The day’s hearings had been long and tedious. Duncan was currently in the main hall sitting on his throne with Alex standing by his side. They had spent the entire morning listening to the various ramblings of praise and trivial complaints from the numerous nobles of the court. Right now he was listening to whining of Lord Ademar. Once again the peasants that lived on his land were refusing to pay their taxes and he was now asking the crown to send troops to enforce the law. Of course the peasants wouldn't have rebelled in the first place had Ademar not continuously raised his taxes.
"I understand your predicament Lord Ademar, but most of the imperial army is fighting the Manshrew Alliance in Telmarion at the moment. The few left behind are needed to keep order in Nyhem," Replied Alex once Ademar had finally finished his rambling.
"But if these peasants are left unpunished, then their actions will surely influence peasants elsewhere. If we don't deal with this soon we could have a full rebellion on our hand!" Ademar said loudly. Though he was clearly exaggerating, he was able to convince the various other court nobles who had gathered in the hall so as to watch the hearings. Their murmurers of agreement and nodding heads clearly showed that they were in agreement with him. Though Duncan knew this matter was entirely Ademar's fault he still had to take his side on this matter. After all, appeasing the royal court was the entire point of these hearings.
"I will send twenty of my personal guard to handle this Lord Ademar. They should be more than sufficient for this task." A smile of satisfaction grew on Lord Ademar's face; he had accomplished what he had come here to do. Not only had he found a way to stop his troublesome rebels, but the fact that the king was sending his own bodyguards would make him the envy of the other nobles. Yet his smile quickly disappeared once Duncan started speaking again. "However I warn you that if you continue to be unable to control the land that I have given you then I will give it to someone who can. Understood?"
"Certainly sir. And thank you, your grace," stammered Ademar as he bowed before hurrying out of the room. Duncan let out a hidden sigh as the last hearing of the day was about to commence. Alex took a step forward before calling:
"Sir Lycaon Issorat, please approach his grace."
Lycaon approached King Duncan, his pristine steel armor shining, as Alex gave the proper announcement. Lycaon had brought only a small amount of people with him; two of his trusted knights and four servants carrying a chest were all who came with him. There was Sir Daeleth, an old and dear friend who Lycaon would entrust his life to, and Sir Antony, a young and inexperienced knight whom Lycaon saw much potential in. It was truly a pain to always remain in plate armor, excepting the helmet, even in public settings, but it was necessary to keep up appearances. Lycaon had been gone for a long while now, and had been disconnected from the deeper intrigues of the court, but now he was going to rejoin it all. He couldn’t say that he had missed it, but he also knew that it would not do at all for him if he were to continue to be withdrawn from it. Lycaon strode into the great hall, where the court had gathered, and saw the Snake sitting comfortably on the throne he had stolen from John the Last.
Lycaon waited for his turn in order to talk to the new King. He heard the mutterings of nobles as he approached, and was immediately reminded of worse times. He recognized some of the nobles from years past, when he had been active in the court of the previous Kings. Many, however, he did not recognize. It seemed that much had changed in his long absence. He heard a little of their mutterings and whispers, some who wondering why he had returned, some snickering at him, all of them wondering what it was he was going to say to King Duncan.
“Salutations, my King,” said Lycaon, with a pleasant slight smile on his face, and he was bowing to him on his knee. “I bring you not any news of disasters or request, but rather a gift. Know, my King who ever has the blessings of the gods, that the Holy Order of Saint Elenor dutifully serves as your shield and sword, should you ever need it of it. I must apologize for not arriving sooner, for Church business had urgently called me away.”
It was then that Sir Daeleth motioned the servants, and they went ahead of their master, Lycaon, and towards Duncan, though far away enough from him so that his guards would not be wary of them. One of the servants opened the wooden box to reveal a number of gifts. There was an odd sword, beautifully crafted and unlike that which is seen anywhere in the Kingdom, as well as a number of fabrics, and the rest of the chest was filled with gold.
“The Church, humbly expressing their continued support of your gracious reign, has endeavored to have me deliver to you a number of things which by right belong only to you,” said Lycaon. “I give to you gold a token of gold, a dozen pearls, and a golden crown once worn by great Queen Ysabelle herself in years past. I know not why, how, and when the Church came across it, but it only seemed proper that it all was to be returned to you. I request of you nothing save that you know that the Church and all of its affiliates forever are with you.”
Duncan's eyes widened at the sight of Lycaon’s gift. Though it was not uncommon for subjects to give gifts to their monarchs during these hearings, he had never seen nor heard of someone giving this much. There was enough gold in the chest to fund a small army. Many of the court nobles gasped at the sight of the knight’s gift and conversed among each other far louder than they had previously. As grand as the offering was, Duncan knew that no one gave a gift like this without expecting some sort of reward in return, despite what Lycaon claimed. Duncan paused as he waited for the room to quiet down.
"I greatly thank you for this gift, Sir Lycaon, and I am more than happy to accept, though I must question how you came into possession of this and under what authority you have to give it to me. Surely the churches, 'donations', are managed by High Cleric Mildred," Duncan said suspiciously. He knew that this man had acted outside of Mildred’s orders. After all, in all the years he had known the High Cleric, she had never given so much as a single bronze coin to anyone, let alone a chest with enough gold to make the Ironbarks envious.
Lycaon knew that Duncan was suspicious, and he supposed that such a feeling was only natural, for the Grand Cleric was indeed a miserable and selfish human being. Nonetheless, Lycaon’s expression remained unchanged.
“Indeed, my King, her holiness the Grand Cleric Mildred is in charge of all donations,” Lycaon said. “And I am but her emissary.”
What Duncan did not know was the situation in which Mildred had agreed to part with it. She was very greedy, but she eventually had assented with these trinkets when Lycaon promised her that it would mean for her great power. He also had to give to her one additional favor, and that fortunately already was already dealt with. On a whim she desired Sir Antony, and Lycaon gave him to her for a night. The gold was his own, anyway.
"I see," Duncan replied, still suspicious of the event that had just transpired. "In which case, please give the high cleric my deepest thanks and assure her the money will be spent on helping the people of Formaroth." Not that Mildred would care how it was spent, he thought to himself. Knowing Mildred, she would only be willing to give this much away if she wanted something of huge significance. The question was what? Duncan paused for a moment as he stared at Lycaon, the man's name seemed familiar, though he could not place where he had heard it.
"Tell me Sir Lycaon, your title seems familiar to me, however to my shame I am unable to remember where I have heard it before?"
Lycaon was surprised by this, and worried. People rarely are glad to meet old enemies, and even excepting the odd situation the post-bellum world had created, that in general remained true.
"I apologize, my King," Lycaon said. "I shall try to the best of my ability to answer my sovereign's question, but I am unsure if my answer shall prove satisfactory. I am the founder and Grand Master of the Holy Order of Saint Elenor. We are not an order too great in age, but we have been active a number of years. We have done much in charity work, I must say. In this very city, in fact."
"I see," Duncan said. So this was the leader of the Order of Saint Elenor. Though the man's identity still eluded Duncan, he had heard about his order and their various actions throughout Nyhem during numerous council meetings. Until now he had never paid them much mind. After all, they had been little more than a small band of knights working for the church. Duncan had no idea that their influence over the Church and the High Cleric herself had greatly increased to the point that their leader was an emissary on her behalf. Duncan's face lit up as an idea crossed his mind.
"Tell me Sir, you claim that the Church is willing to fully support the crown and my claim. Being such a prominent member of the Church, surely you have some ideas of how the church can better the lives of those living in Formaroth?”
"The Church does much for the people, or at least all it can," Lycaon said. "Of course the Church will provide to those in need. The meek, the hungry, the poor, the homely; the Church shall take them all in, and does. Yet charity alone is not enough. I have seen, and though it is commendable, there are many who come seeking charity, then return a week later for the same reason. Meeting such a man, I resolved to meet his problem head-on, and this turned out to be the proper methodology. This means cooperation between the Church and State, and this should come as no surprise, for the Church and the Kingdom are one, just as the gods decree."
As Lycaon spoke a smile slowly grew on Duncan's face. This man would serve his plans well.
"In which case you and I share a common point of view. I myself have been wanting closer co-operation between the Crown and the Church. As such. I am looking for someone to act as my representative within the church. To speak on my behalf and make my views known. Tell me, Sir Lycaon, would you be interested in taking up such a role?"
"I would be delighted and honored, my King," Lycaon said.
Yet Lycaon knew that he must be cautious. Duncan was King, and so there was little room for open disagreement with him. He was also not someone who would be easy to manipulate, if it was indeed possible at all. Lycaon had seen that much already.
"Very good. Do make the High Cleric aware of your new elevated position, I am sure she will be delighted," Duncan said as he continued smiling. Though the church had very little influence over the politics of Formaroth, in the turn the crown also had very little influence over the church. The only way Duncan could convince the church representatives to do anything was via very expensive bribes. If he could have a man on the inside to support his intentions, then he could finally gain the control that he always wanted over the church. After all, whoever controlled the church also controlled the minds of the people.
"Of course, my King," Lycaon said. "I shall send an emissary at once."
Lycaon bowed and withdrew himself from close proximity to the King, so that he could approach again his cohorts without offense to the sovereign.
"Sir Antony, you shall be my emissary," Lycaon said.
Antony knew better than to make any complaints or groans in public. That would draw too much attention to himself. He knew, however, that Lycaon knew how much he hated it. Lycaon did indeed know, but he saw it necessary to send Antony away for now. Not only was the Grand Cleric partial to him, but Lycaon would also prefer to have Daeleth by his side.
