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.
Of Pride and Power - 34. Interlude The Height of Treachery
God as my witness, I am doing the correct thing. I deserve far better than what the unholy scion of King Henry had dealt me. The former King Henry and his son, King Edward through both regents Seymore and Dudley, gave me titles and rich lands. The former Queen Mary made me a supreme commander of her forces in Ireland with over a hundred thousand Irish slaves at the height of my abilities. In exchange, I was the kingdom’s greatest sword, eliminating all their enemies. Then came the abomination, Elias Tudor, who was neither King nor Queen since God had no names for creatures like this being. Elias Tudor won the kingdom with barely any English support. No, the cur won through an alliance with perverse pagans, Welsh dogs, Cornish fops, and worst of all Scottish rebels. Elias Tudor became England’s master with the self-title of “Aelfric”, an undignified title from a barbaric age. Though I bent the knee out of respect for power, I held no respect for the one wielding it, who could not even be called human.
Unlike other noble lords, such as my old colleague William Paulet, who was enamored by the upstart’s reforms, I was never truly swayed. Queen Mary’s words were correct in this regard, despite her affiliation with the Habsburg and Catholic rulers of the continent. England should belong to the English, specifically the nobility who forged this nation. Her faith aside, she understood the virtue of an English noble rightful place.
We had overwhelmed the Cornish in the southwest through centuries of campaign, but we had not broken their resistance. In compromise to the growing pest of marauders, the Lancastrian kings coddled them by letting them speak their savage tongue and keep their disgusting customs. We had brought the Welsh to their knees under the Yorkist kings, but King Henry’s Act of Tolerance allowed them to become nobles of equal rank and take positions held for centuries by the great houses of England. As for the Scots, nothing more needs to be said about rebels, but Elias Tudor offered these usurpers recognition and an alliance. After the death of their Queen, these vile commoners and their heretical leader, John Knox, imprisoned their liege Mary Stuart, and her son, James, and then elevated a council led by the heretics. Elias Tudor claims this change was peaceful and offered a far fairer kingdom ruled by reason rather than tradition. However, it was not the Scots who were paying for this new government, their roads, foundries, or the dockyards being built around Scapa Flow. Just as the mines, farms, factories, and cities of Wales and Cornwall were not being built or enriching local English lords. English taxes and English blood were actively being shipped from London and the populous southeast to all these foreigners for that purpose, despite the efforts of Parliament to curtail Elias Tudor’s excessive waste.
Even developments in proper English domains, to build up cities on lands formerly held by nobles or promised to their knight retainers, Elias Tudor would appoint common scholars with no drop of noble blood to seize without caring about the blood used to earn these lands. Upon receiving the land, these scholars bleed our nation of its timber, grassland, and metals for machines that do things our servants were born to do as God had intended them.
We as nobles are meant to rule over lesser beings as they are the lambs of god, a flock made to serve. If God deemed them worthy, then he would bestow them the ability to be noticed by a lord and elevated to the peerage. However, a machine is not a man, nor are their creators worthy of notice for positions greater than an earl or baron.
Furthermore, Elias Tudor sought to create life through an unholy mechanism derived from the pagans that had allied with these non-English forces. They are not merely stealing our lands or destroying our traditional roles, they are violating our English blood by introducing the so-called “Omegas” into our kingdom. Males were never meant to have the ability to bear children, God did not grant such a mechanism to Adam for a reason. The Church of England has already ruled such things to be supremely heretical and has vowed to excommunicate any males who would undergo the procedure to become Omegas. Yet, Elias Tudor, being an abomination and template for the Omegas, has created a new sect of believers called the Veritas, who champion conversion. From the words being spread by the Church’s Vicars, many young virile boys are being tricked into these procedures, where they are being tortured and ripped apart in a foreign land by these people.
A thousand years of English history was under attack, but no one in England had the power to stop Elias Tudor. Luckily, I met someone who shared our perspective and ideals with power beyond England, matching that of the Habsburg-Roman alliance.
In September of 1566, after my disastrous negotiation and destitution at the hands of Elias Tudor, I was engaged in a lucrative trade deal away from England to claim a potential fortune. In Danish Copenhagen, I met Dmitry Ivanovich, son of Tsar Ivan Vasilyevich. At first, I did not recognize his noble lineage as the Russian surname did not follow the tradition of honoring a house name, instead honoring the child’s father. Through my Danish translator and liberal libations provided by this prince, we struck up many commonalities that I never thought possible with a foreigner. He was a real man, despite being only 19 years old. When negotiating deals, he was adorned with gold rings, jewel necklaces, and platinum bracelets to show his success and wealth. At hunting grounds, he struck the pose of an imposing general with leather armor and a great sword, unlike the soldiers of my nation with their short daggers called “bayonets” attached to rifled firearms. Dmitry had fought and subjugated the Tatars of the Steppes numbering a hundred thousand with a single shadow legion of 1,000 men. Dmitry was the ideal nobleman that Englishmen should aspire towards.
We spoke at length about the situation in England and the pain felt by many Protestant nobles, who hated our heretical ruler but did not wish to return to foreign rule by a Catholic monarch. He offered me a sympathetic ear and many lucrative business contracts that allowed me exclusive rights to import Russian refined ore for a tidy profit in England. At first, the Russian prince asked that I keep our business dealings secret, only referring to his Danish intermediaries with my friends and allies. In six months, we began to exchange more than mere ore as Dmitry offered me repeating rifles, artillery, and ammunition that more than matched any produced by England or the Habsburg Empire. In return, I gave him information about the development within England, including the movement of the Royal Marine and Royal Navy. As time wore on, Russian agents were brought into my lands in Sussex and we plotted with like-minded English nobles.
Over the next two years, our relationship deepened and the plan for something greater emerged to end the reign of Elias Tudor. My group included the likes of Sir Arthur Pole, nephew of Reginald Pole, who was the current head of the Pole family and a scion of the Yorkist line. The 38-year-old nobleman would become a legendary king to match his namesake if all went well.
In exchange for their aid in removing Elias Tudor, Dmitry, and the Russian Empire wanted glowing blue spheres called “cores”, which I had seen in the factory complexes throughout Wales, the Midlands, and Western England. They were tools that could animate machines, which would not be of any use to England under a proper noble king, so I accepted the offer.
We planned to make our move on June 19th, 1569, at the birthday party of Elias Tudor’s youngest child, Jamie Tudor. The Catholic faction had revolted recently under the Percy family of Northumberland, most of the court and Parliament was busily preparing for a campaign against the rebels. We used this issue as a pretense to make our move as no one would expect an attack on London when the focus was directed to the north. Through my old friend, William Paulet’s effort, I was made the commander of the northern expeditionary force against the Catholic uprising. The old fool thought he was helping me win favor by presenting me to Elias Tudor as an able military commander, but I had no intention of marching north with the assembled noble army.
With my aid, Dmitry had moved ten shadow legions from the Russian Empire into England. We would first strike London and remove Elias Tudor and all potential threats. Then, we would wipe out the various loyalists within the city as they would no longer have a unified leadership and they could not counter forces already embedded within. Since the shadow legion could become invisible to sight and sound, it was the perfect hunting unit against loyalists in London. When used like this, the skill matches the destructive power of the Habsburg Sky Fortress and the Royal Navy’s Dreadnaught. Finally, upon the conclusion of the struggle within London, since the Catholic uprising occurred, the Habsburg empire would be blamed for the attack and casualties by the new King Arthur Pole.
Later after we secured our rule over England, the remnants of Elias Tudor’s famed Royal Marines and Royal Navy would be reformed one unit and ship at a time to suit our needs.
For success, we needed the ten shadow legions throughout London’s strategic points such as the royal palace at Whitehall, Parliament’s meeting space at Westminster, the Port of London terminal, and all the city gates. These troops would prevent Elias Tudor, his family, and their retainers’ from escaping. Additionally, Dmitry feared the Royal Navy might intervene prematurely as London has had several lightly armed naval merchant ships in port at various times for repairs. He prepared a fleet of invisible warships to destroy any merchant ships in port and provide coastal bombardment if needed. My troops were ostensibly being gathered outside London awaiting my arrival with the royal authority from Elias Tudor and the Parliament. Their captains were made aware of the secret plan to enter London after the confirmed death of Elias Tudor and the royal allies.
The morning leading up to the planned attack was uneventful as I sat awaiting word from Parliament for my formal confirmation as a military commander. Then around noon, several odd reports came to my attention. Prince Henry Tudor, the presumed heir, had gone missing from Whitehall Palace according to royal servants, who were children not in line of succession from noble families. According to reports from royal guards, no one had seen where he went, but they discovered a missing rowboat. While the shadow legions were equipped with communication equipment, they were under strict orders not to use them until after the attack began. Thus, I was receiving delayed messages throughout the day as I searched for the crown prince. If Henry Tudor survived this conspiracy, he would become a rallying figure for Elias Tudor’s forces and his intelligence is well-known in the kingdom. It would not be a stretch for him to discover the flaws within our story, which would only be shielded with the ascension of Arthur Pole. We had to find the boy and eliminate him before the plan. As a result, our original plan had to be changed with this variance.
Several hours passed as my men scoured London to find the young prince. I had hoped to surprise and kill him, but it was the prince, who surprised me with his audacious radio address.
Upon hearing his voice, Dmitry calibrated his radio transmitter and spoke in Russian, which I inferred later to mean “Stop the broadcast”. However, the damage was done as the element of surprise has been lost and the powerful radio message had been sent throughout London and perhaps even further out. The invisible Russian warships that struck the white tower had revealed themselves and radio messages from Whitehall palace indicated the Royal Guard were now engaged in fierce fighting with the shadow legion and our forces at the boat house. Francis Walsingham, Matsudaira Takechiyo, and William Tudor would have to be killed first, while Elias Tudor and Jamie Tudor need to be dealt with at Parliament. Arch-Duke Robert Dudley could be executed by coastal bombardment.
I asked my translator to tell Dmitry, “I need some of your men to kill Elias Tudor, now.”
Dmitry nodded, and then I gathered a group of my guards to join me. Dmitry joined me as well. I had not expected many events in such a short period. The sound of gunfire and artillery shells could be heard on the streets of London, Whitehall was in flames along with the port terminals. I hoped that these signs meant the targets were eliminated at Whitehall and Arch-Duke Robert Dudley was also dispatched at the port, making my job far easier. However, the crowds in London upon hearing of the current conflict were riotous and disturbed, creating a major barrier to transit. As we no longer needed to consider secrecy, the shadow legion began massacring the commoners on the London streets to clear a path for us. This process slowed us down considerably, a trip that should take fifteen minutes by horse was taking double that time.
As we approached the entrance to Westminster Palace, we were greeted by a six-foot-tall blood-red metallic figure, wielding a sword. It eyed our approach and made movements to intercept us.
Dmitry was shocked at the sight of the creature, screaming at me in broken English, “Mecha…You never said…Gav no!”
I had no understanding of why the sight of this creature caused fear since we held the advantage in numbers and arms.
The metallic creature stopped its approach and asked a question in a cold mechanical voice, “Who is Thomas Radclyffe?”
1. Scappa Flow was the headquarters of the UK Fleet during WWI and WWII, it was located in Scotland
2. Russian noble surnames are interesting in the 16th century, their conventions are not based on family names per se. Paternalistic structure based on father. It's like calling someone Williamson (literally william's son) in terms of english equivalence.
3. Gav no != "Shit!"
Mechas are unexpected and quite dangerous for various reasons.
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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.
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