Lords of Equestria

by ZatGeneral

Chapter 4: The Masked King

Chapter 4: The Masked King

The stallions of the King’s Guard wore full mithril plate armor from head to hoof with flowing crests and capes of beautiful tyrian purple. The armor was of shining gilded gold and fine amethysts. They wielded shields and halberds were just as decorated as their armor and made of mithril as well, no doubt.

Word seemed to spread around the castle quickly-all of Steel Lance’s knights flooded into the courtyard. They watched in awe as the King's Guard slowly made their way to the castle.

Steel Lance looked upon his knights, all had the same expression. Wonder, astonishment, disbelief were visible on their faces. Then, something occurred to him.

“What are you waiting for!?” shouted Steel Lance, “Get into formation! Show the King we are not the common rabble we were born into!”

The knights clattered into a tight formation. They stood shoulder to shoulder, all of them, even Steel Lance got into line. When the King’s Guard entered the castle, the air became charged with power. The King’s Guard marched in such synchronization it put the ticking of clocks to shame. What the knights did not expect was the King himself.

They’ve all heard tales about the Masked Griffin King of Castillia. Many told that the King wore the mask to hide his disfigured face. Others made a claim that the Mask belonged to a disgraced forefather. Seeing the Masked King in the flesh instantly destroyed the glory in those tales. There, sitting on a gilded platform carried by his guards, was a sickly looking figure. He only wore a thin cuirass nearly concealed by his cloak. This marble white cloak sheathed his entire body while a cape of tyrian purple fluttered in the breeze. His adamantine mask glittered with unworldly beauty that was sharply contrasted by his gangly form. It glittered in the late morning sun like the churning stars of the Milky Way. The mask was peaked with the purest Castillian gold that had been shaped into a crown. The crown was studded with diamonds that sparkled like drops of morning dew.

Lance and his knights knelt as the King’s procession entered the castle. Truly, something important must be happening at the castle for the King himself to have ventured out here. Lance managed to catch Lord Guirbaden at the edge of his eye, standing with his usual regal expression. It angered Lance slightly to see Guirbaden not kneel before the King as he was lowered from his platform.

The entire castle was dead silent as the King slowly stood to full height. He seemed to have trouble doing so but the guards instinctively grabbed their King and hoisted him up onto his feet. The King slowly walked over to Guirbaden, his light armor rattling.

“My King!” spoke Guirbaden enthusiastically, “Welcome to Castle Light Tower!”

The King raises his hand at first to greet, but continues as if trying to stop Guirbaden from speaking.

“Where is he?” The King’s voice spoke with the strength of ten men, a strong contrast to his lack of physical power. “ Where is the Captain of Light Tower?”

Guirbaden’s regal expression turned sour upon hearing the King’s question. “Surely you do not wish to-”

Again, the King raised his hand, quieting Guirbaden with his commanding presence. “I will ask again. Where is the Captain of Light Tower?”

“I am here, my King.” Steel Lance spoke but remained kneeled over. He dared not insult his King by standing. Moments after he spoke, a shadow was cast over Lance. The King’s gilded sabatons replaced the muddy cobblestone in Lance’s view. Even then he would not look upon the glory that was his King.

“Rise.”

“My... my King?”

“It is considered respectful to look at ones eyes in a conversation.”

Steel Lance looked up to see the King’s gauntlet reaching out to him. He was unsure what the King was ensuing. He looked at the King’s mask and quickly looked back down with his heart in his throat. The King chuckled slightly at Lance’s nervousness.

“You would offend your King more if you didn’t take his gesture of kindness.”

Lance looked up again at the King’s gauntlet. He’d heard it was respectful to kiss a ring on a member of nobility but the King had not presented his gauntlet in the normal fashion. Lance thought that the King couldn’t be extending his withered hand to help him up but all the evidence was there. He grabbed the King’s gauntlet, only to be hoisted to his hooves by the King himself.

“That was not so difficult wasn’t it?”

“My... My King...”

Lord Guirbaden walked up to the King in protest, steaming over the fact that Lance, a stallion born to a lesser family needed not greet the King properly. “My King! Is it truly your wish to talk to this... this peasant! I must object as he has nothing to say!”

The King turned to Guirbaden in a manner that displayed his true strength. Lance thought it was another attempt to silence the Griffon. He watched as the King simply stood there in silence as Lord Guirbaden ranted on about Lance’s heritage. When it appeared that the King had enough of Guirbaden’s blabbering, the King struck Guirbaden with the back of his gauntlet. Lance’s eyes widened as he jerked back in surprise. Guirbaden fell to the floor, dazed and bleeding slightly.

“Whatever have I done to displease you, my King?” said Guirbaden as he went from staggering to grovelling.

The King responded with a have of his hand and at an instant, his King’s Guard subdued Guirbaden and lifted him to eye level with the King.

“Keep that silver tongue inside your diseased beak, Guirbaden.” The King looked sternly at Guirbaden before waving his hand again. “Get this vermin out of my sight.”

“MY KING WAIT!” shouted Guirbaden as he was forcibly dragged back into his keep.

“My King? Why would you do that to one of your noble vassals?” asked Lance with a concerned tone.

The King slowly turned away from Steel Lance. “He may be highborn, but Guirbaden is anything but noble. Come. Let us walk.” He turned to his King’s Guard and Lance’s knights. “Leave us,” said the King as he motioned his hand in the gentle breeze.

The King’s guard snapped to attention and mechanically moved to defensive positions along the castle walls and courtyard. Lance’s knights were confused at first, but after looking at the King’s Guard’s action, took it upon themselves to retreat back into the keep.

Lance stood in awe at the King’s Guard. He envied how well disciplined they were and dearly wished he could lead stallions like them. His was broken from his daze when the King once again told him to follow. He did so quickly, catching up to the slow moving King.

“So, why do you wish to talk to me, My King?”

“When Guirbaden sent word about Castle Light Tower coming under siege by the Fengarians and how his ‘valiant peasant captain’ repelled the attack, I had to see the outcome with my own eyes.”

Steel Lance felt a knot in his throat. The King’s unbelieving tone frightened him. What if he knows? How could he know? He had to say something. He had to know for sure. “And what do you think of the outcome?”

“The outcome is exactly as Guirbaden described it as. You ‘disposed’ of the bodies and are in the process of cleaning the battlefield.” The King reached for the Fengarian Sword on Lance’s waist and drew it from its sheath. “I see you’ve already take your prize.”

“My King... you know exactly what happened. Why did you come all the way from Castle Alabaster to talk to a peasant?”

The King made his way up to the battlements, though the stairs seemed to give him trouble. He nearly slipped and would have fallen if Lance had not caught him.

“Thank you, good sir. As for why I’m here, I may know everything Guirbaden has told me, it’s what I don’t know that drove me here.”

“And what is it you do not know, My King?”

“The color of the Fengarian amor.”

“Why would the color of their armor e of any significance, My King?” Steel Lance cocked his head, displaying his confusion and curiosity.”

“It is often the minor details we overlook that end up being the most important.” The King ran his gauntlet across the Fengarian blade, the mithril fingertips creating a small ring when they catch the engraved characters.

Steel Lance had missed the markings, though his excuse of being bedridden for a few days would have been acceptable. His thoughts turned to the King’s words. Heeding them, Lance spoke. “Their armor was a... dark salmon color. It was trimmed with a pale brass of some sorts. But that wasn’t all. Some soldiers had armor colored like... a fern’s green and trimmed with steel.” Lance looked out to the sea in deep thought, wondering what the color of the Fengarian’s armor had to do with anything. He turned to his King to see a very grim look in the King’s eyes. A deep and disappointing sigh was the King’s only response. Steel Lance knew he was in deep trouble. His heart stopped, his breathing quickened and he broke eye contact with the King.

“Do you know the old tales, Sir Lance? The old tales of the war between Castillia and Fengaria?”

Lance was surprised that his King addressed him as ‘Sir’. He knew he had not been properly knighted yet but he decided to hold his tongue on the subject. “The tales of how Castle Alabaster held off the Fengarians?”

“Yes, those tales. What do you know of them?”

“I...” Lance recalled the tales that his father would tell when he was a child. He breathed deeply, preparing to recite everything he knew. “The Fengarians came from the far west, nearly two hundred years ago,” said Steel Lance as he waved his hand over the sea, slowly sweeping over the horizon. “They came here during Castillia’s War of the Three Kings. We were unprepared and they swept over our lands like the Forsaken Plague before. It wasn’t until their defeat at Castle Alabaster, that they were driven back. Even in defeat, they still managed to hold the island of Former’Sa though.” Only when he was finished speaking did Lance realised he had horribly condensed the many stories his father told him. He prayed that the King did not think he was a fool.

“Is that all you remember?”

“Well, no. I’ve only given a brief summ-”

The King raised his hand and Lance stopped talking immediately. “Do you remember the excerpts about the color of their armor, Sir Lance?”

Lance tried to speak, but he really couldn’t recall the color of Fengarian armor. He stuttered, trying hard to remember what his father told him so long ago.

“Dim drums throbbing, in the hills half heard,

Where only on a nameless throne a crownless prince has stirred,

Where, risen from the west, a foe clad in shadow and night,

Forced the last knight of Home to take weapons from the fight,”

Lance was impressed by how the King’s voice flowed with emotion. Cowed by this, Lance took every word to heart. “They wore black armor, my King?”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Then...”

“It would seem our Fengarian adversaries are not the single massive entity we thought of them.”

“How can you be so sure, my King?”

The King laid her stunning gauntlets on Lance’s breastplate. He ran a talon over the small ruby inserted into the collar plate as if pointing at the answer. “What house do you serve, Sir Lance?”

“House Light Tower... I served House Honeywine before this, my King.”

“I can tell. You still carry the Honeywine Ruby. Tell me, was your armor forged there as well?”

“I’m afraid that it would seem you already know the answer, my King.”

“I do.” The King slowly ran the tips of his gauntlets over the smooth curves of his pauldrons. “Only soldiers and Knights from Honeywine have such smooth armor. Armor from the north have much harsher and simpler designs. while armor from the south features designs similar to Buckzantium armor.” The King retracted his hand and arms back into his long cloak.

“And what you’re trying to say, my King... is that the Fengarians display their House allegiance through the color of their armor?”

“From what you’re telling me, yes. Either that or the Fengarians had a regime change. Regardless, Lord Guirbaden had you attack a faction of Fengaria that might have been indifferent to us. Tell me, what did he promise you in return for this deed? Glory? Wealth?“

Steel Lance knew he was performing a foul deed but he never realised that it was a treacherous as this. He removed his helmet in shame as he dropped his ears and lowered his head. “I am truly sorry, my King. If there is anything, anything at all I can do to redeem my actions, I will do it.”

“There is nothing you can do at this point. However, I would like to know Guirbaden’s motive for this act.” The King slowly turned his head away from Lance and stared at the skyscraping castle. “What did he seek to gain from this?”

Guirbaden’s threat rang loudly in Lance’s mind. ‘The King will not find out and if he does... l’ll find the despot who dared to challenge the word of House Light Tower, and gut him myself.’ He thought ill to break the oath that he made with Guirbaden. But, then again, he never swore to anything and lying to the King of Castillia is, or should, be considered a crime.

Lance looked back up at his King and stared right into his eyes. “By faking an attack against Castle Light Tower, Lord Guirbaden hoped that the Crown would grant him troops and money to train more soldiers.”

“Faking an attack? How so?”

“Guirbaden had my company and I attack a band of Fengarians two days south from here.” Lance sighed before lowering his head again. “I should have said no... but... I was just...”

“You were tempted with the prospects of fame and glory?”

“Yes... yes I was.”

“So you and your knights attacked a Fengarian escort? What else did Guirbaden ask you to do?”

“He asked me to bring back a mare... said she would be the one wearing fine robes.”

“And you didn’t think that was the least bit suspicious?”

“Not... not at the time... the Fengarians were and are our kingdom’s enemy and my Lord did make it sound like I was doing the kingdom a favor...” Lance slow began to kneel, awaiting whatever punishment the King would give him. When he knelt lowly, there was no blow from the King. No sting of mithril or crack of struck flesh. Only a sigh of disappointment, though that single sigh cut Lance deeper than any of his wounds.

“Hopefully the Fengarians will view your bannerless knights as nothing more than bandits after you looted them... Castilla cannot handle a war... not after the rebellions... We are weak... ”

Lance knew about the rebellions better than anyone. His father lost his noble status because of them. “I’m sorry, my King. I truly am. I let my ambitions get the better of me... I should have known that the rebellions weakened out Kingdom greatly...”

“There’s no way you could have known. You were raised with stories of how knights defeated the northern barbarians, tales of kings felling the pirates from the south, songs of how armies pushed back the slavers to the east and scripture of great victories against the enemy of the west.” The King scoffed upon finishing his sentence. “Do the stories even mention how many northern villages the knights sacked? Did the tales ever tell you that the children of the Marble Islands were starving? Do the songs even-” If his uproar, the King began to stumble as physical weakness was stressed to the breaking point. Lance quickly stood up to catch The King. Lance Braced himself for what he thought would be a fairly heavy load, but the King felt light, as light as a young colt. It was a disturbing that a fifty year old Griffin could weigh this much.

“Thank you, good Sir...” puffed the King.

“My King, are you well?”

“I was born ill. Did you know that, Sir Lance?”

“I did not, your grace.”

“I was born stunted, the lesser of all my siblings... My eldest brother lost his life early in the rebellion. My elder sister, murdered by the usurpers.”

“I’m... sorry for your loss, my King.”

“Do not be. My brother foolhardily fought against an army that outnumbered his three to one. My sister believed she could reason with the rebels who wanted my family dead.”

Lance wasn’t sure what to think. He looked upon his King with a bit of disdain. How could he talk about his family like that?

“And then there was me. The last thing my father wanted to see on the throne. The clerics told my father that I would have died at the age of twenty.” The King, seeming empowered by his own words, stood up to his full height and under his own power. “And look at me now. I’m either the luckiest leper or the most stubborn.”

“The Kingdom would be less without you, my King.”

“The Kingdom is on the brink of collapse, sir Lance... All these noble families know my time is nearly at an end... I’m thirty years overdue for my death and the moment my heart stops beating they’ll claw at each other for the throne.”

“But... don’t you have an heir, your Grace?”

“Does it look like I can produce a legitimate heir, Sir Lance?”

“I-I did not mean to offend you, your Grace!” Lance was surely panicking now. The knots in his throat from before were nothing compared to this. “What would you have me do to prevent our Kingdom from falling?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? My King, surely you must be-”

Lance saw the King raise his hand in the same manner before Guirbaden was struck across his face. He immediately silenced himself, hoping that this would prevent such a strike.

“You won’t really be doing nothing. You will continue to serve Guirbaden as he see’s fit, but take note of anything and everything he does.”

“M-my King?” stuttered Lance in surprise

“Was I not clear? You are to fight for Guirbaden, joust for Guirbaden, cook, clean, swab or whatever Guirbaden desires. You will be his Captain, you will earn his trust, you will do nothing to implicate that I, the King, distrust Lord Guirbaden of House Light Tower.”

“You... you can’t be serious. Guirbaden could have started a war and all you want me to do is spy on him?”

“And what will you so, Sir Lance? Run your sword through him and be done with it? Guirbaden is many things but a fool is not one of them. How do you think he knew of the Fengarian escort while the Crown knew nothing? Guirbaden has ears everywhere and the Crown needs them from time to time... however, just because his many ears work doesn’t mean his one mouth always does. That is where you come in. You will protect your King from the many lies that Guirbaden tells.”

“If Lord Guirbaden has as many ears as you say, is telling me this dangerous, my King?”

“Why do you think I had my King’s Guard leave the two of us alone? Up here, there’s no one. No secret doors, no hidden rooms, just a thick wall, sky and sea.”

Lance sighed at the prospect of being a spy. He grew up hearing stories about how there was no glory or honor in being such a lowly agent. He was conflicted though, this was a duty tasked to him by the King. Though his feeling were mixed, there was no more definitive answer.

“Then I accept, your Grace.”

“Good. Good. I’ll see you are rewarded when the time comes, Sir Lance. Until then though, go back to your master like the dog you are.”

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