Umbra 13, 228: The Will of the King

Tyrel and Callem meet to discuss the war and the will of the king.


The Will of the King
Summary: Tyrel and Callem meet to discuss the war and the will of the king.
OOC Date: October 13, 2013
Related: None
Players:
Callem Tyrel 
King's Study
The room is nicely appointed but austere. Floor to ceiling bookcases dominate the walls, the many-colored spines presenting a varied but demure mosaic within the walnut frames of the shelves. On one wall, a large stone hearth presents itself, the fire always tended to drive off the chill of interior castle rooms. Above the fireplace one may view a portrait of Callem Kilgour's children.
At one end the room is a heavy oak desk, always strewn with bits of writing in progress and stacked with books. Comfortable chairs are placed almost randomly around the room, each with its own table and lamp. In one corner is a rather long, comfortable couch, upholstered in azure fabric, with a blanket of llama wool thrown over the back and several comfortable pillows at one end. From the indentations in the couch, it is clear that someone naps here frequently.
Umbra 13, 228

The King's brow rises a bit at the knocking on the door, just to fall and melt into a wide smile as the Crown Prince enters the room. The blade is put aside, leaving his hands free and letting him stand with comfort.

"My son." he greets with eyes that burn in black fire of happiness and glad surprise. "How are you? Please, come in and take seat." a golden ring shines as his hand gestures toward an empty chair by his right. His voice raises once more, but only after Tyrel has already accepted, or declined, his offer. "What news do you bring? How did you find my brother, Isaac? How has Darfield be with you since your return?"

Callem listens attentively, regaining his usual seriousness as the time goes by, but the glimpse of joy for his heir's arrival is evident at every moment.

"And," he continues with a narrowed and inquisitive gaze, "What news have you heard since then?"

Tyrel takes the seat but only after clasping his father's shoulder for a moment, "Isaac was as I remember him always being, and Mykhal was well settled there when I left. On the journey home all seemed as well as could be expected until the last two days when news of Sutherland reached us. Since then I have been working to refresh what information I know. I've a letter from Issac containing matters of a serious nature that he asked me not to open, and another that he insists you not open when mother is present, I suspect that is of a less serious nature." He smiles for a moment then his look shifts to something more serious and intent, "As for what news I've heard, a great deal but not all of it makes sense. What news should I have heard?"

"And do you have that letters with you?" Callem asks calmly, but his expectation and concern may be betrayed by his raging eyes. "The news from Sutherland have reached us as well, and have been welcomed in grief. Your sister…" his words break for a moment, and for Tyrel it is possibly clear that his last words were not about his natural siblings, but about Terrwyn and the fate she suffered. But his next sentences drift from the topic, leaving just a brief explanation in the air. "No death of a good man or woman in our Kingdom, and our family, will ever be forgotten. Tears and songs will come for them, but the time for such honor must be preceded by our victory in battle. As you know it well, Lord Marshal." the thunderous, usual, tone of the eldest Kilgour is touched with unconfined pride.

"You should have heard everything. It is you who must ponder how much of it makes—" his head tilts a bit, "Sense," the word comes with an unnatural accentuation, "And how much of it doesn't. I am ready to return to the throne and lead our realm to the glory we deserve, but you, being my right hand, must tell me first of all these you have heard so far."

Tyrel withdraws the two letters and hands them over, "I have them." He then says, "They will never be forgotten, but we will also not be goaded like a bull or flushed like a grouse. Of the news I have heard that is reliable…" he goes on to recount troop movements and other information that are his duties as a marshal as the those wind to a close he says, "Those things that make less sense center more around rumors that I have heard regarding plans for the future. Logen has hinted that you may have plans to see him seated at the highest level when Laniver falls, this seems…ambitious of him and impolitic of you, Roslin seems to have some grand scheme in mind but she has always had remarkable energy, I've not heard word yet on efforts to secure naval forces, though I have yet to meet with Caedmon to hear his briefing."

"I must admit that is something I had not heard until now." the King frowns visibly, shaking his head and taking a deep breath. The raging light in his gaze turns colder, and the harsh voice that has sent many men to fight, die and burn cities to ashes appears to make all he due clarifications.

"The last time we spoke, Logen and I, it was for a /slightly/ different matter. I just wanted to know if he considered he could handle his position as a Prince. Because, in my perspective, his continuous offenses and the shame he brought to our family were indicators of the contrary. I even thought he was actively trying to get rid of his family name, and that is something I was willing to concede him." Callem lets that sink in, looking at the window as he continues. "He asked me to let him retain his title, and was willing to show his worth. I made him clear that being a Prince is a great honor, but even more, a great responsibility. And, if something happens to you, he should sit in a throne in your place, and he would have to stop acting as a spoiled child to become the regent the realm needs. That is, of course, only if such tragic time comes. And be sure that is the least I can wish. Be sure my prayers have your name in them, for Mobrin and Laniveer need a righteous and strong King as you will be."

A heartbeat or two after, he returns his eyes to meet those of the Crown Prince.

"You are my heir. You must lead our army, bring us victory, and live. That I order you as father and head of the Kingdom. And, about Roslin, I am well aware of her thoughts. She is smart and her wit is comparable only to her ability in scheming." a light grin is left out. "If anything happens to me, and even before that, I advise you to listen to her. Our family must stay together, but mainly, strong. And that is something she knows well."

Tyrel considers this then nods slowly, "I did not think it something you would have said directly but Logen's mind finds creative ways to understand what it observes. It makes him brilliantly unpredictable upon the field of battle, but unpredictability is not always desirable." He salutes as the order is given, "As you command, father, we will have victory and I will return with such spoils as victory bring to see if My Princess and I will ever match you and mother in courtly grace and dance." He smiles then as Roslin is discussed, "I will be to avail myself of her wit, and that of my wife as well. One of the realizations that came upon me as I traveled, I have not been utilizing all the the advantages available to me."

A smile escapes Callem as he nods at his son's words. "Though I have not yet had the privilege of having a long talk with Princess Ciarrah, I have no doubt her father has risen her to be a good woman and regent. You will always do good in trusting an Aberdeen, my son. And thank you for such kind words about your mother and myself. I only hope to make them justice." his hand extends to hold once more the weapon he had in the first place.

"A King must be surrounded by only the brightest minds and the bravest soldiers. I see you have done it so far, and I trust you will always do. And, just one more thing. Do you have in your plans to go to the battlefield soon?" the question doesn't wait for an answer, but is finished with a sharp smile. "If you do, I want you to have this in your next battle. The sword of the Kings, passed from generation to generation from a Kilgour to the next. It is still not yours, of course," he grins again, "But I want you to do something."

"It is said that not only Kings have wielded it, but Kings have died by it. This blade has tasted the blood of heroes and legends - for many legends and songs have been sung about it. Now make me proud, and carry it with you. Bring death and return with a new song. Return being the hero you are. I don't want to leave this world without chanting the deeds of my son."

Tyrel bows his head, "I will take the blade, father, and bear it proudly. I will give you every opportunity to chant deeds of my accomplishment, and if the light blesses you and I will chant together the deeds of your grandson." He looks up, "As for when battle will be next met, we have taken near as much as we can hold through the winter, and if those that bloodied us do not show face it may be spring before we can take the field in earnest again."

Callem stands up. At the entrance, two Knights of Rioga in black armor get ready and in martial posture. "I am sure you will, Tyrel." he says with a smile and a nod of his head. "We will talk about it soon. Get ready. And send my best regards to your wife. I will pray to the Gods of Light for your child and, if you need me, I will be in the throne room." a couple of steps are walked before he returns briefly to the Prince. "I am glad to see you again. Thank you for everything."

Tyrel bows his head, "I am glad to see you too, father." He rises and prepares to depart as well.

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