Boring people were talking to him about their boring problems. This lord was talking about the poor harvest, that lord was protesting about how much tax he had to pay, and another was complaining about the roaming bands of outlaws putting villages to the torch. Dylan didn't have time for all this nonsense. He was busy been consumed with love.
His rowdy Irish courtier Sophia had captured his heart with her obnoxious attitude, biting sarcasm and raging alcoholism. She was so different to any other woman Dylan had met. Yet he still hadn't mustered the courage to approach her. But today he vowed to change that. Today would be the day he finally revealed his feelings for her. Dylan watched her from his throne. She was in a quiet corner of the court, gulping down profuse amounts of wine and talking loudly. He imagined himself over there with her, drinking and bonding, making her laugh with a sarcastic wit to match her own. How good it would be.
"Your grace?"
Dylan looked up. Lord whatshisname stood before him, looking up expectantly.
"What is it?" Dylan moaned.
"What will be done about this problem?"
"I don't know...I will lower taxes a bit."
Lord whatshisname gasped. "And that is your 'solution' to the massacre of my villagers? Your grace, you cannot be serious!"
Dylan sighed. Why did everybody come to him with their problems? Sure he was king, but surely they could work some things out on their own.
"Well, I am afraid that is all we have time for today!" Dylan said, standing abruptly.
"But-"
"We will address the matter again next time!"
And with that, his guards began rushing everybody out of the court. Dylan's moment had arrived. He rushed over to Sophia, who was following everyone else out.
"Hey," he called after her.
She turned to him and looked him up and down.
"Who are you and what do you want?" She said, taking a gulp of wine.
Dylan was lost for words a moment. "I...I am the king."
Sophia raised her eyebrows. "Oh...so you are. Now...what do you want?"
Dylan shifted uncomfortably. This wasn't going as well as hoped.
"Well...I was...just...just wondering..."
"Yes?"
"If...I mean..."
"Get on with it!"
Dylan blushed. "Ok...here goes! I think your really cool...and...wondered if you wanted to hang out some time?"
Sophia stared at him for what felt like an eternity.
"Wanna get married?" she suddenly said.
"Wh-what?" Dylan stammered.
"Do you want to get married? Right now."
"Well, um...this is all happening so fast!"
"Ok, let's go."
Sophia grabbed Dylan by the hand and lead him out of the court room. Within the hour a priest had married them. Dylan wasn't sure how it had happened.
Henry
Henry stood proudly with his ragtag revolutionary army. Morale had never been higher. The evil king had tried to take back the heart of his evil empire, and failed. It was an unlikely victory and they had somehow won against all the odds. And now, the walls of the city of London were close to crumbling. The siege had been long, but soon their patience would be rewarded.
"My lord!" Henrys messenger snapped him out of his day dreaming. "My lord, this letter just arrived...it bears the kings seal!"
Henry snatched it off of him. "Ah! Let us see what the evil emperor has to say!"
Henry narrowed his eyes. "This...this doesn't make any sense."
His men huddled round, anxious to see the contents of the letter.
"What does it say my lord?"
"Paulus...he is surrendering. He says he grants us our independence."
A rapturous cheering broke out at the news. Henry stayed silent. He had long dreamed of fighting the good fight, of sticking it to the man. He had never felt more alive these past few months...and now it was over, just like that. How...boring. Henry tried to stifle the celebrations of his men. After some time yelling he managed to get their attention.
"This...this letter. It is filled with LIES!"
His soldiers exchanged confused glances.
"Do you really think the evil emperor is going to give in that easy? He wants to lull us into a false sense of security!"
Henry was met with dumbfounded stares.
"Do you know what my answer to this peace term is?!"
There was an uneasy silence, which was soon broken when Henry tossed the peace offer into a fire.
"NO!" all his soldiers shouted in unison. But it was too late. It was reduced to ash in a matter of seconds.
"Why?" one of the men stammered in despair.
"Men, the enemy is trying to break our resolve, because they know we are close to complete victory!"
And with that, Henry walked off, leaving his despondent looking army behind. He grinned. The war for independence could continue.
Budd
"Hello Brothers!" MOS said, smiling down at them from his throne. "So good to see you after so long."
Budd and Andy stood before him in silence. Andy was fuming. They had decided to take up their eldest brothers offer of a feast, and had made way to MOS' court in Castille with haste thereafter.
Andy didn't have any interest in peace, but Budd had managed to talk him round. But now that they were here, one wrong word from their eldest brother could set him off again. MOS looked smugger than ever. And since they had arrived, Budd had had an uneasy feeling he just couldn't shake.
"Are you looking forward to the feast?" MOS asked.
"We are indeed, we have travelled far." Budd responded, making an effort to sound friendly. Peace here could only be achieved by swallowing his pride, and sucking up to his older brother. Andy had to come away convinced that MOS did not have Amanda killed. Whether he did or not was not important. The war could not go on.
"Super! I cannot wait either!" MOS continued. "The music will play, the jesters will make us cry with laughter, and the wine will flow...red."
MOS stifled a laugh.
"What is so funny?" Andy asked.
"Oh nothing," MOS said innocently. "Just this funny joke that one of the guards told me earlier."
Budd sighed. He needed alcohol. He had a feeling this was going to be a long day.
FF0
FF0 trod through the war camp with tired legs. A matter of days ago he had been the proud marshal of the King's levies...now he was war weary and seriously worried about his future. FF was not one to dance away from the truth. And the truth here were that he was on the losing side. Paulus had a scant amount of soldiers left. They were outnumbered 4 to 1, and completely demoralized.
The greatest leaders in history would struggle to turn their fortunes around at this point. It was not over yet, but it would be soon. He was not alone in knowing this though. Even Kiwi had lost his will to fight. Sure, he still made bold claims to vanquish all the kings enemies, but they no longer carried the conviction they once had. FF0 wanted to go home. So did the men he brought with him. He had a cosy little estate back in the West country, waiting for him to return. According to reports, it had remained largely untouched by the war. He could only hope that he would be allowed to return soon. He had a wife and a family waiting for him. But in the inevitable peace settlement which was sure to come, he might find himself punished for siding with the king, and stripped of his land. He preyed that Curtis would be just.
The king had been hidden away in his tent the past few days, allowing few visitors. FF knew he was probably drawing up the terms of surrender. He had already sent out a message to Henry to grant his independence. It would be a minor victory for Paulus to give Kent independence before giving up the crown to Curtis.
However, it was not Paulus who ended up making the first move, for whilst he drew up his own terms, a messenger arrived from Curtis, carrying the pretenders own terms. FF was summoned along with Kiwi to hear them. The messenger stood before them. He had a nasty smirk on his face. Kiwi looked like he wanted to tear him apart.
"Wipe that grin off your face you shit, and tell my king the usurpers terms," he spat.
"Of course," the messenger said, completely ignoring Kiwi's insults. He turned to face Paulus.
"Your grace" the messenger said, bowing mockingly. "Contained in this letter are the terms of peace. You would do well to accept them."
Paulus nodded gravely, taking the letter. FF peered over his shoulder to read.
Paulus grimaced. "He expects me to attend a feast with him after all this?"
"This is outrageous!" Kiwi roared.
The messenger held his hands up. "Don't shoot the messenger lol!"
Kiwi went red with anger. "I will do more than that, I assure you!"
"Calm down Kiwi," Paulus said sternly. "These are the terms we have been offered. And whilst I would rather not break bread with him, we are not to be sent into exile or put to death. This is better than we could possibly have hoped for.
"That is exactly the problem your grace! It is not like Curtis to be so...nice!"
Paulus hesitated, and turned to FF.
"What do you think?"
FF hesitated. Kiwi made a good point, but he couldn't bear to imagine the repercussions of refusal.
"I think that such generous terms will not be offered a second time."
Paulus nodded, took out an ink and quill and began writing.
"Your grace!" Kiwi protested.
Paulus looked at him sadly.
"Don't address me as your grace anymore Kiwi," he said solemnly "I am no longer your king."
Paulus handed the messenger his reply.
FF was relieved. Home was within touching distance.
Jeffrey
Jeffrey lay in bed. He didn't know what time it was, or how long he had been laying there. He couldn't sleep. It had been much the same lately, ever since Curtis and Rob had visited him outside the walls. They had such a vast army, and Jeffrey had been constantly worried for the kings fortunes since the encounter. For selfish reasons of course. If the king was defeated, Jeffrey would lose Oxford. It was probably for the best though. He was no longer fit to be a duke, not since his leprosy had started, deforming him beyond recognition. Even old crones looked more appealing than him now. He often found himself wondering why left had treat him so unfairly. He had never done anything bad to anybody. He killed Cheryl Cole for Paulus, only to be imprisoned for his trouble, and then he uncovered the plotting of Boc and Curtis, only to come down with a terrible and incurable disease. Why did the world punish him for trying to be nice and helpful? It was so unfair. Jeffrey began to weep.
"My Lord," came a concerned voice at his chamber door.
"Leave me," Jeffrey sobbed.
"I am sorry to disturb you so late my lord, but...we have visitors."
Jeffrey looked up. "Visitors?"
"Yes...the pretender Curtis and Earl Robert request an audience with you. They are outside the town."
Jeffrey shot up. "What are they doing back?"
"I hate to be the one to tell you this my lord, but it is over."
"Wh...what?"
"Curtis says that peace is imminent, and the crown will be his."
"Lies!" Jeffrey barked.
The messenger bowed his head. "I am afraid not my lord. Reports have been reaching us for the past couple of days that indicate it is true."
"No...it can't be," Jeffrey murmured resignedly. "Paulus would never give up."
Who was he fooling. Jeffrey had been dreading this day for a while now. He rose from his bed. His servant backed out of the door slightly.
"We must allow them entry my lord. Otherwise they will force their way in. I am sorry."
"Are you?" Jeffrey muttered. "Now you will finally have a lord to be proud of...one who doesn't disgust you."
The servants silence was reply enough for Jeffrey. Nobody would be sad to see him go. Jeffrey left his chamber and made his way to the gates. He knew he probably wouldn't see the place again.
Hupu
Hupu was on a boat. It was on water. He looked over the side to look at the fish, but he couldn't see any because the water was murky. He was disappointed.
The love of his life DR was on the boat with him, and they were going to her homeland Norway for a holiday. There were lots of other people going on the holiday too, a whole fleet of ships in fact! Typical holidaying gear had been replaced with swords, armour and catapults. DR had told him that in her homeland, the deserts were white and the weather cold. Hupu didn't much like the sound of that, and he found himself missing home a lot. It had been a long time since they left Ethiopia. But where DR went, he followed. It meant a lot to her to go back home.
His Norwegian Queen came up to his side.
"We are nearly halfway there now," She said. "Do you see that rock over there. Hupu looked to where she pointed.
"That is Gibraltar. It is the most southerly point of Spain."
"What is Spain?" Hupu asked quizzically.
DR frowned. "Hm...it is hard to explain."
"Ok. How is the baby?"
DR rubbed her belly. "It is doing fine."
"It just seemed to appear out of nowhere didn't it. Does that seem realistic to you?"
DR stared at him. "I...what do you mean?"
"The baby, it just appeared out of nowhere."
"Oh...this is awkward. Didn't you ever learn how babies are formed?"
Hupu shook his head.
"Ok dear...let me explain."
As Hupu learnt about the miracle of life, the war fleet sailed onward.
Rob
Rob was giddy. Here he was, finally! He was inside Oxford, walking the halls of his home to be. It had been a long time coming, but finally the town and the duchy had the ruler it deserved. Duke Robert. It had a ring to it.
Rob intended to prove so as soon as he could get to work in his new post. He walked out on to the walls and took a look at the view. Down below he spotted his guards escorting Jeffrey out of the gates of town. Mere moments ago they had served him, now they were throwing him out. Robert almost felt sorry for him as he watched him go, but he quickly snapped himself out of it. Jeffrey was a fool, totally unfit for rule in any capacity. He was where he belonged now; with the peasants.
Curtis approached him.
"Well Duke Robert, we have a feast to prepare!"
"I look forward to it your grace," Robert replied. "The end is in sight."
"No...it certainly is not," Curtis countered. "There is still an empire to build. But the hard part is over, certainly."
Robert nodded. "Suppose Dylan no longer entertains the idea of your dominion."
"We can soon see to it if he does," Curtis said, grinning. "However, I expect no opposition. Dylan knew the price of his crown when we gave it to him, and he is not so foolish as to oppose us."
"What of the Irish king Malion then?"
"I expect opposition there," Curtis said. "But no matter how hard he fights us, he cannot hope to win.
"It seems you have thought of everything, your grace."
Curtis laughed. "I am thorough. However, even the best miss things from time to time. Which is why I will need someone on my council who is not afraid to speak their mind."
Those words were ears to his music. Robert knew what was coming. "Do you have anyone in mind?"
"Yes Robert. I would like you to be my chancellor once all this is settled."
"I would be honoured, your grace."
From lowly earl to Duke and Chancellor in a matter of moments. His patience had finally paid off.
MOS
The feast was in full swing. In his grand hall, MOS had assembled a lavish party. His brothers would be so impressed. Aside from the countless dishes on offer, there was a wide array of entertainment too. Some of the finest musicians of the land, jugglers, jesters, poets, hilarious dwarves, the lot. And he had a special surprise arranged just for his brothers too.
MOS had spent a lot on this one feast. The first thing Budd had asked was how he had managed to afford it all. MOS simply told them that his wealth knew no bounds, though the truth was that he had received a fair amount of help from the Byzantine Emperor Willis, who had generously gifted him some money. And more was promised from the mysterious emperor from the East. MOS had been promised rule of all of Spain, so long as he pledged loyalty to the Emperor. MOS was happy enough to oblige him. This feast was the first stage in achieving that goal. Here he would end the war with his brothers...
Budd
Budd looked over to MOS, who was sat at the head of the table. He was smiling darkly at him and Andy. Budd wasn't sure what his problem was. He had been acting strange since they had arrived, like he was keeping some big secret from them. But Budd didn't care enough to pursue it. Not when he was been supplied with generous amounts of wine from MOS' servants. He had been drinking since he had arrived almost seven hours ago. Andy was sat brooding by his side. Budd knew that the whole point of this feast was to repair relations between him and MOS and end the bloodshed, but so far no attempts had been made to do anything. Budd downed his wine and grabbed another pitcher. He saw MOS nodding approvingly. Budd didn't know why his older brother cared so much about him getting intoxicated. He usually condemned his drinking habits. He sighed and drowned his concerns with a large gulp. But they soon came back as Budd recalled something MOS had said when they arrived.
'The wine will flow red' he had said. But the wine was white. There was no red wine on offer. Something was amiss. Suddenly MOS stood at the end of the table, and ordered everyone to be quiet.
"Friends, thank you for coming to my lavish feast! I hope you are all enjoying yourself!"
There were shouts of approval.
"But, we are not just here today to enjoy ourselves...we are here to end a terrible conflict between three brothers."
Complete silence fell across the hall.
"My brothers, Andy, Budd...please stand."
Andy slobbered to his feet, and Budd followed, swaying slightly. The wine must have been awful strong. His head was swimming.
"My musicians have a song to play for you!" MOS said gleefully. "I am sure you will enjoy it!"
Budd and Andy stood awkwardly in the silent hall. Everyone was waiting expectantly for the music to start playing.
And waiting...
And waiting...
"Well. this is a rather dull-"
Suddenly the musicians burst into noise. It was a rather disturbing song they were playing. Budd frowned.
"What do you think?" MOS asked.
"It is horrible!" Budd said.
"Terribly horrible!" Andy echoed.
MOS sighed. "Oh brothers, you never did have any taste in music."
Budd felt horribly uneasy.
"I had this composed just for you guys!" MOS protested.
"It sounds like a death march," Budd said.
MOS shook his head. "Why I cannot believe how ungrateful you are! I went to all this - OH SHIT ANDY, look out behind you!"
Budd turned round to see the dark robed man stood behind Andy holding a dagger. He reacted immediately and drew his sword as the assassin lunged at his brother. Budd pushed himself between them and pushed the man away. His assailant staggered backwards and tried to retreat, but at MOS' call, he was soon surrounded by guards, at which he quickly surrendered. The music changed abruptly.
MOS had raced to his side by this point. "Take this man to the dungeons immediately!"
The assassin started shouting manically as he was dragged off.
"Are you ok Andy?" MOS asked, as the initial shock began to wear off.
Andy looked confused. "Yes..."
Budd narrowed his eyes. "Wow MOS...it seems you saved the day!"
MOS shrugged. "What can I say? Family is family right?"
"I don't know what to say," Andy said quietly.
"You do not have to say anything brother...you are ok and that is all that matters!"
Budd was almost face palming. Andy might have been fooled by the spectacle, but he was not. MOS had clearly set this up. He was so transparent sometimes. Still, he thought better of mentioning it. Andy might actually leave the place keeping the peace intact now. He stayed silent.
"this letter....is filled with LIES" <--- lol'd good!
we revolutionairy kings know that if a story's too good to be true...it ain't
"There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. Some kind of high powered mutant never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die."
The intimidating watch towers looked down on them. Paulus sighed. It had been a week since they had received Curtis' invitation, and now they had arrived at Oxford after a day and a half's journey. Over the past few days the once tense and uneasy nights had been quiet and mournful. The reality was setting in for Paulus. The war was over and he was no longer king. Henry was the only English lord still fighting.
Everything Paulus had built was shattered. Sure, he wasn't dead, imprisoned, or in exile. But he no longer had his kingdom. He had planned to unite the British Isles and lead the nation into a golden age. Now, he only saw darkness ahead with Curtis at the helm.
Kiwi and FF0 were by his side. Both seemed agitated. Kiwi was pale. He had opposed attending this feast from the start, and on the trip over had several times threatened to leave the party, but he was too loyal to do so. He wore an expression of resignation as they neared the gates. FF0 seemed anxious too, but more hopeful than fearful. Paulus didn't like it one bit. But he knew that he had no choice in the matter. Refusing attendance would have meant certain death. Accepting offered a glimmer of hope.
They approached the gates of Oxford. As they did a hooded figure staggered toward Paulus. Kiwi quickly drew his sword. "Stay back stranger!" he yelled.
The hooded figure let out a low moan. "Please don't hurt me!"
Paulus recognized the voice immediately, as the man looked up to face him.
"Jeffrey! Is...that you?"
Kiwi gasped in disgust. FF0 covered his eyes. Jeffrey came closer.
"Oh men...your grace!"
"Jeffrey, what happened to your face?" Paulus asked in horror.
"Oh this? A horrid disease struck me...it gets worse every day...my king...you must help me. They kicked me out of my home! I have nowhere to go!"
Paulus felt a pang of guilt as he looked at the poor state Jeffrey was in. But there was little he could do about it now. Except maybe one thing. He reached into his pocket and grabbed a bag of gold. He threw it into Jeffrey's hands.
"I am no longer king Jeffrey, but take this. There is enough there to buy yourself a way onto a ship and get far away from this wretched land."
Jeffrey started weeping. "But where will I go?"
Paulus bowed his head. "Anywhere but here."
The gates to the town started descending ahead of them. Jeffrey cowered and ran away quickly, saying his thanks. Once the rampart was down, Paulus came face to face with Curtis and Robert.
"So good to see you!" Curtis said.
Paulus swallowed his pride. "You too...your grace."
Henry
There was a huge crash as the walls of London came tumbling down. Henry stood before the scene triumphantly. He gave a rallying cry before leading his men through the breach. They came out into a market place. Peasants ran terrified from them in all directions. One ran too and Henry grabbed him.
"What do you do here?" He demanded.
"I sell vegetables!" The terrified man replied.
Henry punched him in the face. "There will be no more vegetables for the evil empire!"
He grabbed a torch and threw it at the vile mans market stall. It burst into flames. His men cheered.
"Burn this city to the ground!" he commanded.
There were shouts of approval. There had been some dissent among his ranks since he refused Paulus' peace offer, and now they were venting all that anger. The carnage had begun.
Throughout the rest of the day and into the evening, Henry and his men rampaged through London, plundering and burning everything in sight. By nightfall, the city was completely devastated.
Ari
Ari, or Petty King Ari as he was now known across Europe...
Was holding a war council. "What is this nonsense?" he demanded. "We have been defeated?
"I am afraid so, your grace," his right hand man Jango said apologetically. "Malion has far more men than us. We could never hope to win once he had united Ireland.
Ari fumed. "Are you telling me that it was a mistake to declare war in the first place?"
Jango fidgeted. "Well...yes."
"What gives you the right?" Ari spat, slamming his fist on the table. "What gives you the right to talk to your king like that?"
Jango made no reply.
"Sure, they may call me petty king across Europe, but to you I am just king. You would do well to remember that Jango!"
"Yes, your grace. I apologize."
Ari's war was over in Ireland. With his foothold lost, any chance to establish a presence there was extinguished. Malion had united the entire country.
Ari would have to look elsewhere to expand his small kingdom.
Andy
Andy sat alone in his chambers in MOS' castle. The past week had been a daze for him. He had rarely left his room, and rarely eaten. He had made minimal contact with people. Since MOS had so gallantly saved him from that nasty assassin, he had lost the one thing that had been keeping him going...his thirst for vengeance.
With nobody to pin the murder of his wife Amanda on, there was nothing left for him except grief. There would never be another girl like his Amanda. He would not, could not love anyone again. It was forcing Andy to question his life.
Depression had struck.
"There is only one way to relieve the pain," he thought to himself sadly. He pulled out a rope and looked down at it in contemplation.
FF0
In Oxford, night had arrived and the feast was beginning.
Much of the day had been spent exchanging awkward conversation. Since their arrival, FF had been keeping track of who was in attendance. Other than himself and the kings party there was Robert, Roos, Shawn, Shawn's ugly welsh bride to be and her father, and the new Scottish King Dylan along with his wife Sophia. Also, in the past hour, Adele had arrived along with Kristoff. FF was not sure what there purpose in been there was, and nor did he care. He just wanted to get this over with. He had a home to get back to.
"So, how are you finding your new wife Paul?" Curtis asked. Everyone was sat at the table waiting patiently for the first course to arrive. "I trust you have not found any reason to poison this one yet?"
Paulus went red, but he contained his anger. He was doing well at not rising to Curtis' insults.
"Adele is wonderful," Paulus replied as courteously as he could manage. "Not only is she a good singer, but she has many other talents too."
"Yes, I hear she made a decent spymaster for you," Curtis said. "Who would have thought!"
Paulus feigned a smile. Curtis turned to Kiwi, who was sat between FF and Roos. "And what about Kiwi...are you going to tell me he made a good Chancellor. That would be a surprise."
"Why do you say that?" Kiwi spat. FF0 grimaced. Curtis just grinned and continued.
"No offence Kiwi, but your much better at killing things than advising in any capacity."
Kiwi shrugged. "Well, I am sure you mean to insult me usurper, but you only compliment me. I take pride in my penchant for violence."
Roos laughed. "I like you Kiwi. Would you like some more wine?"
Kiwi accepted Roos' offer grumpily.
"Speaking of Chancellors," Curtis said. "Where is Boc? Still locked in the dungeons?"
"No," Paulus replied. "I released him and haven't heard from him since."
Curtis nodded. "Nor me. How disappointing."
And with that Curtis stood. "Friends, the feast is about to begin, but first, let me make a toast." He raised his cup of wine and cleared his throat.
"We have fought a long time, but we are all friends here. I have missed talking and having fun like this. The senseless violence is over. Let us move on from here!"
Everyone raised their cups.
"Oh and one more thing!" Curtis said, grinning darkly.....
"Here is to Henry, for been the unsung hero who brought about the end of this war, however unintentionally!"
Paulus didn't raise his cup that time. It was the most he dare oppose the new king. And with that, Curtis ordered the first course to be brought out.
Dylan
Dylan was digging into the first course. (Insert page long description of the food here.)
Sophia nudged him.
"When can we get out of here?" she whispered. Dylan smiled.
"Why, what do you have planned?" He replied suggestively.
Sophia frowned. "Don't get any ideas! I am just fucking bored of these English people and there weak piss wine. I want to leave."
"Oh," Dylan said disappointedly. "Well, we can set off as soon as the feast ends, I suppose."
Dylan had never wanted to come in the first place, but now they were here he was kind of enjoying it. This was what been king was all about. Turning up to important events like this, and living like...well...a king!
"Did you think any more about what I said?" Sophia asked.
Dylan sighed. "I am still thinking."
Whilst riding South, she had made a rather unusual request. She had requested that Dylan invade Ireland for her, to depose the new king, Malion, and take his crown. Most girls were content with jewels, but Sophia wasn't like other girls. That is why Dylan loved her. But upon asking her why she wanted to see Malion deposed, she had been very vague. She said it was so Dylan could increase his power and influence, but there seemed to be something else she wasn't telling him. Either way, Dylan didn't relish the idea of going to war with Malion. He had forged the kingdom of Ireland out of nothing, uniting a bunch of dissonant minor rulers under one banner, and defeating the fearsome warrior Leos along the way. He sounded like a fearsome man indeed. But Dylan didn't want to disappoint his wife when she seemed so insistent. It was quite a dilemma!
Budd
Budd was laying in his chambers alongside his wife. She was heavily pregnant, and due any day now. A knock came at the door.
"Probably the servants," Budd said, shouting for them to enter. But it was one of Andy's servants who walked in, looking terrified.
"What is the matter?" Budd asked quizzically.
The servant stammered something in a quiet voice. He was shaking.
Budd stood. "Speak up!"
"Your gr...grace," he said. "Your brother...come quick!"
Budd's mind was racing. The servant walked out the door, and he rushed to follow. He came to Andy's chambers. The door was open. Budd looked at the servant, who was cowering away. Budd closed his eyes and controlled his breathing. Then he walked in. Andy was laying on the floor dead.
"Oh no," Budd said. "What have you done brother?"
MOS arrived in a rush. "Oh crap," he said as he looked down at the scene. "What the hell happened?"
Budd looked at him venomously. "What does it look like?" Budd muttered, walking over to Andy's corpse. There was a note on the floor by his side, with frantic writing on it.
"Why would he do this?" MOS said sadly.
"He couldn't live without her," Budd said solemnly.
"Who? Amanda?"
"Who else?" Budd spat. "And don't think I don't know who really was behind her murder."
MOS looked at him, the guilt written all over his face. "Budd...she cheated on him. Immaculate conception? Come on!"
Budd shook his head. "Why can't you just leave things be. So what if she was unfaithful? Andy is...was never likely to find another woman willing to spend her life with him."
MOS bowed his head.
"When you killed Amanda...you killed him too."
A sudden scream came from Budd's room.
"Oh no," Budd murmured. He rushed out. MOS followed hesitantly.
He burst into his chambers. His wife was moaning. "The baby is coming!" she shouted. Budd looked bewildered. This was the worst timing ever.
MOS stood watching awkwardly. "Can I help?"
Budd stared at him darkly. "Get out of here. Or do you want to kill my wife too?"
MOS watched sadly for a moment, before leaving.
Budd couldn't trust his older brother anymore. With Andy's death MOS had inherited a lot of land, leaving Budd vulnerable.
And once Budd's child was born, how would MOS react then? Would he want them dead? He looked at his wife and put on a brave face.
"As soon as you give birth, we are leaving here. You hear me? We are going back home."
Within a couple of hours, he was holding a baby girl.
Vernon
"Is anybody there?" Vernon murmured.
No reply came. He hadn't been visited in a week...by anyone. It was as if everyone had left him alone in the castle and forgot about him. He hadn't been given food or water all this time. He had been getting by on what he had, but it was running out fast.
"Like seriously guys! I am going to die down here!"
There was no reply save the echo of his voice.
"Well Sansa, I didn't want to do this."
The apparition of his dog looked up expectantly as Vernon picked her up.
"You were a good friend!" Vernon began to strangle her.
Sansa yelped and bit him.
"Dammit!" Vernon said, dropping her. He called after her as she ran away through the bars of his cell. "Come back Sansa, I need to eat you to live!"
Then the dungeon door swung open and crashed against the wall. Vernon froze. A mysterious figure stood in the shadows.
