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    Mawgrim
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

A Declaration of War - 1. Chapter 1

Queen Hildeth held herself as proudly as always, standing at the window. From the highest turret of the castle, Adalbert knew what she would see; the town below, strangely silent, as if all within held their breath. Peasants still toiled in the fields beyond, planting the spring crops, but for how long?

‘What should I do?’ he asked. His father, Lothar would have known, but he was dead, slain a month previously in a cruel ambush. Now he was King. At only twenty-two, he didn’t feel as if he had the experience for the role, but there wasn’t a choice.

Hildeth turned away from the cold view. In the fireplace, logs crackled and flames danced. Her skirts swished over the stone floor as she made her way toward its warmth. She held out her hands, rubbing graceful fingers together. ‘Let him in. Messengers are protected under tradition.’

Adalbert was cold, too and not just from the chill of the abandoned castle. He’d not wanted to be left behind when his father rode out to take care of what had been thought to be yet another border skirmish, but Lothar had persuaded him he would be better occupied at home. ‘Good training for you, my boy,’ he’d said in that booming voice. ‘In any case, we’ll return as soon as we’ve pushed back that tyrant Eochu. Even his own people flee his lands.’

For the past few years, they had taken in all who crossed the border: starving, frightened people who told stories of oppression and cruelty. It had stretched the resources of their small kingdom, but Lothar would have it no other way.

Pushing aside thoughts of an age never to be recovered, Adalbert turned to his chamberlain. ‘Bring the man to us,’ he said firmly. He picked up a cup of wine from the table and drank. The essence of summer fruits filled his mouth and warmed him slightly. A good vintage, it had been, three years past. ‘We will not return any of the people who have sought protection within our borders,’ he said firmly to the Queen. ‘My father promised them safety and I will not renege on those bonds.’

Hildeth nodded. ‘He would be proud of you.’

‘I hope so.’ Adalbert took another sip of the wine and readied himself.

Footsteps echoed along the corridor; the shuffling tread of old Burchard and the ringing clash of the messenger’s heavy boots. Both entered the room. Adalbert looked over the man. He had the build of a soldier. Even his clothes reinforced that impression; breeches shiny at the knees from time spent in the saddle, a plain shirt and sleeveless jerkin over it. His weapons had been removed for the audience, but there was no doubt this was one of Eochu’s warriors.

The man bowed in cursory fashion, merely inclining his head and even that to Queen Hildred rather than Adalbert. He heard his mother’s quick indrawing of breath at the insult, but decided to ignore it. It was what he expected. The Fiachi knew nothing of honour. ‘Why are you here?’ he asked sharply.

‘To bring you this.’ The man held out a sealed letter. Adalbert waited for Burchard to bring it to him. At least he knew how to behave, unlike those barbarians.

He broke the seal and unrolled the thick paper, scanning the lines quickly. ‘A declaration of war? What can your lord want with my ravaged kingdom?’

The messenger looked at him. Flames reflected in his eyes. ‘He wants his son back.’ He held up one finger. ‘He wants your head on a pole.’ Another finger. ‘And he wants the lands south of the River Slean.’

The most fertile lands, naturally. Since Eochu rose to power, he had annexed many of the surrounding kingdoms, nibbling away at them piece by piece. Not that they ever prospered. He took a few moments to consider the demands, also aware that by not speaking straight away, the tension in the room grew. Did they expect him to just give in? ‘I have no wish to cause my people any further hardship.’ Would this man understand the implication that his own ruler was all too ready to maltreat his own subjects to gain his ends? Probably not. ‘In reply, I should say that firstly, his son arrived here of his own free will and being of the age of majority has every right to stay if he chooses. Secondly, I am quite happy with my head exactly where it is now. And thirdly, your lord is a greedy man. He has already annexed two other independent kingdoms and he will not have a single part of this one.’ Adalbert was aware of his mother standing in the background, a silent tower of strength. He continued in the same level tone. ‘But perhaps Eochu can be reasonable? Rather than unleashing bloodshed and slaughter I would be willing to take him on in single combat…

As he’d spoken, he’d been aware of the messenger’s face reddening, his expression becoming more thunderous. Now, he exploded.

‘Why should my lord deign to fight you with honour? You are an unnatural abomination. Your lands harbour all kinds of ungodly folk like yourself. You have seduced and corrupted Lord Eochu’s son. You deserve to die as your father did, screaming for mercy.’

Adalbert saw Hildreth’s hands clench, but other than that, she made no move.

‘The declaration of war stands,’ the man spat. ‘Prepare to be annihilated.’

Some Kings - and most probably the man’s own Lord - might have taken those threats badly and to the detriment of the messenger. But despite his own feelings, Adalbert knew how he should behave.

‘Burchard. Please ensure this man is given food and drink, then released to return with our reply. If war is what Eochu wants, war it shall be. And he should not expect an easy victory.’

Burchard inclined his head, then opened the heavy, studded door, ushering the man from the room. The sudden draught made the fire burn brighter, sparks flying up the chimney.

Hildreth gave what might have been a small sob. Adalbert couldn’t bear to see her like that. They were alone, so he went to her and offered the comfort of his arms.The light, floral scent she always wore filled his nostrils, reminding him of past times when he was a boy and she’d wheel him around the great hall, teaching him to dance. ‘Pay no attention to that man’s words. They were designed to provoke.’

‘I wish I could be sure of that.’ She took a deep breath, reasserting her usual control and stepping back. ‘What will you do now?’

‘Raise an army. Prepare for war.’

‘There may be room for negotiation…’

‘No!’ He banged his fist on the table. One of the cups toppled, sending liquid coursing over its scarred surface, winding as the river Slean, bright as blood. ‘Do you think Eochu would stop at that? He didn’t when he took Maeldon or Givernand. Someone has to make a stand. And I will do that, with his son Conor at my side.’

Hildreth gave a small smile. ‘Lothar raised you well. I didn’t think this day would come so soon, but you are as worthy a King as he ever was.’

‘His death will be avenged.’ Adalbert felt responsibility settle on his shoulders, heavy as the armour he would soon be wearing. ‘You have my word on that.’

Copyright © 2022 Mawgrim; All Rights Reserved.
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Thanks for reading. This is not a genre I ever expected to write!
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Story Discussion Topic

It is with great sadness I must announce the death of Mawgrim, Promising Author on GA. He had been in declining health for some time and passed away on Christmas Day. Mawgrim worked for decades as a cinema projectionist before his retirement and was able to use this breadth of knowledge to his stories set in cinemas. He also gave us stories with his take on the World of Pern with its dragon riders. He will be greatly missed and our condolences go out to his friends, family, and his husband.
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