Chapter 6: The Death of a King
The letter had arrived in the morning, the king was dead. The entire council were shocked as they recieved the news.
I warned him, Petronia thought, "The battlefield is no place for a man of your build." she had told him.
Her husband had taken it as an insult, he never listened to the truth, not if he didn't want it to be true.
Atleast he had the wit to name
her the designated regent. Some of the council members objected to it, but Dimetheos the court chaplain, calmed them down. "The king wanted it, he wished to see his wife rule if he was unable." he had said, pausing for a while as he gave the rest of the council a friendly smile, "It might be unorthodox to let a woman rule, but it was ordered by a man, and that man was a king."
Now the crown had fallen onto little Stephanou, he would soon be one year old. The council members even objected to this, stating that a child does not have the capability to rule a kingdom.
"You let a freak lead you, why not a child?" she had asked them, and to that they had no good reply.
Before the corpse of Eionkouda was returned to the capital to be laid to rest, the council had already insisted on naming an heir to the kingdom.
They chose the steward, the incompetent Kollouthos. Some confusion arose when the spymaster yelled out
Kollouthos, as the chancellor and steward share name.
She had no idea why the spymaster wanted to have the steward as heir, he was good at counting coins and reading books, but not much else. The chancellor Kollouthos voted for himself, stating that him being the only landed man in the council shoud be of some importance, the court chaplain abstained, and the steward voted for himself. When Petronia asked if they wanted her opinion on the matter, they only gave her a stare before closing the case.
She mumbled a few curses as she left the room. The marshal seemed to be a clever man, if he had not been out fighting that stupid war he might have talked some sense into them. Though the letter informing them of Eionkouda's death also mention the marshal recieving a wound during the battle. He might not ever return.
Then Michaêl Alwa came to mind, her ex-husband's ward, he had become a trained tactician and had taken complete command over the fighting army while the marshal healed his wounds.
He was betrothed to Ephannê, a waste to marry a girl of her nobility to some warrior. She had little love for Michaêl, her husband loved him too much, more than Ephannê.
The first thing she did as regent, was to break the betrothal.
She had another husband in mind for her daughter.
The Byzantine Empire was a powerful ally, one they could use.
Her daughter would become queen, not some mere warrior's wife, but the spouse of a Baseilus.
Michaêl could find another wife, someone more fitting.
The war raged on and the council got letters from time to time from the different commanders, each telling of another victory, of more foes slain and more heroes made.
They had even begun besieging the capital of Abynissia, the war was almost certainly going to be a victory.
Ephannê was now of age, she had grown to become a talented diplomat, though she had inherited some of her father's flaws. Petroina had little to say about her daughter, chancellor Kollouthos had been her guardian, and she rarely left him to come on a visit home. She was almost a stranger, only seen on rare occasions. Atleast she was ready to marry.
More letters arrived, some more important than others, the kingdom of Abynissia had been thrown into two different revolts. One was caused by some lord that had risen up against his betters, while the other was a religious rebellion. Petronia had no love for the heathens, but as long as they slew abynissians, she would turn the other cheek.
The third interesting letter was from the Baseilus, his daughter was now a princess. Though that was not all that stood, the Baseilus wanted them to prove their worth and honor. The Baseilus called Alodia into a holy war. Petriona had no trouble answering with a yes, though the only help they would recieve from them in this holy war were those three letters. They were busy slaughtering their neighbors, the abyssinians. She sent the letter back to Byzantine together with Ephannê, she would probably never see her again. The worst part was that she didn't care about it. She was only a stranger, a stranger with Petriona's blood in her, but also with Eionkouda's blood. It only took a look to understand that she inherited more from him than of her mother.
As the days went on, Petronia realised being a regent was tougher than she anticipated. She hired some more servants to do some of the less important work for her, it would make her days alot easier. She had no doubt her son wouldn't mind her taking a look in treasury, if he would ever know about it.
Three days later and a group of armed warriors arrived with a captive. It was the young prince of Abyssinia, taken during the siege of Adwa.
An eye for an eye, Petriona smiled cruely. The king of abyssinia took their king, and now they would take his heir.
None of the men seemed eager to do the task, but after a visit in the treasury again, she found the means to convince them.
The child was not the only thing they came home with, lying inside his old litter was King Eionkouda. He had been disfigured before, but now he was broken. As they opened the litter and showed her the old king, she found herself throwing up her breakfast. She asked them to take 'it' away from her sight and advised them to give it to the court chaplain.
She hoped that if they raised a statue of him, they would be kind, and lie about his looks.
The warriors were then ordered to return to the new siege, Michaêl Alwa seemed determined to tear down every single building in the capital before coming home again. The warriors described him as ruthless, they theorized that it was the death of the king that had changed him. "He wasn't like this before", they had claimed, "but when he saw the wreckage of King Eionkouda's chariot and his mangled corpse, something changed in him."
The poor child loved him, she realised,
how sad.
And so the war went on. The abynissian king refused to surrender after recieving the news of his dead heir, and ignored the suffering of his people.
His kingdom is falling apart, the council agreed, the war would be ending soon.
Little King Stephanou would have won a war at the age of one. He would be a great king, when he was of age she would become his guardian. She would teach him how to rule and command.
When she went to her little son, as she did every night. She found a maid sitting next to his crib. Her cheeks wet from tears, but she stared at the floor with cold, angry eyes.
"What in God's name is the matter?!" Petriona asked the servant. The maid slowly moved her stare from the floor into Petriona's eyes. "I'm so sorry." she said and looked down into the crib.
Petriona rushed over and looked down herself.
Her little son laid calmly in the crib, a pillow resting over his face. He was too calm, he didn't breath nor move.
When Petriona turned her gaze over to the maid again, the servant burst into tears.
As Petriona left the room, the maid was laying on the floor as lifeless as the little king, with a pillow resting on her face. "Kollouthos!" the maid cried as she fought for her life. "The steward made me do it! Please, not me!" she had begged and cried, but nothing helped, The wench died.
She burst into the royal library. A medium sized room with few books, but the steward spent most of his days there anyway. He had probably read all books ten times each.
She wasn't surprised when she found him there, sitting in a chair. For once he wasn't reading, a bottle of wine stood on the desk, almost empty. He sat on a stool behind it, and gave her a sad look.
The craven, the imbecile. The bloody incompetent camel did it, the anger was building up inside of her.
He muttered something, but none of it made sense, he was probably asking for forgiveness, just like the maid. It didn't help her, and it wouldn't help him.
He was a kingslayer, and a babymurderer, and now he would die.
Before she managed to leap over his desk and rip out his eyes, someone grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back.
The blade of a knife was pressed up against her throat.
"Sweet dreams." she recognized the spymaster's slimy voice.
Then the knife cut through her throat, and a red liquid poured out.
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And so ends this AAR, to think that someone as unimportant as the steward would end it. Oh well.
I can't really think of anything more to say about that, so... Yup. Babykillers!
Also, a big thanks to Crimson Drakon for his continued commenting, seeing new comments are great, and you sure made me feel great a couple of times.
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