Thy Kingdom Come

by Wayward Son

King's Court

Chapter Two ~ King’s Court

Hornwood Keep, Things there had changed since Handan’s rule, ten years since he had once roamed the halls of the Castle, ten years since his banner men took up arms and marched unwillingly into the south, The Equestrian war was just a distant memory for some, some the scars they bare and the ones they lost still haunts them. Roderick simply looks back upon those days with disappointment, the throwing away of life on such a whim and for no noble cause. He tended not to dwell on the past bad memories too much; to open such wounds would cause the death of even the strongest of men. He often thought though’ of the beauty of the land, and he would be fond to returning.

The King’s day of birth was a week and a half away, he anticipated the date anxiously, for soon he would be a year closer to becoming a man, and believe me the commoners need a man to lead them, not a child. There was of course Cecilia his wife; she anticipated her husband’s maturing for different reasons, for it takes a man to please such a needing woman. Right now he was in court; the Lords of the land rally around the king’s throne every new moon, to kiss his boots for aid in their earthly problems. This of course demanded the King’s Vanguard, to be ad his side, not to keep the peace but it was because the King simply loved having a group of men at his whim, he loved to flaunt his toy soldiers, and believed me he itched to play with them on a much larger scale.

Roderick’s abode was a small room in the Goose’s Nest, an inn planted on the King’s Lane, a long cobblestone street clustered with open shops and homes situated above them, in the evening the sun would shine directly down the street at dusk, illuminating it in a comforting orange glow before fading behind the castle, giving the stretching stone monolith it was quite an intimidating look. This is how it was at the moment; the hour drew to seven hours past noon.

The Vanguard was already assembled in the Great Hall, they just lacked Roderick’s presence, he was making himself presentable for the lords, he had trimmed his dark beard neatly so that it wrapped around his chin and mouth nicely, stretching up to the locks of his hair, and extended no further than that. He ran a hand across his face, feeling the small nick on his face just above his right chin, before running a hand through his long black hair, that just sank to his shoulders and no more, he messed up the fringe, letting his hair dangle which way or the other.

He adjusted his leather boots, tightening the strap over the rim of them, which ascended to mid-way up his calf. Their toes were that of steel, shining to perfection, dark padded trousers the length of his legs hung over the boots and were fastened with a silver buckle, a leather undershirt protected his torso, then was draped in a steel shell of a breast plate, gleaming it presented an engraved unicorn, that of the Windermere house, his sleeves were both red and black, and were protected by steel greaves, fastened with leather straps around his arms. He was ready.

He closed the door of his room behind him, twisting the iron key in the lock, before sliding it under a thatched matt that lay at his feet in front of the door, the hallway was musty and brown, smelt of mead and was quite humid, he anticipated the outside.

Leaving he was greeted by a familiar figure upon a stallion, griping a second horse by the saddle on his right. Martin, the King’s Uncle, cheated from the throne. He wore a similar outfit to that of Roderick, but the sleeves were green and white, he was a more aged man, middle-ages, greying black hair and a long beard that stopped at his chest. With a smile, Roderick clambered into the saddle, gently digging the spurs into the side of his steed; the two began to chat as they walked into the setting sun, towards the castle in the distance. People were walking past on the narrow street, clearing the way for the carts of hay in front of the pair, which they tended to stick behind.

“I never understood why the Silverbeard banner is that of a bear.” Roderick spoke, proceeding to make idle conversation as they made the short journey, bobbing along in his armour , a moment or two passed before Martin replied “Bear Fuckers, our ancestors were so fierce that we fucked bears.” He looked to Roderick with a grin, laughing internally at his quite blunt comment, Roderick laughed at the crude humour, “Aye, We Windermere’ loved unicorn cunt.” They both laughed in unison. Trotting across the wooden drawbridge, two Vanguards gave a salute to their Captain, placing a hand across their chest and bowing, he nodded in acknowledgement. The men two sentries wore that armour common amongst the Vanguard, plated steel armour, with the chest engraved with the house in which they are from or where their lords are from, most have the bear of Silverbeard, due to the family holding a majority of the Holds in the Kingdom. Their helmets were great helms, covering their faces besides the eyes, slits allowing them to see, and they often had feathers, extending from the top in a loom.

The stage hands had taken in the horses of the two, a stable was in the courtyard, along with a fountain and a small barracks with a thatched roof in which the sentries stayed, and sometimes it would have the pleasure of accommodating Roderick or another honoured guest.

The large wooden doors of the keep opened, the atrium was quite large, decorated with carvings of previous figureheads which dwelled within these halls, the most recent was that of Handan, was a sad sight to see such a man once so alive, cold in stone. A red carpet ran straight across the stone floor, leading to another set of large wooden doors, from within these doors was the king’s throne room, the king’s voice was muffled but audible through the doors, the couple gave long strides towards the two doors “The little prick has started without us.” Martin spoke, loud enough for anyone within the atrium to here, everyone besides the king understood that Martin had a dislike for his nephew, but felt it was his duty as a royal family member to support his often stupid decisions.

The doors swung open, the king stopped mid-sentence and all eyes drew to the late two, the lords stood on the right of the carpet, around ten of them formed in a square, all standing, and to the left of the carpet was the Vanguard that the king, as I previously mentioned. Loved to show off, around fifty of those individuals, armed with their side-arms of course, steel short blades. The king’s throne was larger than the Queens, it had a golden cousin, but Gregory had added one additional feature for it, a step to aid him onto it. The Queens was smaller, and sat a bit lower than the King’s on his left, it was decorated with red cousins, and it was currently occupied by the Queen herself, her legs closed together slightly, her hands on her knees, her dress was that golden in colour, it went to her ankles, and came down to elbow length, her shoes were slip on little black things. Her dress exposed her cleavage, same men found their eyes wondering when before the King.

The King himself had his golden crown perched upon his brown, greasy hair he had a green and white cloak, with a fur scarf around his neck, a golden necklace around his thick neck, his pants were a dark blue, and his shoes were laced, fine leather from the finest of cattle.

“Ah, Uncle, I see you’ve brought the bastard to the King’s Court.” This ‘humorous’ comment was met with the forced laughter of the Lords, but the Vanguard found it quite dry. Gregory believed that Roderick found his jokes funny, but in fact it annoyed him, some day he may come to regret such jokes.

Before Martin could retort, a messenger ran in, panting he held a letter, the wax seal broken, he pushed past Roderick and Martin, approaching the king he kneeled, his light armour tinkling slightly as his knee bent “My King, I have news…” The King sat down in a huff, folding his arms he was annoyed that a commoner would interrupt his stand-up. The Queen rolled her eyes, staying silent she internally thought of how her life would have been if she wasn’t forced to marry such a right royal twat.

“Our rakes in Equestria, they had been posing as traders from Dragon’s Bend word has been spreading of a human currently having residence with that Princess of the Equestrians, Celestia…” Anxiously the King sat forward in his chair, awaiting the rest of the panting scout’s message; this even piqued the interest of the quite distant Queen, breaking her from her daydream.

“Your father my Lord, Handan dwells with the Gods, the Equestrians.” The messenger whimpered out, followed by a gasp from every individual that heard the man’s words, except for Martin and Roderick, he simply passed a look of disbelief to each other, both being present at the battle those ten years ago.

The King slowly sat back in his chair, running a hand across his chin, rubbing the forming hair on his chin “A hostage?” He spoke, looking quite concerned “I regret to say, we have no clue of the current predicament, but no human would…” The king waved his hand, seemingly coming to a conclusion “My father would not be taken hostage by such a feeble people, he would have died. Even in his mad state he would not have submitted to those four legged fiends.” A slight murmur came from the lords. “Then again he is mad…” The King tried to keep his cool, but all this was a shock to him so it was quite visible, he shivered slightly.

His eyes drew up to Martin and Roderick, he then spoke “Bastard and dear Uncle, You were present at the battle of Rein’s Glade, you witnessed my father’s so called demise. What do you propose?” The two give each other another glance, Roderick spoke up in a loud voice, echoing to a degree throughout the extended hall “Your father was taken in the heat of Battle your highness, the only way to understand this story is if we asked him.” He spoke in a stern, serious tone, lacking humour but somehow it was received with laughter “Last time a human army entered the southern Kingdom Thirty Thousand men perished!” A call came from Lord Quinn of the Northern heights, his son John was the House’s banner man, and he lay amongst the dead of that day.

“Who proposed an army Lord Quinn? Who proposed any hostile action towards these people! We simply ask for his Majesty, and try to make sense of a-“ His sentence was cut short, the king butted in.

“Enough of this! Bastard, if you wish to return my father so much, then you go and get him; take five hundred men and go!”
He shouted, Roderick thought for a moment, about to speak before Martin interrupted “Nephew, I believe the Equestrians would object to five hundred humans, marching into their lands, I agree with Lord Quinn and Roderick, the idea of a company going into that land is absurd!” The king rolled his eyes, looking at his wife for a look of mutual agreement, but was met with her side as she turned away, looking down, her eyes fixed upon Roderick.

Roderick stood forward to speak, looking to the Queen for a moment who gave him a slight smile, slightly confused he refocused himself and projected his voice to the king “Martin and I shall go, we shall go to the Equestrians and reclaim your Father… or deal with him according to said circumstances.” His ‘court’ voice trailed off into a more concerned tone as he finished his sentence.

Gregory sat back in his throne, silence gripped the court as all this happened so fast “So be it, you shall be gone by first light, and you have until my birthday to return. If you have failed in your duty then expect a more hostile approach to those so called ‘Gods.’” Martin sighed, he had no desire to go, but he had nothing to stay for. Nodding to his Nephew he confirmed his commitment.

Without them asking, the king waved his hand, excusing the two, they left turned and left through the doors a few steps behind them, the whole meeting had only taken less than an hour to unfold, but it would cause many a sleepless night. Entering the courtyard from the Atrium, the sun had finally set, a groundskeeper, dressed in a beige overcoat began to bring out the lanterns from within the barracks.

The couple stood, their conversation started with a sigh from Martin “Stupid Idea, I vowed to myself never to return there.” Roderick laid a converting hand on his shoulder “Our King… Our true king depends on us, that little shit in there is going to make the same mistake as his father if we don’t get to him soon.” Roderick put his hand on his waist again, sighing. No amount of responsibility should be put on two individual’s shoulders, the fate of two generations, and two kingdoms.

Martin turned, going to his horse “We shall ride from here at dawn, for now I am off to say my goodbyes and have a nice cup of ale.” Roderick gave a faint laugh “Aye, I wish to keep a clear mind for the ‘morrow brother.” Martin smirked at his comment “I shall bunk in the barracks for this evening friend, till dawn.” He gave a wave to his mounted friend, who returned the gesture, trotting off on his horse to the drawbridge, which was soon pulled up after his departure. Chains rattling as it had so.

Only then had it hit him, He was to go back to the land in which he often thought of, he had mixed feelings of excitement and anticipation, and also that of dread. Roderick thought back to the events in the King’s Court, many things crossed his mind, but one that he often though about on the short walk to the barracks, was the Queen’s smile.