, her expression serious. "The rebels seek to claim the crown. Though we stripped them of their power years ago, they continue to grow in numbers. This only amplifies the threat they pose."
"Were that true," the king mused, "then we would have to rethink our entire strategy. However, I have my doubts."
He paced back and forth across the room, his brow furrowed in thought. The parliamentary committee watched him quietly, waiting for him to continue.
"If the rumors are to be believed," the king went on, "then we could be facing an even greater threat than we anticipated. But I must see more evidence before I can proceed."
Lord Mayor Syagros and a few other members nodded thoughtfully, considering the king's words. "I understand your skepticism, Your Majesty," he said. "But if the rumors are true, we must be prepared for anything."
The king stopped pacing and turned to face Syagross. "I agree," he voiced out with a resolute nod. "However, I must first know what we are up against. I want to send out scouts to investigate these rumors."
"I shall take charge of the reconnaissance," Kōgon offered. "Once this gathering concludes, we shall embark on our mission. If the reports of the rebels' resurgence are accurate, they must have a specific objective in mind. If we are well aware of their desires, then we possess the means to combat them."
Amidst their mirth and camaraderie, they delved into discussions on armaments, covert operations, the king's pursuit of a suitable bride, and strategies to bolster their coffers. As the conversation wore on, weariness settled in, and the meeting eventually came to a close, dispersing the attendees.
Within the hall, Morgana, Hagnon, and Kōgon remained. Rørikus, uninterested in matters of the crown, trailed closely behind Syagros and the door closed them out.
"What is the purpose of this, Mother?" the king inquired. "Including Kōgon in the parliament meeting is unacceptable. Let him engage in swordplay with the guards, go horseback riding, or anything else, but keep him away from castle affairs."
"You are worse than a mad king," fired Kōgon. "Whatever comes out of your mouth is shameful."
"Another word against the crown and I shall have you hanged!"
In the blink of an eye, their mother stepped between them and guided them apart. She insisted that if they wished to settle their differences, they could take their dispute to the courtyard and engage in a friendly duel with wooden swords, as bickering in the hall was deemed immature. Misguided.
"Mother, ensure Kōgon stays far from me," Hagnon warned, his nostrils flaring. "If he dares to tread on my boot again, there shall be no wedding. Do you comprehend?"
Queen Morgana reluctantly nodded, acknowledging his demand. Hagnon then stormed out, leaving behind the lingering intensity of his anger.