The Wolf who Sits the Throne

Remus: A Trial and a Feast

“Ownership of Ravenscourt is now granted to Philip Treshie for valor in battle. May he rule over it and his sons and his sons so forth. The council consents.”

A round older man nods and rises from his knee. On his chest is the blue jay of his personal sigil, which will now and forever carry on down to his newly highborn line. He looked to the throne, a large thing of stained wood and green cushions draped in furs. Upon it sat the crown prince, Rheiss the Untamed. He gave a smile and that smile was laced with genuine thankfulness but also a lingering, deep rooted fear which flickered in his eyes. They quickly averted to stare down at the stone floor, “Thank you, my prince. It means the world to me. I also give you my regards. I pray for your ailing father.”

Rheiss only gave a nonchalant nod and a tight lipped smile. He shrugged and cleared his throat as he looked to the thinly boned cousin of his own beside the Treshie man. Remus Rendell rolled a parchment of the king's decrees into a tight scroll. King Rhodyn was bed ridden, sick from infection. Now his son sat the throne as a reagent. A hard, muscled man of his late twenties and cruel as the wolf he believed himself to be. Rheiss gripped the wolf skin drapes eagerly, his red dyed teeth gleaming in the torchlight. He shifted to the very edge of his high seat, the painted leather vest he wore crinkling as he leaned forward, “Now bring forth the prisoner!”

Remus was about to sit back beside his fellow councilmen but Rheiss's sudden command did not allow for it. The last in line nephew of King Rhodyn stood tall and laid the king's decrees aside to his fellow men. He glanced to a young knight, Sir Fellore Vawdrey, giving a silent head nudge to retrieve the prisoner. The knightling did what was bid, trying to keep an expressionless face just like everyone else in the court room. He left through the double doors and within a span of minutes he and a group of guards brought in a thinly man in chains. Black hair, vivid green eyes. He was Remus's other cousin. One who brought secret whispers to the viking hordes to warn of war. Rheiss had imprisoned him for high treason and had his viking lover's throat slit and left to rot in the gibbet over the portcullis. Remus could still smell the rot wafering from the courtyard and through the windows. He even heard the guts pop in the hot sun just an hour ago before court was held. Rheiss was quite impressed with the mess and even wailed his vicious laughter at the women who took offence to the scene, barely missing the splatter of week old bile and shit. Remus only chuckled then when Rheiss had elbowed his shoulder and offered him a swig of cheap beer from his flask. He had commented that Remus was far too quiet and needed to loosen up.

Remus didn’t drink often but he took a sip and handed it back. It was bitter and the smell of rot in the air fouled his tongue. He then had to get Rheiss back in order and lead him to court. Today was the day, he had told his savage blood. The day his brother would pay. Now Remus was glad he spat the vile beer out behind Rheiss when they left the courtyard. He needed his wits today. He needed a mind sharpened and untainted at all costs. Remus was playing a dangerous game and he couldn’t back out.

Rheiss shivered, or twitched in some primal excitement. His own half brother, younger, stood before him. The crown prince laid back for only a second and returned to perch on the edge of his seat. The chamber was silent save for the heavy breathing of the wolf heir and his terrified brother. Remus cleared his throat and carried on with the event, “Prince Reastus, third in line for the throne and youngest of the Rendell princes, stands accused of consorting with the vikings and spreading our plans and strategies for war. He stands before his brother, the crown prince Rheiss Rendell, the Untamed, the Wolf among Dogs, to plead his innocence. Prince Reastus, you may speak your piece and speak it true. It is a great crime to lie to a king, even much so a crown prince in place of the king.”

Reastus shot Remus a hard glare before he spoke. His voice was loud surprisingly for his small, weakly frame. He sounded bold and level, everything Remus was not but that never deters a rat of the council. Remus sat as he listened to his cousin's words. He hoped his smirk was not evident. The others gathered at the table were luckily too focused on the younger prince. The pain and shock was evident in their eyes.