Tale of Four

’In the name of Brandon Cosamton, Prince of Veston, ex-Bookkeeper and Chancellor of the King’s council, I proclaim that the reign of King Anton ’Webweaver’, second of his name, son of Henry, sixth of his name, is an usurper, who coerced the good lords of Veston through fear, to steal a throne that passed from King Elias, third of his name.

In my name, I push my claim and proclaim myself the rightful king of Veston, legitimate heir to the throne and second eldest son of Henry, Sixth of his name. All who rally behind the false king will be traitors to the Throne and realm. I call upon the support of all the good lords of Veston to right this wrong.

King Brandon Cosmaton, first of my name, sovereign over the Great Lords, Protector of the People, Chosen of the Lord of Creation.’

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Lord Makepiece sat still for a moment, looking at the canvas he was painting, not turning to the servant who read the message. Paint fell from his brush, staining his trousers, and after nearly ten minutes of silence, he finally continued.

”Send word. Proclaim the new king. Raise the banners.” With that, he carried on painting a picture of a fruit bowl.

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Within the highest point of Epton, Lord Alkaris clenched his fist around the letter he had just received and grinned. Stepping forward, he approached an ancient horn made of ivory and pressed his lips against it, blowing as hard as he could. Across Epton, the horn calling for war sounded as the banner of Alkaris rose above the castle in the name of Anton.

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Staring at a pile of burning bodies, Lord Sunflare watched the smoke rise, flying out through the roof of the large dome, the burial of the sun complete, and lowered his head, his gaze on the floor.

”Proclaim Anton as rightful King.” With a quiet voice, he fell to his knees and clutched the necklace around his neck, muttering a prayer for the fallen.

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Hymns echoed throughout a large cathedral, the sound of a whip hitting flesh sounding above it. Sweat and blood littered the floor around Lord Elvissia as he stared at the icon of the Lord Creator, praying under his breath. Nothing existed in that moment until he finished. Pausing, he let the blood fall from his back and turned to the messenger.

”Investigate the Blackwell position on the matter.” The attendant nodded, and Lord Elvissia looked back at the statue, asking for forgiveness for the war to come and whipped himself.

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”Summon all the banners.” Lord Carter said, unable to suppress his joy as he stared at the kneeling messenger, nearly bouncing out of his chair in delight for his chance, ”Denounce Elias ’the kinslayer’ and his father. Spread the word, the desert marches for the rightful king.”

Around him, his courtiers all happily smiled, swept up by Lord Carter’s mood, the call for war spreading like wildfire throughout the city soon after.

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Lord Raven opened his eyes for a moment and looked into the distance, a frown finally showing an ounce of emotion on his face. His crimson iris caught the sun, making it glow for a moment before he shut his eyes once more, falling silent, sitting still beneath the tablet.

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”My beautiful girl.” Lady Blackwell held a twenty-year-old girl in her arms, bringing her into a deep embrace. Stroking her for the last time, she took a deep breath despite not being able to smell anything anymore, hoping she might be blessed to experience it one last time. ”You are no longer a princess, but a Blood Queen. Never forget our mission.”

Stepping back, she looked down at her daughter and stared into her white iris, thinly smiling, ”I must rest now.” Looking behind her daughter, whose lips shook, unable to speak, she saw three old men sitting with crossed legs, nodding in approval, ”To the earth we return.”

”Their nourishment we become.” The three men repeated the words back to Lady Blackwell as she nodded, entering a side room never to leave. One of the three men stood up and walked towards the young black-haired queen and knelt before her, holding up a crown made of red metal.

”Your orders, Your Grace.” The new Lady Blackwell blankly stared ahead for a moment before taking a deep breath and picking up the crown. Placing it atop her head, she nodded.

”Summon the banners. Prepare for the final phase.” Looking up, she seemed to see past the ceiling and into the sky, ”The Cosmatons shall not survive.” The man knelt deeper as the two others got up and followed suit.

”Hail, Queen Viridia. First of her name, Queen of Blood.”

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”Sandra. What is it?” Lord Clover looked at his sister as she cradled one of her many children, giving the boy a sad smile.

”I got word. Who are you rallying behind?” Hector frowned and walked, looking at his nephew, sighing.

”If you wish to ask me to support Brandon becuase of your relationship with Cillian, it won’t happen, Sandra.” Hector paused, turning his back on Sandra, staring at the Clover banner hanging on the wall. His eyes glowed with a shrewd light. ”What is our family’s motto?”

”Harvest always comes,” Sandra said, the words without looking away from the boy.

”We must sow the seeds and wait, carefully nurturing them, never rushing. Diplomacy and war are the same. We strike when it is time.” Turning around, he placed a firm hand on her shoulder and lovingly squeezed, ”I understand your grief, but I can’t indulge you this one time, sister. I am not only your brother, but the lord of the Flatlands. I must think about them first in these matters.” Feeling her body shake under him, he frowned. ”What is it?”

”George.” Looking up at Hector for the first time, she let him see the boy, ”He’s Cillian’s.”

”What?” Hector shot up and stared at his sister, wondering if it was a sick joke. Seeing she was serious, he took a deep breath and looked down at George. He had Clover features, his hair a mixture of the Clover green and normal brown, with small, thin streaks of gold. Looking at the young child, his heart stopped as the boy opened his eyes, showing a green left eye and a black right eye.

”How... when...” Collapsing, he grabbed his head and sighed, ”Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice wasn’t angry but disappointed, not directed at his sister, but at himself, having not noticed his nephews’ features that screamed of Cosmaton blood, especially Cillian’s. She had many partners, but after being told it was so clear.

”I don’t know. Our relationship was sporadic, but I think it was around the first time.” Sandra said, stroking her son’s hair.

”Does anyone know?” Hector asked with a serious tone. Shaking her head, Sandra smiled.

”Cillian said he would marry me to take responsibility, but I declined. I knew it would burden him, and he knew it would mean I would have to stop how I live my life. Being your sister and sleeping with men is one thing, after all, you have no care for what people say, but the wife of a prince’s son, no less, Brandon’s, is a scandal, and that snake is not a man I wish to have turn to our family.”

”Answer the question,” Hector said, staring into her eyes.

”No. I kept it private, as did Cillian. Some of my maids and a few of my friends have an idea, but no one can prove it.” Hector gulped and looked down at the young child, nearly a year old.

”Brandon. Does he have a clue?” Before she could speak, he grabbed her hand. ”Secrets in Veston, don’t stay hidden from him for long, Sandra. Is there any chance he may know?”

”Maybe, I don’t know. He has never said or hinted at knowing, and Cillian never said anything either.” Hector groaned and ran his hands over his face, clicking his tongue afterwards.

”Keep this quiet. I need to think.” Suppressing a curse, he stood up and looked at the two, ”I will warn you now, I won’t say I support Brandon definitely, but.” Looking at the babe, he smiled, ”I will protect him, no matter what Anton says, even if it means war.”