laneys.info Beware of Yankees, drunks, and loose women.

Jilahd strode into the gathering place flanked by Sigurd and followed by ten of his Royal Guard whose bald heads and bared shoulders sported red tattoos of solid color. Feared by all but the foolhardy, the berserkers ensured the king's reign was safe from outside intrigues with fierce brutality and swift justice.
He claimed his seat which consisted of a large stone strategically placed among nearly a hundred others, ensuring that all the nobles had an equal voice in the proceedings.

"Halvard should have been here," Sigurd mentioned as other dukes of De Haan passed by, bowing to their king before claiming their own seat.

"He's on his way back," Jilahd also missed his son who had been spending most of his life in the Unechan Steppes and gaining prestige not only among his own family and people, but also the horsemen to the far east. Letters had been speaking of trouble from their southern neighbor, the kingdom of Gyangzi. "With fighting going on there, we may yet have more opportunities for our own warriors."

"More have joined him than you know." As they spoke, he noticed King Harald enter the arena and nod respectfully to him as the western king and his own entourage claimed their seats. Once most were present, Jilahd noted the white haired oracles claim their own collection of seats to his far right. Hismena also joined them, resting atop her own and held the respect of nearly everyone here.

During the course of the day, many guilty of a multitude of crimes were stripped of their rank and either banished or were slated for execution that evening. Each man giving a vote irregardless of rank or title and sealing the fate of the accused noble in question.
As charges were brought, Jilahd's mind drifted to a time, many years ago when he ventured to these very ruins to claim a necklace which allowed him to marry Anna instead of a distant cousin. A proud day for him as he pushed his mount back home with the prize. His grin was interrupted as Sigurd nudged him, which prompted the distracted king to notice the wrestling matches going on in the center of the open air audience chamber. Cheers went up for the victor as another bare chested opponent quickly stepped up to see who would be the last one standing.
Soon, Jilahd noticed King Harald stand over his own tankard and he lowered it in surprise as the younger warrior removed his armor and shirt, then turned and strode towards the previous victor confidently. Each grabbed the other's belt and once the elder yelled, "Go," the two men struggled against each other. As both pushed with their legs and tried to unbalance the other, Harald soon twisted his body and threw the other man onto the ground, light brown hair swirling in a long mass until quickly settling into the tall grass.

Jilahd smirked. He handed Sigurd his tankard, "I'll be back for that, so don't drink it".

"Hopefully not too quickly."

Smiling, the older king doffed his cloak, armor and shirt, then turned and walked towards the current victor.

"You're my elder," Harald stated. "I would hate to embarrass you before your men."

A stinging rebuke, thought Jilahd. "Not to fear, I passed my test of manhood long before you left your mother's breast. It's you that should be nervous." Though he had to appear confident before everyone, Jilahd knew that the younger king's energy and strength would be a good contest as they both wrapped their arms around each other's waist and grabbed their opponent's belt. He had done this many times before and knew a few tricks of his own though and maneuvered his right foot a bit forward as they waited for the signal.

"Go!"

Immediately, Harald tried the same twisting motion with all his might and Jilahd used the momentum to sidestep, then pull on his opponent's waist, then twist around to the left himself. Unprepared for the move, Harald tried to mimic the move himself, but was too late as Jilahd swung the younger king around and pushed him to the ground with a thump. Cheers went up from his own camp as his eyes soon caught sight of a unique pendant around the king's neck that rested now atop his beard. He leaned over and reached for the necklace as Harald immediately spun around and pushed himself up.

"Well fought," Harald congratulated, embarrassed as his reddened face turned and he walked towards his men.

"I've seen that emblem before," Jilahd stated which prompted the king to turn, steel-blue eyes narrowed in confusion. "Where did you get it?"

"My wife." As Jilahd moved closer, he noted Hismena joined him. Her white oak staff, polished and beautifully carved in her hand. "Why do you ask?"

A hand reached for the necklace but, Harald immediately covered the silver pendant with his left hand. "You will not allow me to admire her affections for you, cousin?"

"Let me see it," the oracle stated as the elder reached out a hand, palm up.

"It's nothing. Just a simple figurine," Harald turned and began to walk closer to his men. Suddenly, his body straightened as Hismena's fingers motioned to the young king, then spun him around as his strong body was lifted a few inches off the ground and drifted towards her, then stopped.

"I said, let me see it," she replied in obvious irritation, then reached up and pulled the necklace from his thick beard. Jilahd stepped closer and noted the rising sun hovering over two scythes, handles end to end with the blades each arcing downward to form what looked like fangs. "Interesting."

"I've seen this emblem before," Jilahd stated as he tried to sift through memories. While they pondered, more elders and nobles approached the hovering subject whose eyes now went wide in fear.

Hismena's light blue eyes rose, "How long have you supported these witches and necromancers?" Words that would undoubtedly bring chaos to the kingdom of Chatelet if things weren't handled correctly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," his voice now quivering. The once proud king was doomed.