A Potential Rebellion

Hours went by as you listened to the needs of the various nobles and courtiers, presided over disputes of land and coin, nodded along with a bland smile as you heard pledge after pledge of loyalty and commitment from fat lordlings and wayward knights looking for employment.

The sun shifted across the sky and slowly but surely you whittled your way through the multitude of voices crying out to be heard. Your guards ushered forth another petitioner and you decided he would be the last of the day.

The man was looked enough to be a grandfather, with skin liked tanned leather and a white beard that practically obstructed his mouth. He seemed weary, worn down by a life of trouble and anxiety. His eyes lifted slowly to regard you, and were filled with defeat.

"Your Majesty," he began, voice like a harsh whisper, " I've come a long way," he paused, clutched his chest before taking another breath, "we need your help sire. Back in my village we..." he clutched his chest again, cringing in pain, "we need..."

"Take your time," you assure him, "where do you come from?"

The man took a breath and slowly regained a little composure, straightening up ."Your Majesty, I am from... a small village in ...Sharltonia."

Sharltonia rang a distant bell. Geographically speaking it was the island furthest from your family's seat and historically the home to one house of nobles who challenged your bloodline for control of the isles. The original Count Sharlton was a man who arrived at the Islands with your mad ancestor and made a play for the throne, only to be defeated and maimed with the loss of both hands. He fled to the island furthest away from the others and the Sharlton line have lingered there for hundreds of years, the most bellicose and **** of subjects. They even tried to raise a rebellion during your great-grandfather's time, with the conflict raging until finally being settled by a duel between the King and the Count which ended with the rebel cut down, and his children held as hostages, effectively blunting the Sharlton ferocity.

"The Countess has put us to work sire," the man went on, stoping and starting as his breath came and went, "she has the young men digging out the side of a mountain in a mine...while the rest of us do forge work building great weapons, siege engines," his face crumpled and tears leaked out the corner of his eyes, "We can't keep up like this, people are being worked into their graves...you've got to help us...make the Countess see sense!"

You shifted uncomfortably on your throne. Countess Yoranna Sharlton was the most recent, and presumably, last of her line. In her youth she had been betrothed to your father as a means of ending the feud between the great houses. Alas, your father broke ranks and married a mainlander, your mother. You weren't privy to all the details, but from what you could gather the tensions were so high that it was almost another rebellion until the great plague struck the isles. The Countess was the last of her family and remained a recluse during the entirety of your father's reign.

"I will look into this matter," you say, masking your unease. "We'll see about the meaning of all this."

The man smiled weakly and you had the guards give him a few coins and direct him to the nearest tavern. Only once court had officially come to an end and the throne room emptied of everyone but your guards and closest advisors did you allow your discomfort to surface.

"What is that woman up to?" You asked no one and everyone. "My first day as king and already the Sharltons spring up to cause trouble."

Einon clicked his tongue, crossed his arms. "She was a pain in the arse twenty years ago and she's a pain in the arse now. I'm not one for senseless bloodshed, but I think the crown has been more than fair with that wretched family."

"I still remember the last time I saw her," Lord Amadis said, his eyes distant and voice surprisingly soft. "The plague had cut through that place worse than anywhere else in the isles and she had just buried her whole family. Poor thing was still half a child..."

"Don't tell me you've discovered a heart old man?" Einon sniggered, before turning back to you. "Don't listen to him. Your father went through an endless amount of grief because of that woman, the plague coming through when it did probably saved us all years of civil war."

You rubbed your temples feeling a migraine coming on. "That doesn't exactly help us with the here and now," you turned to the rest of council. "What do you make of this? What's the old spinster up to?"

The Lord Admiral's face, already wrinkled and scarred from a lifetime of conflict, seemed to harden into petrified wood. "Their population has recovered since the plague and many a hardened warrior came from Sharltonia. They have timber for ships, iron for swords and whatever else she's digging out of that mountain of hers. If she's gearing up for a war...we need to take it seriously.

"The Sharlton lands have always been prosperous," Myerling added, "she could easily afford to finance such a thing."

Einon gave you a look. "Everyone in the Isles knows what those people are like. We've all had to suffer through their ambitions. They've always been a family of traitors and rebels....just give me the word and I can arrange it so that the Countess dies in her sleep."

The threat of civil war certainly made **** a tempting choice, but there was something nagging in the back of your mind. For whatever reason you couldn't fully bring yourself around to the idea of ending one of the major houses in the Crimson Isles.

Seeing your conflict, Lord Amadis took a tentative step forward. "Your Majesty...forgive me but, I was there when your grandfather arranged the betrothal between your father and this woman. I remember them both playing as children...things are not as simple as you might think. I must urge you to show some restraint, investigate this matter properly before acting rash."

You couldn't imagine your father as a child, let alone someone prone to playing, but you found yourself agreeing with the old man.

"I can't ignore the fact that she is terrorising her own people and potentially planning to attack the throne," you let out a sigh, feeling the tension in your neck and shoulders, "but...I'm not going to treat this woman as a traitor until I can verify it."

"And how do you expect to do that?" Einon raised a skeptical eyebrow. "The woman is paranoid and has a tendency to hang any of our spies that she can find."

You gave the court mage a boyish grin. "I'll pay her a visit and ask the Countess face to face."