A Duke Amongst Gods.

by Bbot


Water Locked

Stultus took his father’s bag of coins and unleashed a hail of gold to the surface of his desk. The coin heaped into a hill of gold and with a grubby smile, he counted diligently. He assembled the counted to their own pillar of gold and brushed the unneeded sum to the floor. The sensuous sound of gold hitting rock threw his heart into a race. He took the pillar of gold and sprawled it evenly on his desk. “1, 2 ,3 ,4 ,5.” he said aloud as he swiped coins into his pouch. The pouch filled with gold and when the last septum fell “100!” he yelled out. He coiled the bag closed and formed three knots with the excess lace, for the added insurance. He slipped into his silk bathrobe, his father had gifted him last autumn as a joking gesture to his fright of water. His family coat of arms bore it's back; a black hydra burdening three heads, their necks stretched to each end of the shield they embed, howling to a watery stream of red lining to right of the shield.

He made for his door and sealed it shut behind him. To find those gold pieces looted away, because of his adventures siblings, would be infuriating. With his back to the door, he sat there silent for any disruptions—guards loafing about, his siblings muscling one another for some ridiculous race they would host in the halls, or his father strolling about, like he would, if he found the energy to do so. Nothing had reached his ears, so he began. It may have been too early for such a dramatic start to his day. The castle was completely devoid, not a single soul, the rats from the cellar even kept to their own that day. An adventurous bunch below there, they explored and scavenged freely in the early hours if Dulce and Mortem weren't awake and sporting a hunt for their tails. Stultus caught them more than once chasing rodents up and about the castle, he would tell them they would become ill from the animals blood or even from it's bite, but held back in wonderment if one of them would get bitten. Less pain and trouble to be dealt with, he thought. And would it really rot like father said?

Stultus escaped the chamber hall and to the balcony directly over his fathers throne. He made his way down the stairs and to the floor of his father's high room. His high room stretched a lengthy pace, portraits of him standing on his hind legs and with his sword drawn out and stilted to the floor with his claws resting on it’s hilt, lined continuously on the walls. Expertly crafted and by the same artist, he believed. The look in his eyes repeated and never changed,solid and emotionless, but with a smile peeking on the corner of his face. His throne was at the other end of his high room, what a petrifying feeling to simply confront him, seated on his throne of course.

Stultus leaned on the oak doors leading to the castle's yard. Clouds gathered above and hued and suns rays to it’s layers. He hid his pouch under the safety of his robe and continued to the barracks. He flew over the wall and to the town’s courtyard. He landed near his father’s statue and saw no one. The town seemed like it were raided but nothing of value was taken but that of life. Merchants and their stand laid barren and the guards were all absent to their post. He rushed to the barracks and with three heavy strikes to the door yelled,”Hello!? Anyone alive?!” he kept a wary eye to his back and struck again.

The door opened to the sound of rusted hinges and lead to a void of darkness. A heavily plated griffon appeared from the darkness, with his sword sheathed and to his side. He stood on his hind legs and approached Stultus. .

“Aw… Gladium, just the griffon I wanted to see.” He said with a plastered smile.

Gladium stood silent and bore down at Stultus with his golden eyes. He was heavy with the smell of liquor. He picked at the scare that traced his neck and lead into his armor. A new addition to his appearance, Stultus thought, but was too afraid to mention it. His coat was black, it was difficult to see, he might have not even care for it’s appearance or forgot it himself and was simply picking it for the sensation..

“Stultus? What do you think you’re doing?” He said settling back down on all fours and with a stern look.

“I need to see you!”

“I understand that, but why are you here at the barracks, and at such an early hour? It was your fathers birth yesterday, he bought the entire town 50 kegs worth of brew. It seems it takes more than a few hours of sleep to clean the system of that fluid.” he laughed. “And not to mention… your birth is today, as well.” He said smiling with anticipation for the towns next public gift. “16 is it?” his voiced lighten to a higher pitch.

Stultus noded, “I turned a month ag- ”

“16 and legal, finally! Now you can come drinking with the guard, like you always wanted!”

Stultus raised a brow, unable to recall the memory. “I’ve never said that.”

Gladium put a claw to the back of his neck, “Then who am I talking about? Oh nevermind, what does the Duke’s son require of me at such a ridicules hour; training in the sword, flight combat, archery, the leading of troops? I am at your command.” he graciously bowed and awaited his word.

“Do you recall the proposition I made to you, back in the tavern, not to long ago? Well... ” Stultus removed his claw from under his robe and presented the pouch. He held the pouch by it’s lace and rattled it gently, so the sound of coin voiced to Gladium’s ears. Stultus gave Gladium a sly smile.

“You’re not serious?” he squinted his eyes, his voice now in a fright “This must be some test?” his face completely perplexed, he stood on his hind legs and reached for the hilt of his sword. “Tell me this is a joke, boy! A test for my loyalty, is it?!” he raised his voice to a fury, “Pathetic that your father resorts to this. Dux, show yourself!” He said, lashing out into the air and scanning his surroundings.

“Shhh!” Stultus hissed, “Gladium, this no test, now settle yourself.”

“Then what is it?!” Gladium sneered.

Stultus reeled away from Gladium, “What I told you.”

Gladium feel back to all fours and gave another look to his surroundings. “Stultus,” he began with panic in his voice, “how could you? This is… This is treason, and forbidden by the crown, not even the true crown allows for this. If you were to be discovered...” He whispered.

“Do you not believe I do not understand that!” Stultus bursted, then lowering his tone when he caught wind of his volume, “I’ve take everything to consideration, I understand the punishment and I’m more than willing to take it. Think, Gladium, if this were to succeed, your position in my father’s council—my council—would be secured. And with you and I, assisting one another, no one would fathom the thought.”

“But to murder your own, your own kin! It’s disgusting, and I refuse.” Gladium turned his back and made for the barracks.

Stultus took to the air and intercepted Gladium’s path. His words, ripe in his mouth, only lingered on the tip of his tongue. “500 then.” he sputtered.

500 gold was no laughing amount, it was incredible to own that amount. Even as a Duke that sum is not easy to gain. But for a commoner, or even a marshal, to gain that amount, was… unbelievable. The offer was beyond tempting, it spoke volumes, but his loyalty and pride spoke another sound. To kill his legis hairs so the eldest could own all it’s titles. Under griffin law, titles were to shared amongst the successors of that Duke or Lord, once they have past. But this break between, law, pride, and fame, had him by the neck.

“And what of Pax, your sister?” he whispered

“She’s been dealt with.”