The Coup and the Cowardly King

The gathering of the knights and nobles was not an uncommon occurrence. In fact, the king regularly enjoyed to have a gathering of any kind, an excuse for a feast and a party. In fact, that was what the King of Sezonia had become known for, extravagant parties and feasts. Frivolous whilst the people suffered. It was a way to keep up the shaking foreign relations too, even if it was at the cost of Sezonia’s ever dwindling funds. And it helped to keep King Rigile VIII, at least in his own mind, equal to the other kings, which was far from the truth. But politics was politics, in every form.

But in the light of the recent events, Sir James Kant feared it was not to a joyous occasion he was attending. This time it loomed with a darker air. His fellow knights had told him he thought to much, that it was his mind playing tricks upon him. But deep down he knew, the state of the common people was worsening, and no matter how high the tax’s went, it was a mater of time until it effected the nobility, and then the nation would truly collapse.

James sat at his desk, a small glass bottle of ink, a pen and two sheets of blank parchment before him. He taped his index finger against the hard red wood, it made a sound that James had grown to love, a sound that he had remembered from when he was young, sitting in his room, forced to read history texts, but couldn’t be bothered to, so he had sit tapping a tune on the desk top. He thought about the desk, how old it must have been by then, for his father and grandfather had both owned it before him. It had seen warships, battles, castles, camps and then finally it had rested for many years in a prestigious house in the North East, and there it had become James’.

James hid the thoughts from his mind, it wasn’t the time to think back about that time, he couldn’t afford for his mind to be blurred by the pain he left behind in that house, but which seemed to follow him where ever he went none the less.

He seemed to walk in his father and grandfathers shadows, great and glorious knights, well decorated and seasoned in war. They had made a fortune for themselves in the process, which was given James when no heir was left except him. His other siblings all gone, from illness or war, or the misfortune of bandits along the road.

James was the last one carrying the Kant name, and even sitting alone in his room, it felt heavy on him. He had to become as famous as his father and grandfather before him, and today he would have that chance for a proper hearing about the matters he wished to bring before the king. And secretly, he wanted to be sent to see a battle and to make his name, James Kant, stand out among the knights and nobles. But the chance of such was slim, for war had not been seen for 16 years in Sezonia.

Sezonia was once a rich nation which crushed its enemies, held itself as ruler of the known world, a power to be reckoned with. It had been rich with diamonds and jewels, and its harvests were good and the people happy.

But peace had a price, and peace hung on it’s agreements of disarmament and the payment of the large tributes to the neighbouring nation Asentha. But they hadn’t had a choice, for the king lost heart, and when the king losses heart, the people lose heart, leaving the nation weakening from the day peace started. Now this had gone on for too long in the eyes of many of the people, and now the people wanted action from their king. And James did too. He wanted, as many did, to take back what was Sezonia’s and to campaign against their oppressors. The new generation were keen for revenge, and James backed this movement with all his strength in the kings court, because it would give him the chance to make not only Sezonia an empire, but himself an empire as well.

James rose from his wooden chair and blew out the candle that slowly leaked wax into the ceramic plate under it. There was no need for its light, the suns rays were peeping through the trees beyond the window, and the morning dew was evaporating off the grass before the castle. A rooster was crowing somewhere in the village to the north, a faint and friendly sound.

He was privileged to have a place in the kings castle itself. Money and family fame has granted him not only a good rank in the kings army, small as the army was, but also accomodation in the castle, and the opportunity to go before the king many times a month, even if the king hardly listened to what he said.

And the room in the castle was one of the nice ones, with a northerly view that kept him warm in winter, wintering having just passed a month before. Now the view was splendid, looking over the forest as the flowers began to blossom and trees regained their leaves. With the moderate pay James got, he was able to deck out the room nicely with a comfortable bed in one corner, and then his office in the other corner, with his desk and chair. He had a few shelves with some things on, and two paintings hung along the east wall over the bed. But he didn’t care much for the looks, just practicality.

The sound of the leather sheath as the shiny metal blade slid into place gave James a sense of pride of his position. His sword was a beautiful specimen, an extra hardened blade, and a jewel incrusted handle, with seems of gold running around the jewels. It was his show sword, not one made for battle, it cost much too much to be damaged in action, not that James would ever have to face an action and have to don any other sword.

He was right handed, so the sword hung from his left, and bounced against his leg as he quickly paced the room, gathering his thoughts, leaning down to look at some papers on his desk, and pacing again. He then tucked the papers into his shirt pocket. Then he pulled his cloak over top, which hid the shiny sword handle, but the cloak made him look much more formidable and intimidating, and for some reason made him look taller than his already tall 6 foot 2 inches.

The door opened with a heavy creak, followed by the echo of it shutting behind James as he walked into the long stone passageway, his steps echoing along past the rows of rooms. Most of the other doors were shut, but some were left ajar. James looked out the corner of his eye as he passed each one walking down the passage, it seemed he was going to be early, which he didn’t mind. In fact, most of the other guests were still just waking, and he would get some time to speak to the king alone before the meeting became too large for his opinions to be heard above the shouting.

He came to the flight of stairs and went down with a kind of jogging motion. Then it was down the larger passage, which was much more spacious and exciting, with paintings lining the walls, and suits of armour on their stands, looking fearsome. And beside the inanimate suits of armour stood the living suits of armour, just as fearsome, but fearing James more. The guards stood at attention at doorways, whilst others marched in unit groups up and down the halls, or some took to their patrols in groups of two or three. A few swords hung from the walls, beautifully decorated with diamonds and gold and other expensive materials, each worth 100 times more than James own.

And then at each door way, one to the kitchen, one to the feast hall, one to the throne room, above everyone, hung the Sezonian banner, with the coat of arms upon it. It was one which the recent king had created, and was of a white dove upon a red background, meant to symbolise the Sezonian peace. But to James it was a symbol of weakness. He looked scornfully upon each one, though he was carful that no one saw his expressions, he was not treasonous.

Then it was up to the mighty wooden doors to the kings meeting hall, the guards stood in their yellow and orange armour, the dove of Sezonia on their breastplate, their chests puffed up with pride. Rightfully so too, for they were the kings royal guard.

James marched into the room, where the king sat at the end of a large table with four of his knights and nobles already sitting around him. The walls had windows posted high up, letting squares of light trace across the floor. And below those windows, yet more of the banners of Sezonia hung, each with torches lighting them in an eerie orange light.

The men were quietly murmuring to one an other, and looked up to greet James as he walked up to the table.

James knew two of the men at the table, besides the king. Closest to the king, on the kings right side was his cousin from his mothers far side, Thomas Mason. He hadn’t seen the man more than once but what he heard of him and the little he knew told James they were not to become friends. The Masons were not a long held noble family, but had come to power and wealth recently. Thomas Masons father, James Mason, had made his name at the Battle of the Shor, during the Asenthan war. Now his son took up his office in his fathers place, but with half the courage and double the arrogance.

‘An arrogant and self centred ass’ James thought to himself with a grimace ‘I wouldn’t think twice about running a sword through his gut’

The other man was a knight from the Port North, Jonathan Archer, whom James was well aquatinted with. Fifteen years older than James, he had come from a noble family but was humble and a kind and receiving man. He had taken James as a kind of apprentice after his parents death, and James owed him much, and would willing die for the man.

But the other two men James was not acquainted with, and knew little of what the think of them.

“Your majesty” James said as he approached and stood near a seat on the kings left side “It seems this meeting is not in the favourable light of joyous times?”

“That is of no concern to you” Mason said with an air of supremacy over James, confirming James ill feelings toward the man “You know little of war or trouble”

“And you do?” The king looked at Mason scoldingly “Take a seat James”

James took a seat a way along from the others on the kings left. He looked across the table at Mason, a challenging expression of disgust on both mens faces.

“James, we were just discussing the current attitude of the people” Archer interrupted “What are the people thinking in the North East?”

“I am sure we do not need to be shy about the situation, I beg your pardon you majesty” James nodded to the king in respect “The situation is dire, and the kingdom a mess. And we all know it” James pulled from his pocket a piece of paper and read from it quickly “Twenty of the kings guards killed in a riot at the town granary. Eight killed preventing looting along the main street. Sir Staane and his wife robbed by bandits” He looked up at the king “Yes I doubt Sir Staane will be attending today. This is the North East’s weekly report, and it is only Thursday today, the riots and looting are becoming more and more rampart, there is no denying it. And the North East is the most peaceful of all the cities and towns of Sezonia”

The door opened as James spoke and in came a group of seven other nobles, who greeted and took seats along the table. James was cut off for a second while the king’s attention went to greeting the others. James coughed to bring the attention back to the report he was giving.

“As I was saying” James continued “The North East is out of control. We have lost almost fifty soldiers this month to defending the granary and armoury, as well as preventing looting and total anarchy!”

“I understand this” The king interrupted James rant “You have been requesting reinforcements for the past three months. But I do not control the weather. You will get your soldiers, so don’t make this my fault, I didn’t cause your peoples poverty from a bad harvest, I can not control the harvest”

“Yes but an accountant can see that we can not afford to feed even half of our people, and with tax so high they can’t afford to feed themselves, which is your fault, your highness”

“May I interrupt” Archer said quickly, stopping James from pushing any further “It appears to me that it is a simple matter of redistributing rations and forces”

“And an accountant will tell you” James jumped back in “One loaf of bread in the north does not make three in the south”

“You do not care for the peoples welfare!” Mason raised his voice up above James “You simply wish to take these resources and forces for yourself, to build your own treasury!”

“Thats is a lie!” James shouted back “Your people live in slums while you sit in a castle, you are a pig Mason!”

The king rose to his feet “Enough!” he said, and everyone returned to sitting respectfully “No one here is to blame for this! If you are going to point at one an other then you are naive fools!”

“The king is right” a voice came from the door way, a man in his forties, strong built and with a trimmed grey beard and a scar that ran across one side of his forehead. But yet he looked approachable and kind, a good man “We all know the true cause, and to deny it is foolishness on your part. We have not near a tenth of the army we should, and half of our grain is taken away as tribute, and with every passing year the amount taken increases”

James knew the man, Prince Lewis Rigile. A man who had led the battle charge some thirty years before against Asentha, and had been a mighty general and grand warrior. He had been appalled when his father surrendered, a thing that not one king in the line of Rigile had done before. Everyone of his forefathers would have died in battle before they raised a white flag. And he would have too, but it had not been his decision to make.

Prince Rigile took a seat at the far end of the table, opposite the king who sat at the other. Despite being the prince and heir to the throne after his father the king, he was lorded as a seperate entity to the royals. His father would have disowned him and found an other heir if he could, but the king didn’t make hard decisions like that, not anymore, thankfully for the prince. Prince Lewis often debated against the rest of his house, including the king. The prince was a military man with no taste for politics, and would voice the hard questions and make the hard decisions, when it was possible for him. To some nobles he was seen as a great leader and voice in the royal court, someone to be admired and followed. But to most others, he was an enemy of the monarchy.

James personally held the prince in high esteem, and he would take concerns to him, who would listen, before he took matters to the king. The prince was more reasonable and just, and not corrupted by cowardice or bribes. James though didn’t know the prince on any level other than the prince, and a great military general.

“And, Lewis” The kings said disdainfully “What is it you suppose we do?”

“We build an army as we have done before, we secretly train our soldiers for a liberation war against our oppressors” Prince Lewis said drawing his sword and watching it glitter in the soft yellow light “We fight back, and this time we do it properly, we do not shrink back again in fear!”

“No disrespect Prince” Mason said disrespectfully “But I think you forget of your last campaign in such an endeavour. A war with Asentha would mean certain death and full occupation to me, you, and everything Sezonia is and stands for”

“And if we do not fight, we will face the same fate!” a voice said raising from his seat, a younger man named Sental whom James had seen before and spoken to briefly.

“Sit down all of you!” the king had to shout once again “And return your sword to its place Lewis”

“We are going in circles” James voiced “We have tried to find an alternative for 16 years, and nothing has become better, instead it is worse! The only option is war.”

“You are too keep for war son of Kant!” Mason said “You are young and still foolish in these affairs!”

“I stand with the Prince!” James said “For not an other has seen battle as he has, what he says is true!”

“You are a fool!” Mason shouted back.

“And you are a coward!”

“Take your personal quarrels elsewhere!” Archer now said “But for my part, let it be noted that I too stand with the prince in this mater”

“And I!” shouted a number of the others in attendance.

“Lewis! You will not bring division to my house, nor destruction to my kingdom!” The king said, now himself standing “Not in my life, nor in your reign to come!”

Everyone took a seat, and the room went silent. No one dared to share their thoughts now, instead they feared the anger of the King or Prince, not wanting to displease either. Then the King broke the silence:

“We will reconvene in an hour, go back to your chambers and gather your thoughts, as will I”