The Ties That Bind
[EDWARD'S POV]
After the tournament concluded and the enthusiastic crowd began to disperse, I led my retinue of men back to the castle's throne room. The visiting noblemen and their families had been allocated accommodations in a separate wing of the castle, with all their needs attended to by my servants.
Once in the throne room, I received a list from Hoare. This list contained the names of the Top 16 contestants from the tournament. While the top eight ranking contestants already had designated spots in our household guards, I had the authority to select the final three from the next eight ranked competitors. This wasn't a decision I'd take lightly.
An ordinary lord might organize a short duel among these eight to determine the best candidates, but I, well, wasn't just any lord. I had access to the contestants' status screens, which provided valuable information about their abilities. After a careful review, I quickly marked off the top three martial levels, which stood at 13, 13, and one with an impressive 14. These rankings were indeed impressive, and I was ready to make my selections.
The following morning, I arrived in the throne room, surrounded by eleven men who had been selected to join my household guard. Several noblemen and my courtiers were present as witnesses to this significant moment. I began by knighting those among them who had not yet received this honor, recognizing their valor and potential.
Once the formalities of knighthood were complete, I moved on to reward these distinguished men for their achievements. It's worth noting that the other rewards had been distributed the previous day, but these selected individuals were being recognized in the throne room.
The contestants who secured second, third, and fourth places were each granted a house located near the castle and a monetary prize of five pounds. Their performance in the tournament had earned them both wealth and a place of residence.
However, the grandest reward was reserved for the victor of the tournament, Sigurd. In recognition of his exceptional skill and triumph in the competition, he received an acre of land, the prestigious title of "paramount knight," and a substantial prize of 20 pounds. To put this in perspective, 20 pounds equaled the revenue of a less fortunate baron for two months. Sigurd's achievement was truly remarkable, and he was rewarded accordingly.
With the addition of these eleven newly selected members, my household guard now consisted of my original four knights, Rufus, Natham, John, and Hughes, along with these freshly appointed guards. Rufus, the captain of the guard, promptly instructed the newcomers to assemble at the training grounds within the next hour, signifying the start of their training.
As I pondered these arrangements, a screen materialized in front of my eyes.
[Quest: 'Form A Household Guard' Completed!
750 XP and 75 SP gained.]
Well, this increases my realm of possibilities, I guess. Never a bad thing. 75 SP was a good addition to my dwindling 5 SP as of now. I also came to know that I could only convert my wealth into SP once a week and that too had a limit of £100. Well, I never noticed or gave much time to my shop section after I bought the 'Alchemy: Basic' skill around a month ago.
After completing my responsibilities in the throne room and entrusting Boris with the court and petitioners, I swiftly made my way to my study. The study was relatively modest in size, covering an area of around 400 square feet, but it served its purpose efficiently. It contained a bookshelf filled with a multitude of parchments bearing reports, projects, estimations, and various documents essential for governance. There was a sizable desk, large enough to accommodate a lengthy map, a wooden chair fit for a lord, and a hearth for the colder months.
This study created a suitable environment for focused work and contemplation. However, it was only as effective as the lord who utilized it. For a dedicated and diligent noble, it could be a place of significant productivity. But for those less serious about their responsibilities, it might devolve into nothing more than an isolated room for leisure and indulgence.
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16 November, 1336
The following morning, I was roused from my slumber to receive a report on the initial performance of my newly selected household guards. Upon perusing the document, it became quite evident that the handwriting was rather messy, almost as if it had been hastily scrawled in the late hours of the night. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself; it appeared that Rufus had put this report together, likely while half-asleep. Despite the untidy penmanship, it wasn't a matter of great concern, but I did find it amusing and made a mental note to tease the old man about it later.
Rufus had also taken note of Sigrid's performance and seemed to be impressed. It wasn't surprising; after all, the younger old man – Rufus, who was only in his late thirties – had a martial level of 14. This was still a respectable level, but I had appointed him as the commander of the household guards primarily due to his extensive experience in dealing with nobility and soldiers.
Today, I had an important task ahead of me. Eight years ago, my father had betrothed me to Beatrice Mortimer when I was just a young child of five. Beatrice was four years my senior. This union had been deemed suitable at the time, and it held a strategic advantage. The reason behind this was the influential position of Beatrice's father, Roger Mortimer, who held the title of Earl of March. He had served as the regent of the entire kingdom during the minority of Edward III, who was not of age to rule. Roger Mortimer also held the role of Lord Lieutenant of Ireland from 1316 onwards. These positions granted him immense wealth and power, which he skillfully used to acquire even more influence.
For three years, he wielded royal powers and engaged in a controversial affair with the Queen Mother, Isabella of France. These actions further consolidated his authority. However, one grievous error led to his downfall. In March 1330, Mortimer ordered the execution of Edmund, Earl of Kent, my father's brother, and the half-brother of Edward II. Edmund was also the uncle of the current king, Edward III, and myself. Following this execution, my first cousin once removed, Henry Lancaster convinced the young king to assert his independence.
In October 1330, a Parliament was convened in Nottingham, just days before Edward's eighteenth birthday. During this Parliament, Mortimer and Isabella were apprehended by Edward and his companions from within Nottingham Castle. Despite Isabella's plea to her son to show mercy to the "gentle Mortimer," Mortimer was imprisoned in the Tower. He was accused of assuming royal power and various other high misdemeanors, found guilty without trial, and subsequently hanged at Tyburn on November 29, 1330. His extensive estates were forfeited to the crown.
In a true Shakespearean fashion, the life of Roger Mortimer met a tragic and yet fitting end. Even six years after the events, his tales lingered in the songs of bards, echoing through the ages. One such ballad from my past life, titled 'The Tragedy of Roger Mortimer and the Mystery of Edward II,' though I considered the second part to be mere rumors and myth, depicted the first part with an impressive verse that still resonates:
"The tragedy of Roger Mortimer,
Grave news to Isabella brought to her.
At Tyburn he was hung up high,
So many came to see him die."
Shaking off these historical reveries, I dressed in my customary attire. The servants initially offered their assistance, adhering to the conventions of medieval society. However, my modern sensibilities gradually asserted themselves, leading me to decline their aid.
In my study, I penned a letter addressed to Roger Mortimer, the 2nd Earl of March and the grandson of the late 1st Earl of March. Currently, the young Earl Mortimer was no older than 8 years of age, and therefore, his grandmother, Joan de Geneville, acted as regent. Although it was expected that Joan would read and provide her opinion on the letter, formalities dictated that I address it directly to the young earl, regardless of his age. After about fifteen minutes of steady work with the ink and parchment, I completed the task at hand.
—---------------
My Dearest Roger Mortimer, 2nd Earl of March,
May this missive find you in the best of health and spirits. On this 16th day of November in the year of our Lord 1336, I, Edward Plantagenet, 2nd Baron of Wymondham, take up my quill to correspond with you, young lord, despite the tender age you find yourself at this moment.
I trust that your regency under your esteemed grandmother, Joan de Geneville, is guiding you toward a future as promising as the morning sun's first light upon our ancient land.
It is with a heavy heart that I commit these words to parchment. In the year 1328, when I was but a child of five and your Aunt Beatrice Mortimer a tender nine, our families entered into a solemn agreement, pledging our affections and futures to one another. It was a time of youthful innocence, and our families believed such a pact would bring harmony and prosperity.
However, in the years that have passed, circumstances have evolved, and my responsibilities as a lord have grown. I find myself, regrettably, compelled to address a matter of great import.
Though it grieves me deeply to do so, I must inform you, my young lord, that I hereby seek to dissolve the betrothal between your Aunt Beatrice and myself. This decision is not made lightly and is founded upon a desire to ensure the welfare and happiness of all parties involved. Our union was agreed upon when we were but children, and as we approach the cusp of adulthood, it has become apparent that our individual paths have diverged in ways unforeseen.
I trust you understand that my intentions are driven by a sense of duty and responsibility, not by a lack of respect or affection for your esteemed family. It is my fervent hope that this action will not mar the bond between our houses, and I pray that the Mortimer name will continue to shine brightly in the annals of history.
I humbly request that your grandmother, Lady Joan de Geneville, be apprised of this decision, as she holds the rightful position of regent on your behalf. I am willing to confer with her and your family to ensure an amicable and just resolution to this matter.
In closing, dear Roger, I extend my heartfelt wishes for your continued well-being and success. May you grow into a noble and wise lord, bearing the legacy of the Mortimer name with grace and honor.
With the utmost respect and kindest regards,
Edward Plantagenet, 2nd Baron of Wymondham
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