Princil's Magic Ch. 12 Weakness

Ch.12 : Guthelm's Weakness

King Charlerion of Pelancir sought audience with his ally King Guthelm of Grumandria. He crossed the central bridge to the west bank of Cromilil, the old centre of the city, now looking less impressive than the east bank where the Pelancirians had been repairing buildings and making the place look as if it was a proud colonial capital. The west bank was still full of burned out and pillaged buildings, emptied of many of its citizens, except the ghostlike enslaved and tortured captives who pretended to work hard in order to avoid the punishments of the cruel Grumandrian soldiers. The King still held court in the old Council Hall, decorated with the heads of vanquished Shalirionites and the bodies of recently tortured prisoners who had been used as sport by the King and his bloodthirsty court, still suspended in cages above the hall. Charlerion shuddered inwardly in distaste. Why would a conquering King not surround himself with the beautiful things of life, artistic collections and wealth, instead of the unpleasantness of warfare and subjugation? Guthelm seemed to have no appreciation of the finer things of life. Brutality and fear were all he seemed to want. They had been here in Shalirion for months now and conquered many regions, but he still chose to live like this in the base they had chosen.

"Come Charlerion," beckoned the bloated King, "sit next to me, and say what you will. It is some time since we met last at the siege of Vedalis." The city had surrendered after the blockade began to starve the city, when the food supplies within were poisoned and despoiled by the magic of Black Sorcerors. The additional threat of cruel assaults upon the walls by superior numbers had led to surrender. As you insisted we upheld our bargain, enslaving the population, but avoiding slaughter because they had surrendered. You took your share of the lands."

"Indeed Guthelm you fulfilled our agreement in Vedalis," agreed Charlerion. "I have heard recently of your attacks upon Bricas. Your sorcerors caused much terror and bloodloss there, but there was no plan to take the city. Your nearest armies were hundreds of miles away. Why did you expend such effort for such little gain?"

Shalirion will crumble because they fear us," explained King Guthelm. "They are already crumbling."

"It is not so Guthelm. We have indeed taken much territory, but you have been utterly defeated in your attempts to take the Cromil valley hinterland. As I have heard it you were lucky to receive any of your army back from that failed occupation. The Shalirionites are employing their own wizards very effectively. Their people retreated before you into the forests where you could not conquer them."

"A setback it has been, but we have taken cities and coastal lands and made ourselves rich with produce," explained Guthelm irritably.

'You did not give the people of the Cromil Valley the option of surrendering," Charlerion spoke to Guthelm. "Instead they turned and ran from their homes because Grumandria gave them no quarter. They resisted you and now they are stronger.

"Instead we should sieze the advantage, but we do not need to kill and destroy everything. This beautiful land of Shalirion can become a part of our Empires. We can make colonies. Money can be made! I aim to win some of these people over, make them realise they can live in my new order!"

"Charlerion I did not come to Shalirion to make friends with these soft people. This is not just some plan to make money. I want to defeat this Empire. Once we have them under our feet then we can build what we want. They should be our slaves, not people who can be persuaded."

"Well Guthelm your methods have so far failed in the Cromil Valley. It will be difficult to subjugate that area now. But my methods will have more effect if we extend our dominion here by colonising and by trade and taxation. As time proceeds they will want to trade and they will become willing to pay our taxes."

"This is not what we came here for," complained Guthelm. Charlerion sensed he was becoming angry, and remembered he should tread warily with this wild King. "We have come to conquer and we must finish our conquest by force of arms, and of magic."

"I see you do not agree with all of my ideas Guthelm," said Charlerion. "In that case we must beg to differ. We shall continue our conquests together beyond Vedalis, but where we rule separate regions I suppose we must conquer and rule as we see fit. Part of our previous agreement in joining the Vedalis campaign was that soon you would gift the whole of this city of Cromilil to Pelancir. Perhaps it is time you moved your court to Vedalis or one of the other cities?"

"I did agree to that Charlerion, and you gave me your soldiers for Vedalis, and I gave you one of my concubines also I remember. How have you found her by the way?"

"Very pleasing indeed Guthelm. For that part of the agreement I have been most satisfied!"

"That is very good. Well then it is time to complete the agreement. The Grumandrian court will move to Vedalis in a few days. There are places to house us all there already. You can have the whole of this city, and make of it what you will, but follow my advice and do not be too nice to the soft Shalirionites or they will try to turn you into one of them," joked King Guthelm.

"Someone saved some of the souls in the Palace of the Goddess at Bricas," whispered one of Charlerion's spymasters to the King.

"Oh yes?" responded King Charlerion, half interestedly, "And who was that?"

"A wizard. A sorcerer - one of Guthelm's own!"

"That is indeed interesting. Guthelm's own wizards are starting to betray him. We must wonder why that might be," the King added sarcastically. Guthelm's barbarity had really been annoying him now. His dreams had become settled upon creating an Empire for Pelancir. He now wanted to undermine his rival's power and the news that Guthelm had lost his grip on one of his sorcerors was indeed very interesting.

"How did he save 'souls'?" asked the King.

"The festivalgoers were drugged. The drug caused them to attack each other. Without the intervention of the sorcerer they would have all killed each other or been killed by the other sorcerors. He cast spells of calming over them until the drug wore off and he arranged drinks and food to be distributed in the Palace, which speeded their recovery."

"How did you come by this information Hervold?"

We have friends among the sorcerors of Guthelm now. As you encouraged us sire. Some are quite open to our influence."

"Are they not afraid of Guthelm?"

"Of course, but they respect their allies and recognise their good sense and stabilising influence!"

"They know which sorcerer protected the Bricassians?"

"Yes they do now."

"And what is their attitude towards that sorcerer? Did they approve of his mercy?" asked the King. "That does not sound like the black sorcerors I have seen!"

"No sire. They do consider him a traitor. They are very surprised by his behaviour. It is not in his character apparently. He has always been most singleminded in his pursuit of orders, and capable of great cruelty. They are angry at his disloyalty, although our friendly sorcerors do claim to doubt their King's wisdom in attacking Bricas, when it was so far from the path of our armies. They find his behaviour difficult to understand."

"And what, may I ask, is the name of this sorcerer who has behaved with such compassion?"

"His name is Aribor."

"Aribor? I have never heard this name before. But then, how many wizards would I know. I know of Valdark, the chief amongst them, and maybe one or two I have heard of. His behaviour is nonetheless interesting. Perhaps we might use him in some way?" he said vaguely. "We have a disaffected sorcerer. He no longer serves his master. Maybe we could encourage him to put his sorcerous talents to our more humane purposes?" suggested the King.

"Maybe," said Hervold, "I am not quite sure what you would use him for? We would have to win him to our cause."

"I am sending messages to many Grumandrians. Guthelm has become a liability. He is inept and cruel. He wastes his armies, his allies as well as his enemies. He fails to use his advantages and the labours of those in his control. Grumandria is becoming a desert of the human soul. Cruel lords bully their subjects. The King takes the wealth and value of his lands and replaces it with nothing but war and instability.

After a few months Remzain felt she had settled in at the court of Charlerion in Cromilil, and was more confident of the King's ear. Sometimes he talked about matters of state in her presence, although he kept his own counsel most of the time, and settled matters of governance and war with his nobles and generals. The King was complaining about his ally King Guthelm again.

"He has wasted his sorcerors on pointless acts of terror in Bricas. He nearly emptied your city Cromilil of all its people and workers. He unleashed his Goblin allies upon other towns along the coast. There will be nothing left to rule in this once fair land!"

"As an ex citizen of Shalirion I can only agree my lord," she agreed easily.

"And now I hear a merchant's son has defeated a Grumandrian army a long way to the south, up the Cromil valley."

Remzain was pleased to hear this news although she tried not to show her natural feelings to her master the King, to whom it was not good news. As a woman of Shalirion she felt elated that things were not going well for the invaders, and the cruel barbarian Guthelm in particular. Remzain wondered which of Shalirion's citizens might have successfully fought the barbarians. "Who has done this?"

"A Shalirionite army! We know little of who they were. Guthelm's people do not know. Perhaps refugees from Cromilil? Perhaps fresh armies from south and west."

Remzain thought of Alos, her halfbrother. Had he got away safely? Had he been able to find ways of resisting the invader. And what of her brother Princil?

Charlerion had become used to his new concubine and valued her greatly for the pleasures he received from her. He had begun to show her off to his friends and courtiers, in scenes and orgies of great depravity and much intense fun, but only amongst an inner circle he could trust. They were a youngish adult crowd who all promised to create no scandals. The King made sure they understood there could be extreme penalties for those who spoke of these activities in the wrong circles. She had been encouraged to very lascivious behaviour which she had enjoyed very much. She could behave somewhat like a Shalirionite again.

Remzain began to see Charlerion with a bit less awe because she could see the young lustful playboy in him, but he was serious about his growing empire. That was something she naturally had misgivings about, but she was keen to destroy Guthelm's Empire of evil. In ridding the world of him many lives would be saved, and many lives would be made better.

Their lovemaking was soft and pleasing to her. He was a beautiful man. But he was driven by many compulsions, and she was only one of them. She knew that and she did not mind, for she was too. If he had been merely a beast, motivated by merely sexual drives he would not have been such an interesting man. He would not have motivated the lust, and she now believed the love, which she was feeling for him. His desire for conquest was part of a desire to rule and create. She could see the admirable side to his ambition, despite her worries about the damage such ambition could do to her land, and possibly other lands also.

He spent himself inside of her, selfishly this time, for usually he attended to her needs as well as to his own and took pleasure in hers. There would be times when this must be inevitable. She could not blame him, for he had much upon his shoulders and she should be grateful to have found a life so privileged and loved, when all around was cruelty and destruction. To be fed and alive should be privilege enough in these hard times.

"Are you alright?" she asked, wishing to comfort him.

"Yes thankyou Remzain. As you see I am distracted. You were lovely as ever."

"May I ask what is troubling you, my lord?"

"Matters of state. Just matters of state." She did not think he would tell her more. It was not her place to know.

"You knew Guthelm the King, did you not?"

"Of course. If you remember," she joked a little, "He gave me to you."

"What did you see of him?"

"We have spoken of this before. He did not show great interest in me. I think he had had his fill of concubines. I was just another."

"Yes I have asked you before about this."

"I hardly knew him in person. He bedded me once, that is all."

"Yes and he fell asleep from his drink! That is the Guthelm I know. He seems to give less than sufficient attention to most of his affairs, the bed as much as to his affairs of state or his battle plans. There was a time when he was keener you know, when he tried to control everything, and he stayed awake for all his women too, I should imagine. At one time he tried to conquer Pelancir, you know."

"That would not surprise me from what I have heard. How did you resist him?" she asked.

"My father was still alive and on our throne at that time, but I fought to defend our crown from Guthelm then."

"Did you? I did not know."

"We built up our armies and we defended ourselves. We stung him badly. He knew that if he continued upon that path we would sorely wound him. We sent our terms to him and he realised he would do better to accept alliance, to share mutual conquests than to fight and destroy each other. We have been allies ever since, although I would say never close."

"Do you still have anger for what he did to you at that time?"

"We do. We of Pelancir will not forget his invasion. There is no love lost between us. We fear him, but while ever he is useful to us we will work with him."

"It seems he is not so useful to you now," said Remzain. "He makes enemies of all Shalirionites so they will fight against him and Pelancir. He kills useful men and women, ruining the chances of creating wealth from conquered territories. You inherit wastelands and cities destitute of people. He attacks targets like Bricas hundreds of miles away from where your campaigns are fought, wasting your powers of conquering territory. I fail to see what use he is to you now, if conquest and occupation remain your goal. You would be better without such an ally."

Charlerion's face showed the closest resemblance to anger she had seen in him yet. She did not have to dig too deep to find the well of his anger. And yet he managed to repress his irritation and remain a polite control. His control was a measure of his respect for her and his interest in her. But she had found a sensitive place in his perfect visage.

"Remzain you cannot say that! Would Pelancir have been able to conquer Cromilil without Guthelm, his wizards and his soldiers, and his allies the goblins and dwarves, and the dark elves? Of course we could not have done this alone. The truth is Remzain, we need Guthelm and the power of Grumandria." He admitted this to her, a citizen of the conquered city, this weakness of Pelancir, and his reliance on an ally who was not much liked by his own people.

Almost flippantly she suggested, "Well if you need Grumandria and its soldiers and sorcerors why don't you remove the inept and uncouth leader from its throne. Find a Grumandrian King to respect, or perhaps you should try to take its leadership yourself. I am sure you would make a better King than Guthelm for his people." She saw immediately that her flippant words had made an impact. The way he looked at her, and delayed in any response. It was as if these ideas had come to him for the first time and he immediately recognised something he had been missing in them. When she saw his confusion and growing comprehension of what she had just said she began to wonder if she had been sensible to suggest such thoughts. She could not then know the effect of her words, but she could see the change in his thoughts thereafter. She was attracted by the ambition she saw there, but saw that it might just possibly consume him and all those who depended upon him. She had not been entirely serious when she said these words but once said their wisdom could no longer be ignored. Grumandria needed a new King. Anyone must be better than the current occupier of that throne.

Guthelm had sons and daughters by his wife and some by his concubines. He was a King who had had his own way and not lived by any rules of law. His wife, his second of these, was of a Lord in Grumandria. He had two sons by her, both still young. One was warlike and tough, but also cruel and ignorant, rather like his father. The other was lazy and indolent, badly behaved. Charlerion believed he might well ignore them and become King himself, because neither son was popular or any improvement on the father Guthelm. He sought to collect fealty from as many lords as he could. In Grumandria no royal line had been very well established. The rule of strength and violence, of usurpation had been dominant.

Charlerion waited. His ambition was not to be brought about overnight. He would allow Guthelm to continue his failings, while presenting himself as more wise, and more successful. He knew he was a better leader than Guthelm. He would offer himself subtly as an alternative and see if it might be possible to make himself a credible alternative to Guthelm, someone royal who could be an alternative way for the forsaken Kingdom of Grumandria.

"Send a messenger to the turncoat sorceror who obstructed the work of his fellow black sorcerors in Bricas. What was his name again Girard?"

"Sire you mean the sorceror Aribor who saved so many of Guthelm's victims from the magic of hatred?"

"Yes that is the one. He evidently disliked the methods of his fellow sorcerors and refused to follow the orders of Guthelm, so he went against the orders of his king and saved those people. If he could be reached perhaps he could be persuaded to join us against his cruel King."

"But was he not a traitor to his own King?" said Girard, unafraid to question his own King, who had long favoured him for his knowledge and thoughts.

"We need retainers who have lost their loyalty to their King. We need people who are able to forge a new loyalty if we are to supplant the cruel drunkard who now sits on their throne. He showed some consideration to the subjects of Shalirion. We should perhaps take a lesson from that example. To win in the Empire of Shalirion we need to win those people over to our virtues also!"

"Having embraced Shalirion I doubt that he would transfer his loyalties to yourself my liege. He may continue to protect them against our attacks."

"But if he realises we intend to overthrow the King he has made an enemy of and to give his own land a better future, then he should support us. Don't you think, Girard, he would make a very useful servant if he could be brought to our side?"

"Yes sire. You have made some sound points. Perhaps he could be persuaded to relieve his own homeland?"

"Can you make some enquiries of his whereabouts? Send someone suitable to find him and persuade him to our cause."

"We will do our best sire."

Remzain's ears pricked up. She heard the name Aribor on her King's lips, a name she recognised well. How was the King concerned with the sorcerer who had sought her out, and used her so obsessively, before losing her to Guthelm? She heard that the King wanted to find him, that Aribor had rebelled in some way against his King Guthelm. She knew little of what happened at Bricas, not the details of it. That news had not been given to her and she understood not what they said of it. She would ask Charlerion later when they were alone. Her thoughts returned to her family, protected behind the secret walls of the family home. Had Aribor remained true to his word and protected them. She had no reason to believe Aribor would have betrayed them. She could tell that he would have wished to save her father from his fate if that were possible. Although she had feared and detested him to begin with she had soon come to understand that his feelings for her had included a guarantee to protect her family as much as he could.