Tranquil Waters: The Lead Crown, Prologue (The Once and Future King)
Tranquil Waters: The Lead Crown Prologue (Once and Future King)
Dear Father,
I saw the apparitions again yesterday, but I did not write about it last night for fear that thinking of them would summon them to my dreams. I sat alone in the study after dinner attempting to read from the sacred texts in atonement for my sins when the specters came unbidden to my view. Although I am often told that this is my own mind rebelling against what I know to be true it was impossible to not watch the events unfold-- this time it was two groups of men fighting over the right to raise a flag devoid of color or heraldic... how could such a thing be worth dying for?
At Brother Maynard's suggestion I have been writing in this journal for a week now, putting my thoughts down on the pages of a simple, nondescript, leather-bound tome to be kept in the watchful care of the Church. They bade me to record all of my thoughts that struck me as important and to make note of any that seemed particularly unbecoming of a king. When I asked if this journal would be made public knowledge I was assured that no eyes but my own would fall upon the pages-- that getting my musings down on parchment would help me organize my mind.
Brother Maynard told me himself that he would guard my journal and that no soul beyond me would read of it without first receiving my permission. He, of course, got my permission almost immediately... three days ago, after the first time I dreamt of you. He asked why I write to my father, to which I told him that one's father is the greatest source of insight and the greatest purveyor of judgment and guidance. I told him that by writing to my father it could mean many things... to my sire, to my God, or even to him... the Brother who could easily have been a Father if not for his dedication to me, and his concern over my... habits.
He took me to the sanctity of my private prayer room after our discussion... it is a room few others know of. There, he bound me, and began to recite the litany of my indiscretions... he spoke of my desire for men as he undressed me; he spoke of my imbalance and my faulty humors as he let my blood and began to rid me of other fluids that caused me so much trouble; he spoke of my devotion to him getting in the way of his devotion to God even as he slid himself into me, reminding me yet again that he was forced to cater to my needs lest any others uncover my desire for men.
Truly, he is a martyr, releasing within me his blessing even as he draws from me my own unused seed. I am able to tell he enjoys his service to God, willingly accepting the burden of satiating my profane desires. Were the world different, would we then be lovers? No, for my disease is wrong regardless of the world, though I am certain I could convince myself that he desired our time together as much as I do, he continues to repeat that he does so for my benefit, and that it is a selfless act on his part despite the seeming joy he takes from sheathing himself inside me until he and I each cry out to God for my salvation.
He assures me that my desires will lessen in time, and that, when I am ready, he will receive instruction from the Church to present me with a woman that shall become my wife... assuming she is able to bear me an heir. When we discussed how such a thing would come to pass, Brother Maynard has told me that I would perform well enough because it was my duty and, if need be, we would find a woman of great discretion and introduce her to the prayer room. She would be told as much as she needed to know in exchange for her service to the crown in the duties befitting of a wife and a queen, and she would give me the heir that the Church so badly needs.
The Church tells me that an heir is of utmost importance for any king, but especially for me. Considering my many activities and interests, providing them with a son who will be able to one day be king after me would permit me more time to pursue my various endeavors... and it will, they have told me, cement my claim on the throne so that the disruption in rulership of Lehsunia may finally come to an end. With all the trouble that Noriene has caused, I can understand why this is so important, and so I wait with mixed eagerness and apprehension the day when Brother Maynard tells me that he has found my future wife.
It is Brother Maynard's guidance during this time that has helped me to maintain a grip on the events that transpire. I will be the first to admit that my perception of the world beyond the castle is sometimes lacking, but the regular updates I receive from the Church help me to be the kind of king they know this nation needs. Though I sometimes think it would be best if I could travel through my kingdom, Brother Maynard reminds me that my foibles would not always present the best impression to my subjects, and that maintaining my firm control of the kingdom at a distance is safest for everyone. I know he is a smart man thus I trust in his advice.
I had the dream last night... the one where you held me by the paw and I was a pup again. You pointed to the sky where a human father and his human pup had taken to the air using wings made of wood and wax and feathers. You had told me that it is vanity for any but the dragons to seek the embrace of the clouds. We watched as the fires of the day engulfed them, and sent their charred corpses down into the sea. The lesson, you told me, is to know your place and accept your limits. I awoke, further understanding how broken this world is.
During times when I think of family, it is hard to push past a feeling of betrayal. I am the eldest in this generation of royalty, and so I no longer have anyone of blood with whom I can seek for guidance. Thought I have known Brother Maynard my entire life he cannot possibly understand, despite his great empathy, what it means to be king. I cannot consult with my sister, as she has chosen to stand against me and my rightful claim for the throne-- it was she who caused the schism within Lehsunia in the first place. I have not seen her since this first began, but I cannot say what I would do or say if I did... not like Malcom.
Despite his young age, my baby brother is a wise wolf. In two months he will be precisely half my age... ah, to be twenty two summers again. Malcom is strong and insightful... something that seems so rare for one so young. Were I a lesser man I would envy him at how great he has become in his youth. But I am greater than envy, thus I respect and admire what he has accomplished, and I do not begrudge him in that he sided with Noriene. I have come to learn that she can be very manipulative. He, at least, visits... even if Brother Maynard does not approve, I will not send away my remaining family.
I have had so little opportunity to socialize that every one of his personal visits seems like a grand affair. Back in the days when we had the court balls and extravagant dinner parties it seemed as though there would never be a moment of silence or retrospection... and now I almost miss them. Malcom, God bless him in these trying times, has learned much from the outlanders among the tribes, and I am both humbled and reviled by much of what we discuss. It is obvious that he has accepted, if not embraced their heathen ways, though I take comfort that he remembers his prayers and still shows signs of following the true faith.
Brother Maynard, sadly, does not hold Malcom in such high esteem, and it is all I can do to encourage him to put his concerns aside and permit my door open to my brother. I almost laugh to think that I have two 'brothers' fighting over my attentions... one brother old enough to be my own son, and the other Brother of sufficient age to be my father... one not quite a teacher, and the other not quite a lover. I have heard rumors abound that question my sanity, but I would ask, if in a similar circumstance would not the strength of anyone's mind be tested?
No... they say I lack faculties because they wish to take my throne... Malcom does not desire the throne, and he is the only one who does not doubt me; he has never doubted me, despite falling to the whims of Noriene. How appropriate is it that a woman be the downfall of a man? A man of lesser faith would wonder then why it is not a better way for a man to take another man as a lover so as to close off the weakness that the female sex preys upon so readily.
Truthfully, the pious man knows that this is but a test from God, and that those who suffer the perversions such as those that Brother Maynard works with me to cleanse would attempt to elude this trial. Finding a way past the tests God gives us is not in the right. I know this, because Brother Maynard has told me thusly, even as I force him to satiate my carnal lust in an act that risks his own soul for the benefit of his king. I can find no greater loyalty than the one shown to me by the dog who has served me faithfully, above all but God, for my entire life.
I would end tonight's letter to my journal here, father, if not for one final thought. My dream of the humans in flight did not end with their impact into the sea. No... the dream simply changed. You were gone, and I was gone, and the beach upon which we had stood, paw in paw, was also gone... engulfed by the roiling waves and massive swells of the ocean. Although I existed to experience the dream, I was not a part of it, as if onlooking through eyes that held no substance of a form berift of meaning amidst the scene playing out before me.
Within the tumult and chaos of the crashing waves, amidst the lightning and the rain that followed the rapidly developing storm, a single object bobbed atop the surface of the churning ocean. A man, cloaked in the robes of a priest, face cowled against the storm, stood atop a small rowboat, easily no larger the size of a child's surf raft. He stood, despite the ferocity of the storm and the pounding of the waves, the driving rain and the crash of lightning... and he prayed. This man, teetering on the precipice of oblivion called out to God, asking for His blessing to the storm... the very thing that threatened his life... he asked God to forgive the elements and to guide it to salvation.
Father, I cannot begin to imagine what kind of man that could offer his prayer to something that meant for his destruction. Surely my understanding of that single individual's insanity MUST be proof that my mind yet works well. There cannot be a man alive in existence that would seek the welfare of something that meant him ill or, if there were, would he not be a Martyr in the true sense of the word? These are things that I must seek answers for, and so I amend to discuss this dream, and all other dreams with Brother Maynard... but only once the sun is fully up. Until then, I shall remain here in bed, bereft of all decency save the simplest pair of shorts... red, as is right.
I know not what the disarray these last few days mean for me, but I do understand that no path worth treading was ever easy. I shall bear my burdens as best as I am able and, with inner strength combined with that given to me by God and Brother Maynard, I shall yet prevail. The turmoil that now surrounds me-- the warring apparitions, the fire in the sky, and the lone priest adrift a sea of unrest... I know not what it all means, but, God willing, the reasons for the disharmony within my head will ultimately become clear. Bear witness, Father: I shall make you proud and do right by our line.
Yours always, Thaddius-Rex