The King’s Chosen
Tales from the Kingdom of Tyndall #4
Lord Wedgewood stood silently, overlooking the construction of his new manor on the island of Pride. He hadn’t been overly enthused by reports of the progress that had been made and had arrived on the island just recently to see for himself. He left the running of his estate back on the Plucco Peninsula to his oldest son and the oversight of his apple orchards throughout Tyndall to his trusted associate. It was of the utmost importance that this project be completed on time and in a manner befitting his status. He had to be the first one of the lords on the island to establish his territory and standing.
Although his standing in the eyes of nobles could be at stake based on the outcome of his family’s activities on the island, that was not what had bothered him. His standing with the crown was what was at stake now. Long has the Wedgewood family worked to grow and solidify their family name in the upper echelon of nobility, and that could all disappear in the blink of an eye.
As he stood, his arms folded and chin resting in between his thumb and pointer finger, a servant approached him.
“Lord Wedgewood, this just arrived for you.” The young man handed him an envelope with a wax seal.
“Thank you,” Lord Wedgewood said, accepting the envelope with a nod.
The young man gave a slight bow before taking his leave.
Examining the envelope, the Lord beheld the official seal of the King himself. A mixture of pride and trepidation rushed through him. Slowly, he broke the seal and unfolded the paper that was held within. Taking a deep breath, he began reading.
Dear Lord Wedgewood, I hope this letter finds you to be in good health. I write to you today to expand on our conversation from earlier this summer. As I have said, I was very pleased for you to be one of the lords who has boldly begun the development of Pride Island.
Your family has been strong supporters of the Kingdom and of my reign. You continue to impress me with your loyalty, productivity, and prudence. A man of your caliber can do extraordinary things for the Kingdom of Tyndall. Which brings us to the purpose of this letter.
I need someone I can count on to have the interests of the Kingdom of Tyndall as their primary focus when it comes to making decisions on the island. My reach, initially, to the island will be limited. A strong lord, who understands, and does what the King desires on the island of Pride, will be richly rewarded.
Not all lords who have made their way to the island are there with that purpose. You will weed out those lords who don’t deserve to be on that island, who don’t follow the King’s plans. Our process for assigning parcels of land was successful in a number of respects. But I fear a few “bad apples”, pardon the expression, have still made it to the island. You will know who they are.
I look forward to visiting the island as it gets established, and will make sure to bring with me gifts of extravagance to lavish on those who deserve such gifts.
King Atherton.
Lord Wedgewood folded up the letter, returning it to its envelope and pocketing it on the inside of this dress coat. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. Richly rewarded. Gifts of extravagance. Lavish. The King has made it abundantly clear what could await the good lord, if he did what was requested. This letter stoked the fires of urgency and determination all the more. Lord Wedgewood turned to the nearest servant, “You, fetch me an update from the foreman, immediately.”
“Yes, Lord Wedgewood, of course,” the man replied.
Lord Wedgewood went to his temporary home, a private tent set up near the construction of the manor. Sitting down at the small desk with a frustrated sigh, the lord pulled out a rolled up map. He unrolled it and laid it out on the desk, almost knocking over his ink and quill in the process. “Confound it, this desk is not adequate,” he said out loud to no one. Placing items on the edges of the map to keep it flat, he stood over it, his hands gripping the edge of the desk.
“So, weed out the bad apples,” he said quietly to himself before reading the names written in the different parcels of the island.
“Lord Brighten, no worries there. Lesettle. Paxton. Hearty. All fine. Pipswell would need to be controlled from the beginning, but easily done.” He continued looking over the names before his finger landed on Swift. “Lord Swift. There is one who could be a strong ally. I must set up a meeting with him immediately.” He called to his personal servant, who would be just on the other side of this makeshift room in the tent. “Percy, please find out how Lord Swift’s establishment is progressing. And I would like a meeting with him, as soon as it is convenient for him.”
“Yes, sir, right away.”
Lord Wedgewood returned to the map, mouthing the names that he saw there and making other notes in his head. Then he came to a name that surprised him. “Percy, what has happened with the land that was bought by Lord Ambear. I had heard he had succumbed to that disease that has plagued him all these years.”
“Yes, sir, Lord Ambear has passed away, a full month ago now.”
“He has no sons, the poor bastard. What is to be done with his land?”
“His properties have been left to his young wife, sir. Lady Ambear.
“A woman, as a lord? It is unheard of.”
“Yes, sir, though I have heard of such things in the north of Tyndall.”
“The north,” the lord scoffed, “what does the north have to offer?”
“Yes, sir.”
Shaking his head, Lord Wedgewood moved on to other names. “Nostrum. How did he weasel his way to the island. He has no place here. No honor in that family.”
Then he came to a name he did not recognize. “Percy, who is this Remington. I have not heard of him.”
“No one has, sir.”
So… Lord Wedgewood thought to himself. I have my first three to be done away with. Nostrum, Remington and Lady Ambear. These must be the individuals the King was speaking of. And I must be rid of them before the King visits this new part of his Kingdom.
“Percy.”
“Yes?”
“Find out all you can about Nostrum, Remington and Lady Ambear. And report back to me. Keep it quiet.” No need to let them know that they are not wanted until there is a way to get rid of them.
“Yes, my lord, of course.”
A half smile turned into a grin on Lord Wedgewood’s face. Richly rewarded. And it wouldn’t even be that hard. The King had chosen him. And he would not disappoint.
