The Royal Court of King Æthelheard

[Dadarian]

A Jute amongst Roses
I​

Oisc itched his nose roughly. The northern nobles petitioned about their barbaric neighbours while others sought to immerse themselves in the court with the ease of dedicated diplomats. Nevertheless, the House of Henging will not be overseen. When there is a lull in the general rabble which constituted the Mercian court, Oisc was announced and bowed quietly.

"My Lord King, perhaps to ensure the power of the Crown over the Scot and the Dumnosite, His Majesty should dispatch a royal expedition to prove a point. Would not all the land be awed, their moots included, if the new found king brought about a mighty fury upon the northern savages? Whispers that elude His royal presence might silence."

 

[Schlieffen]

*Eorl Raedwulf bows to the King, introducing himself when called upon, before speaking briefly.*

"My King, I am honored to be in your presence, and hope that you shall endeavor to consolidate power on the lawless frontiers of this Kingdom. The House of Somerset will proudly offer its sword in whatever necessities may arise in the disloyal provinces of the west. In this regard, you ought also be aware that we have long sparred with our rivals, the Dumnonians, and it is only a matter of time before we once again clash. As your loyal vassals, I hope that we may be bestowed the honor of enforcing order and Christianity in those wayward lands."

Alfred finishes his drink while focusing on his liege's speak in the room full of people and chatter. He pays great attention to every word and sign of the young King. The way Æthelheard seemed little distressed as Alfred approached him, the way he started glowing confidence as Alfred assured his loyalty... it all proves the fact that the King is still a young and nervous man. But he will eventually become a great orator, as the King he must give speeches all the time.

"You're correct M'lord, it is our time to create a reputation of our own. Especially you, Your Highness, you need to show the whole isle of Albion that you are worth of your grandfather's legacy! I'm entirely sure that your Majesty will succeed in such, so don't worry. You seem like a confident and able man. And you are a descendant of Æthelbald, his capabilities are surely in your blood." Alfred takes a little break to refill his glass. "I'm sorry but I really can't resist the fine beverages and eatables of this gathering. Your servants make the tastiest of treats!" Alfred starts with his new glass while recollecting his thoughts. "But yes, Earl of Middlesex... He's quite an interesting man. We have wrote to each other couple of times and it indeed seems like he's a loyal supporter of you. He doesn't seem that outgoing, you're right, but once he opens his mouth to say something, it is heard by everyone. I admire his voice, it's one of a great speaker." Alfred looks to the direction where Earl Leofræd is. Even though he isn't close to Alfred and Æthelheard, his head can be seen above others' and his voice can be heard as its own separate instrument in the concert of many conversations.

Suddenly Alfred remembers the duchy of Warwick, the title he desires to create and own. "I wonder if it is too early to ask your Highness this but I really must voice my concern. We both know about the Dumnosians in west that are a threat to the lands of Earl of Somerset and the Scots in north that will surely create some problems to your vast realm, but I must remind your Greatness of a group often forgotten: The Welsh. The lessers living near our border might not be as aggressive as the other neighbours of us, but they too are surely capable of creating destruction if they desire so. I think that we need to form a stable and powerful duchy near them. Such would eliminate, if not all, at least much of their dangerousness." Alfred allows his liege a little pause in the long speech he is giving by once again sipping his wine. To some it might look like Alfred is drinking a lot but he is not even close to the amounts he throws down his throat at home. "Your Majesty surely knows what I will propose next: that this duchy would be one my family controls. The house of Warwick is surely the most loyal dynasty in the area of Middle Albion, while also being not an irrelevant one. I hope your Royal Highness at least thinks about my suggestion." Alfred finishes his glass with his speech. Time to refill yet again.

Æthelheard basks pleasantly in Earl Alfred's praise, but sours slightly as discussion turns toward the Welsh. As Alfred excuses himself for another drink Earl Raedwulf approaches the king with a similar note on the Dumnonians specifically — their lands sometimes called "West Wales" — and he finishes his petition just as Alfred returns, leaving both men waiting for a reply. "Ah, welcome back Earl Alfred. By happenstance, the Earl of Somerset inadvertently continued our conversation on how to address the problem the Welsh kingdoms pose."

After making sure the two men have been introduced to each other, he continues. "Gentlemen, while I appreciate your vigilance against our foreign subjects, as long as they continue to pay us tribute I can't imagine that the immense time and cost of conquering and subjugating their lands would be justified. Granted, I'd much prefer a Saxon rule over those lands given a choice, but the rough terrain and difficulty of integrating a foreign people... I can't imagine such an undertaking would be worthwhile."

He pauses for a moment, taking a sip of wine. "Of course, I'll grant that would change should they mistake my grandfather's death as a sign of weakness on our part. I'll admit that I think your assessment of their threat is inaccurate as things are now, but I'll also concede that it could quickly become very real should they cease paying tribute and begin to see themselves as independent of our rule. While I still think a true conquest would remain out of reach even then, I am pleased that you both are dedicated enough to the crown to fight so the Welsh remain where they belong, and should it be necessary I will support you in any way I can in that endeavor."

 

[Sneakyflaps]

So this was he, this was our new Bretwalda, our new king, our new liege lord and what a figure he made. His body had the part, he had youth upon the figure of his face, he had strength in the muscles of his body, he had a height which could command a room, and under all of this, his posture was one that shined of uncertainty, of weakness. Or at least so Artair thought as he sat down at one of the tables, taking a pair of ribs as he began chewing away on the meat. This was the man whom his father had died after meeting.
The biggest problem with our newest king, at least to Artair’s mind was that he was young. He was untested and equally important, if he turned out to be weak as his posture would suggest, it was not as if he would do everyone the kindness to die speedily, at least not on his own.

Artair kept looking over this young king, this young Bretwalda as he took bite after bite, eventually reaching the first part of the bone. He would then lick his fingers one after another, as the juice from the meat danced upon his tongue as the heat of the hall and from the fires made the green cloak in which he had travelled unneeded. And while Artair had arrived late, his father’s old adviser, Osric, had not and had fortunately been here and was thus able to pass information on to Artair of at least some affairs which had taken place.

The Northmen, by the accounts had taken to speaking with the king about whatever a Northman spoke about, probably something to do with the Scots. The Scots, it was a sad state of affairs that they even dared raised their hands in defiance. Then of course the rest who also spoke with the king, pledging their full support and boasting of said thing. Then again, it is easy to pledge support, and boast of it when one finds themselves on the other side of an Empire, upon where the Kings Justice at best is questionable and at worst non-existent.

But here was Artair, sitting and biting onto the bone of the rib as he finally gathered the energy to fulfill his purpose here, if for nothing else than to return home afterwards. His house had not mattered, either for proper politics or for the defense of the realm these past forty years and any change to that status was unlikely to come from this new King, a King whom seemed at ease the moment you spoke pleasantries. But all the same, Artair was here, here to pledge the fealty and allegiance of him and his house, his earldom. Just as his mother and older sister had urged him back in Winchester. To show true and proper support to the Crown, ensure that they as a family are not cast too far out from favour and royal blessings. So it was as Artair stood up and approached his new king, their Bretwalda, bowing his head deep as he spoke, “Sire, I have come here to pledge the support and fealty of not only myself, but that of my whole house. I have no doubt that in fifty years’ time, we shall look back to this day as the start of a reign which would make even the late King seethe with jealousy of our accomplishments.”

 

[Schlieffen]

Regent Alfred held himself nobly and aloft as he approached his King, before giving a deep bow...a poor one. "Your Majesty, it has been long since I have last seen you, and it is to my great regret that I was unable to watch you grow, however..." Alfred gave out a low chuckle, though not quite a happy one, "...the North is always calling. My father was, as you know, one of His Late Majesty’s most esteemed commanders and companions, and, though your grandfather has departed, and my father…" Alfred pauses his sentence, his confident demeanor faulting, and he is becoming clearly shaken. After a brief moment of collecting himself, he continues. "For-Forgive me, I haven’t gotten much sleep as of late, and words struggle to reach my tongue. As I was saying... our families have always been close, and, if you so desire, I would wish nothing more than to keep it that way. It is in me, My Lord, that I pledge you shall find your most loyal vassal and your most trusted commander, as my father served your predecessor, I shall serve you."

"And, Your Majesty, I shall not lie, I come to you today with requests, though I understand you likely tire of it. It should be well known throughout the Kingdom that the traitorous Scots can not be trusted, and it is only a matter of time before they forgo their tribute, as my spies, as should yours, report. When this does occur, we shall find ourselves at war, and the northern realms will crumble if they are divided as they are now. In order to rectify this, I must request for the establishment of two northern duchies, the Duchies of Lothian and Lancaster respectively, and for the transference of land to more suitable monarchs. The Duchy of Lothian would be underneath, as you might assume, my own dynasty, and consist of my current territory, as well as the territories of Roxburgh, Bernicia, and Durham underneath personal vassals. The Duchy of Lancaster would be underneath the fair dynasty of Anglia, and consist of the Anglian provinces, as well as those of Richmond and Scarborough. This would grant us a far more advantageous position in the North, as rule is centralized under loyal Dukes who pledge full allegiance to the crown. As for the transfer of provinces, I trust you are aware of the Silesian, Earl Adrian of Berwick? I believe it would be most advantageous if he were to be granted the territory of Roxburgh, as many local lords look upon him more favorably than their own Earl, and he would be able to levy far more resources for our nation."

He waits a moment before adding, "I understand this is a difficult decision to make, and I wish to assure you that, accept or deny, my allegiance shall stand unwavering."

A Jute amongst Roses
I​

Oisc itched his nose roughly. The northern nobles petitioned about their barbaric neighbours while others sought to immerse themselves in the court with the ease of dedicated diplomats. Nevertheless, the House of Henging will not be overseen. When there is a lull in the general rabble which constituted the Mercian court, Oisc was announced and bowed quietly.

"My Lord King, perhaps to ensure the power of the Crown over the Scot and the Dumnosite, His Majesty should dispatch a royal expedition to prove a point. Would not all the land be awed, their moots included, if the new found king brought about a mighty fury upon the northern savages? Whispers that elude His royal presence might silence."

Æthelheard was pleased to receive the regent of Lothian, but his expression soured slightly at the mention of creating two new dukedoms. His pause before replying lingered a little too long, and the noble from Kent managed to — perhaps deliberately — interject a proposal that an expedition be dispatched by the crown to deal with the Scots. His eyes wandered for a few moments, fixate on someone, then he begins to reply. "The Earl of Berwick approached me with a similar proposal, but I fear that I cannot in good continence reorganize the kingdom so soon after acquiring the crown: There are simply too many factors I am not yet aware of that my brief time as heir have not prepared me for.
"But if you wish to deal with with the treachery of north and it is confirmed that they are indeed in rebellion, then I believe the Lathewald's man has made a fine proposal. Should you accept it, I would like to confer upon you a portion of the royal treasury and a writ giving you the powers needed to collect the tribute due to us by Strathclyde — by whatever means necessary. Since you both seem to be on the same page, I suspect that Earl Adrian will gladly aid you in this task as well." The king smiled, seeming pleased at the idea he had come up with.

 

[Schlieffen]

So this was he, this was our new Bretwalda, our new king, our new liege lord and what a figure he made. His body had the part, he had youth upon the figure of his face, he had strength in the muscles of his body, he had a height which could command a room, and under all of this, his posture was one that shined of uncertainty, of weakness. Or at least so Artair thought as he sat down at one of the tables, taking a pair of ribs as he began chewing away on the meat. This was the man whom his father had died after meeting.
The biggest problem with our newest king, at least to Artair’s mind was that he was young. He was untested and equally important, if he turned out to be weak as his posture would suggest, it was not as if he would do everyone the kindness to die speedily, at least not on his own.

Artair kept looking over this young king, this young Bretwalda as he took bite after bite, eventually reaching the first part of the bone. He would then lick his fingers one after another, as the juice from the meat danced upon his tongue as the heat of the hall and from the fires made the green cloak in which he had travelled unneeded. And while Artair had arrived late, his father’s old adviser, Osric, had not and had fortunately been here and was thus able to pass information on to Artair of at least some affairs which had taken place.

The Northmen, by the accounts had taken to speaking with the king about whatever a Northman spoke about, probably something to do with the Scots. The Scots, it was a sad state of affairs that they even dared raised their hands in defiance. Then of course the rest who also spoke with the king, pledging their full support and boasting of said thing. Then again, it is easy to pledge support, and boast of it when one finds themselves on the other side of an Empire, upon where the Kings Justice at best is questionable and at worst non-existent.

But here was Artair, sitting and biting onto the bone of the rib as he finally gathered the energy to fulfill his purpose here, if for nothing else than to return home afterwards. His house had not mattered, either for proper politics or for the defense of the realm these past forty years and any change to that status was unlikely to come from this new King, a King whom seemed at ease the moment you spoke pleasantries. But all the same, Artair was here, here to pledge the fealty and allegiance of him and his house, his earldom. Just as his mother and older sister had urged him back in Winchester. To show true and proper support to the Crown, ensure that they as a family are not cast too far out from favour and royal blessings. So it was as Artair stood up and approached his new king, their Bretwalda, bowing his head deep as he spoke, “Sire, I have come here to pledge the support and fealty of not only myself, but that of my whole house. I have no doubt that in fifty years’ time, we shall look back to this day as the start of a reign which would make even the late King seethe with jealousy of our accomplishments.”

The flattery of this man seemed to work, as Æthelheard seemed to glow as he replied. "Why, you flatter me, er..." As he fumbled, for the first time the Earl of Middlesex outright walked to his side and whispered in his ear, not even attempting — or, given the circumstances, able — to hide what he was doing. Stirred to respond, the king began speaking before he had even finished whispering. "Artair, of course! Why, your realm was one of the first I planned to visit in my tour of the kingdom! I was considering perhaps heading north instead, what with all of this business with the Scots refusing to pay tribute, but now that I actually meet you I'm glad I decided otherwise."

The king manages to regain some decorum as the conversation continues, but still remains just slightly more friendly than he probably should. The Earl of Middlesex meanwhile gives the king a worried glare — and another, far less worried glare to Artair — before quietly excusing himself.

 

[DragonOfAtlantis]

Earl Aethelwold would walk over to where the King was seated, while no stranger in Æthelbald’s court, Aethelwold was not one for talking very often. When he arrived at the King's table, he would listen in on various audiences with the King as he waited for a chance to speak. Once the opportunity arose, Aethelwold would bow before the King before addressing him.

"Your Majesty, I humbly request permission to have my son, along with the levies of Suffolk, join the expedition to quash the Scottish Rebellion.” Aethelwold would mutter under his breath, “This should distract my son from bedding every damn maiden he comes across.” He then spoke up, “My son would benefit from the experience and would have the chance to see what lies beyond my domain.”

 

[Janha]

Æthelheard basks pleasantly in Earl Alfred's praise, but sours slightly as discussion turns toward the Welsh. As Alfred excuses himself for another drink Earl Raedwulf approaches the king with a similar note on the Dumnonians specifically — their lands sometimes called "West Wales" — and he finishes his petition just as Alfred returns, leaving both men waiting for a reply. "Ah, welcome back Earl Alfred. By happenstance, the Earl of Somerset inadvertently continued our conversation on how to address the problem the Welsh kingdoms pose."

After making sure the two men have been introduced to each other, he continues. "Gentlemen, while I appreciate your vigilance against our foreign subjects, as long as they continue to pay us tribute I can't imagine that the immense time and cost of conquering and subjugating their lands would be justified. Granted, I'd much prefer a Saxon rule over those lands given a choice, but the rough terrain and difficulty of integrating a foreign people... I can't imagine such an undertaking would be worthwhile."

He pauses for a moment, taking a sip of wine. "Of course, I'll grant that would change should they mistake my grandfather's death as a sign of weakness on our part. I'll admit that I think your assessment of their threat is inaccurate as things are now, but I'll also concede that it could quickly become very real should they cease paying tribute and begin to see themselves as independent of our rule. While I still think a true conquest would remain out of reach even then, I am pleased that you both are dedicated enough to the crown to fight so the Welsh remain where they belong, and should it be necessary I will support you in any way I can in that endeavor."

Alfred is delighted to meet Earl Raedwulf of Somerset. The two have been writing to each other and they've even signed a pact to help one another if they ever get in a war against the vile foreigners of west. "It's great to meet you Earl Raedwulf," Alfred smilingly says to his fellow man as they shake hands. Before any more small-talk is able to take place, the young King continues with his talk. Alfred listen very carefully to his liege, while fiddling with his wine glass. The mere presence of drink makes him thirsty, even though he has been imbibing the whole evening.

"I thank you, M'lord, for your promise of support if we ever get in a war against the barbaric Welsh. Your Highness is most likely correct: subjugation of all the Welsh wouldn't probably be worth it. Not even if they refused to pay tribute." Alfred takes a rather large gulp of his drink, he just couldn't resist anymore. "Excuse me..." he mumbles while trying to remember what he was about to say. "While all of the Welsh would be a too large group to control efficiently, I would argue that the Dumnosians alone are not too much to rule over. They are already creating fear amongst the populace of good Earl Raedwulf's lands. And if they ever refuse to pay tribute, I say we conquer their lands! In addition to expanding your great Kingdom, this would also make a good example to our other neighbors. They would think twice before opposing your Greatness' rule!" Alfred finishes his part of the conversation with another gulp of wine. The glass is once again out of drinkable, something that seems to happen often to Alfred. One could also say that he's talking louder than at the start of the gathering.

 

[Sneakyflaps]

Artair could not help but smile as the young man whispered the words to Bretwalda, and by all accounts given to Artair, that man must have been the earl of Middelsex. A supposed old friend of our new liege, who at the very least, emitted more certainty that the man whom we all here served. “Sire, I can hardly put it past you that you have decided to start with the high point of the trip, rather than saving it for last. Though I wonder if it is wise for the court to show such concern for the Scots, it is almost as if we give them more credit than they are due.

But perhaps it is time that I let you talk with those of your liegemen whom the matter most reside with, those with more knowledge of the Scots than I.” Artair nodded his head deep in front of his liege, “Sire.” He bowed, stepping back.

 

[Schlieffen]

Earl Aethelwold would walk over to where the King was seated, while no stranger in Æthelbald’s court, Aethelwold was not one for talking very often. When he arrived at the King's table, he would listen in on various audiences with the King as he waited for a chance to speak. Once the opportunity arose, Aethelwold would bow before the King before addressing him.

"Your Majesty, I humbly request permission to have my son, along with the levies of Suffolk, join the expedition to quash the Scottish Rebellion.” Aethelwold would mutter under his breath, “This should distract my son from bedding every damn maiden he comes across.” He then spoke up, “My son would benefit from the experience and would have the chance to see what lies beyond my domain.”

"As long as we do not overtax our subjects, I certainly have no problem with a grander force being sent to scare the Scots into submission. I would prefer that we actually not come to blows over this matter, and a suitable force to remind them of why they pay us tribute in the first place may help with this."

 

[Schlieffen]

Alfred is delighted to meet Earl Raedwulf of Somerset. The two have been writing to each other and they've even signed a pact to help one another if they ever get in a war against the vile foreigners of west. "It's great to meet you Earl Raedwulf," Alfred smilingly says to his fellow man as they shake hands. Before any more small-talk is able to take place, the young King continues with his talk. Alfred listen very carefully to his liege, while fiddling with his wine glass. The mere presence of drink makes him thirsty, even though he has been imbibing the whole evening.

"I thank you, M'lord, for your promise of support if we ever get in a war against the barbaric Welsh. Your Highness is most likely correct: subjugation of all the Welsh wouldn't probably be worth it. Not even if they refused to pay tribute." Alfred takes a rather large gulp of his drink, he just couldn't resist anymore. "Excuse me..." he mumbles while trying to remember what he was about to say. "While all of the Welsh would be a too large group to control efficiently, I would argue that the Dumnosians alone are not too much to rule over. They are already creating fear amongst the populace of good Earl Raedwulf's lands. And if they ever refuse to pay tribute, I say we conquer their lands! In addition to expanding your great Kingdom, this would also make a good example to our other neighbors. They would think twice before opposing your Greatness' rule!" Alfred finishes his part of the conversation with another gulp of wine. The glass is once again out of drinkable, something that seems to happen often to Alfred. One could also say that he's talking louder than at the start of the gathering.

Æthelheard seems to stiffen up and become more formal, likely unsure of how to deal with the earl's increasing drunkenness. "I'll grant that the Dumnonians' lands would make a valuable addition to the kingdom, but that value is also what they would use against us if we were to invade — and, in turn, what we must subjugate even after they bow to us. The terrain is also unbroken, allowing them to respond quickly to any force we might send, forcing us to commit to large battles instead of small raids." He raises his hand to calm any objections. "I'm not saying what you propose is an impossibility, but rather it would require a real commitment. Unless we find ourselves with an excess of resources or their treachery forces our hand, I simply do not see conflict with the Welsh being a desirable option this soon after my ascension."

 

[adriankowaty]

The Young Earl takes a while on the court asking if there is family willing to marry daughter with him.
He explains that he has problems with expressing his statements because of speaking problem.
He only wants to find someone who is willing apart to have children with and, perhaps, find an ally in king's court.
He fears that war would harm English lands and thinks that introducing permament taxes in both private and royal estates would allow nobility of England to mantain selfdefence required to keep invaders in line.
He explains that being too much warlike would only introduce hostilities between Englishmen and other societies which would be countereffective in terms of keeping British Isles stable.
He prefers to trade and find common world with other societies instead.

 

[Janha]

Æthelheard seems to stiffen up and become more formal, likely unsure of how to deal with the earl's increasing drunkenness. "I'll grant that the Dumnonians' lands would make a valuable addition to the kingdom, but that value is also what they would use against us if we were to invade — and, in turn, what we must subjugate even after they bow to us. The terrain is also unbroken, allowing them to respond quickly to any force we might send, forcing us to commit to large battles instead of small raids." He raises his hand to calm any objections. "I'm not saying what you propose is an impossibility, but rather it would require a real commitment. Unless we find ourselves with an excess of resources or their treachery forces our hand, I simply do not see conflict with the Welsh being a desirable option this soon after my ascension."

"I understand ,Your Highness. Let us not hurry with the Welsh," Alfred answers to his liege. He understands that the young King wants to first make sure there are no internal problems in the Kingdom before attacking any neighbouring tribes. The day to conquer Welsh lands will come eventually. And that day Alfred will get himself riches and land. "I thank you Æthelheard... I mean M'lord, for listening to my concerns. I will inform you if the situation with the Welsh change and I am sure that the Earl of Somerset will do so too." Alfred tries to sip his wine, but when he sees that there is no drink in his glass, he chuckles a little bit. "Now if Your Majesty will excuse me, I would like to go refill my glass." Alfred takes a little step backwards and bows to his liege.

 

[Firehound15]

Æthelheard seems to stiffen up and become more formal, likely unsure of how to deal with the earl's increasing drunkenness. "I'll grant that the Dumnonians' lands would make a valuable addition to the kingdom, but that value is also what they would use against us if we were to invade — and, in turn, what we must subjugate even after they bow to us. The terrain is also unbroken, allowing them to respond quickly to any force we might send, forcing us to commit to large battles instead of small raids." He raises his hand to calm any objections. "I'm not saying what you propose is an impossibility, but rather it would require a real commitment. Unless we find ourselves with an excess of resources or their treachery forces our hand, I simply do not see conflict with the Welsh being a desirable option this soon after my ascension."

"My King, I do not mean to question your perspective, as I believe it to be proper, but I suspect any engagement with Strathclyde or the Picts shall provide the same consequences. Perhaps worse. Indeed, Caledonia is a rocky, hilly country, and Strathclyde is well-known for its expansive forests. Indeed, I would tender the suggestion that tthe tactical difficulties that may be experienced in Dumnonia are substantially fewer than will be encountered in the northern reaches of your Kingdom. Unlike the 'Clydes, they are isolated from potential allies, and with a coordinated effort, I believe could be easily subdued. It would be significantly easier to maintain control over their marshy lands.

"If we are to engage in the North, as the northern lords so eagerly call for you to do, my King, I suspect we shall fight small battles for small victories. I doubt that even after several successes in the field of battle, much progress will be attained. The 'Clydes will simply retreat into the hills and forests, and upon the slightest semblance of weakness, attack our forces. Indeed, my King, you possess through your loyal vassals a force which significantly outnumbers the Dumnonians, yet which will be rendered all-but-inoperable fighting the 'Clydes or, forbid the possibility, the Picts."

~ Eorl Raedwulf of Somerset

 

[Schlieffen]

Æthelheard was about to reply when the Earl of Middlesex politely interrupted, holding a message in his hand. Before the king could speak, the earl took him by the arm — perhaps a little more forcefully than was appropriate given their ranks — and whispered in his ear. There was a brief look of concern on the king's face, but it was quickly replaced by a more regal one as he gathered the room's attention. "Gentlemen, it seems that the news from the north apparently requires a more formal discussion. I fear I must call this gathering to a close, and request that all of the high-ranking nobles remain for a discussion to take place after I consult with my advisers."


Around twenty minutes later, the king returned with the earl just behind him. He again exuded the regal bearing he had during his coronation, not the more informal attitude he held during the gathering afterward, as he sat in a throne prepared before a circular table. The earl remained standing by the king's side, and despite the throne being elevated he still seemed to tower over the king.

After the various earls and representatives had been seated, the king began speaking. "Gentlemen, I fear the news is quite grave. Firstly, the Welsh tribes have seen fit to cease paying tribute to the crown. They did so silently, likely hoping that their obligations to the crown ended with my grandfather's reign." He turned his attention toward the earls of Somerset and Warwick. "Normally this would not be a matter of grave concern, but I fear that they must be compelled to pay their dues as quickly as possible."

He then turned his attention toward the northern earls. "These dues must be collected to fund a campaign in the north, as I fear Strathclyde ceasing their tribute was but a sign of things to come. Áed the White, king of Dál Riata, has gathered allies from his own kingdom, the Pictish tribes, and the lands of Strathclyde, and they have begun gathering armies." The king paused a moment to let the severity of that statement sink in. "Gentlemen, we must firstly protect our lands from the northern hordes, but moreso we must defeat this force soundly and put the northern tribes back in their place. Right now they are scattered and unorganized, but if we do nothing to stop him this man may eventually manage to get all all the northern tribes to bow to him as king, and this would be a threat not just to our northern border but to the entire kingdom. The years of peace and prosperity under my grandfather existed only because of a lack of any real threats to his kingdom; well the northern tribes being gathered under a single king would be such a threat, and would threaten to undo all that my grandfather worked for."

The king surveyed the room, looking in the eyes of all the men gathered, before allowing the earl to step forward to handle the details. "His Majesty feels the best course of action is to split our efforts into three parts. Firstly, the earls of Somerset and Warwick are to compel the Welsh tribes to pay their tribute to the crown. Diplomatic means are preferred, but if you must make an example of one of the tribes then so be it. Just remember that any resources used against the Welsh are resources that cannot be brought against Áed the White."

He turns toward the northern earls. "Secondly, a more immediate defense must be mounted. To this end, Aldrich is to be appointed Duke of Lothian, the lands of which will additionally include Berwick and Roxburgh. He offers a slight bow. "Your grace, the organization of your lands' defense is left to your discretion, but you will find the crown to be accommodating in your requests. The earl of York will likely find his lands under attack as well, so I would suggest organizing your efforts with his."

"Finally, our enemies have likely been plotting this betrayal for some time, so it is unlikely our initial efforts will be successful on their own. In addition to assisting His Majesty in his ascension and the governing of the kingdom, it will be the duty of the remaining nobles to prepare a proper counter to repel and finally subdue the northern tribes. It is likely our subjects will not appreciate the measures needed to achieve this as our lands have been light in taxes for some time, but the tribute and safety that allowed that state have passed with the late king, and they must be made to understand that."

The earl slowly steps back again, letting the king take over. "I assume this course of action is acceptable to everyone gathered?"

 

[adriankowaty]

Adrian, midly worried, answered politely:
Naturally.

 

[Janha]

Alfred, thanks to being "tipsy", is clumsy with his moves and words. The quick change from a laid-back feast to a serious meeting is quite a lot for him. Yet somehow he manages to keep up with all the new information, at least most of it. As the close advisor of the King, Earl Leofræd of Middlesex, explains the details of the coming months, Alfred gets excited. He can show his great diplomatic skills by forcing the Welsh to pay tribute. Not with the force of sword but with the might of pen! And after the King has seen Alfred's capableness, the young ruler will surely bestow him with the duchy of Warwick.

As the King asks for everyone's opinion, Alfred, out of sudden impulse, stands up and claims in a rather loud voice: "M'lord, I will not disappoint you. Those damn Welsh will soon again bow to you!" He toasts, alone.

 

[DragonOfAtlantis]

Aethelwold paled when he heard the news of the united Northern tribes, but recovered quickly.

“Your Majesty, I believe that this is a sound plan.”

 

[Sneakyflaps]

Artair closed his eyes and took a deep breath as his head lowered while biting the inner side of his cheek. He slowly opened his eyes as the Earl of Middelsex spoke through the various aspects of this masterstroke, while others lost the blood in their cheeks and the smell of alcohol parted with each breath that Warwick took. Either Artair had too little faith in the new king, or the rest had too much confidence, or perhaps Artair was just an idiot for not recognizing brilliance in front of him which so seemed to have dazzled the others. Regardless of his own displeasure of the proposed idea, he would agree, if for nothing else than to see how it all turned out, and as the rest of the council seemed to agree whole heartedly, little would be gained from current opposition. He would look up at Middelsex for but a moment, less than happy about what had just transpired which would no doubt be clear to the latter if Middelsex was as savvy as he seemed. But as Artair shook his head briefly and crooked an eyebrow, Artairs attention turned back to Bretwalda, “Yes, Sire.” In a rather less than enthusiastic tone.

 

[Firehound15]

"My Lord, I shall humbly accept the charge of extracting from the errant Welsh the taxes which they owe to you, but I must express my skepticism toward granting a duchy to an individual who has yet to prove his loyalty to you. I suggest that the grant of such a title be reserved for after a successful defeat of the 'Clydes and their masters. Victory and honorable conduct should precede such a grant of authority - not succeed it."

~ Eorl Raedwulf of Somerset

 

[Dadarian]

A Jute amongst Roses
II​

War with the North is assured. The fear of the King was palatable, made easy by the vultures of the court. The only question is, how best would Oisc react.

"My Lord King, I beg my leave."

Soon after, a raven left the Mercian court.