The Four Kings of Bremia--Chapter One: Death of a King

Chapter One: The Death of a King

In the mist that never lifted from the Bremian hills, things began to happen.

Midrah, an elderly man lay dying. His wive had died years before. He was childless. And he was king. Three men watched him anxiously, waiting to hear which one of them would be named king.

Midrah coughed, shaking his thin body mercilessly. “I name my heir,” he said with finality. Three men leaned forward.

One was Belshar, the king’s adviser. He had had the assurance the crown, but he had fallen out of favor with the king in the past months of the illness and now was not as sure. He patted the thin claw tenderly hoping that in the last minutes of the king’s life, all his hard work would be remembered.

One was the young, turbulent Prince Rignald from the neighboring country of Bulima. He had no doubt about who would become king. Not only was he of royal blood, but his mother was the late queen’s niece. He glared at Belshar harshly.

The third was almost as thin as the king, and twice as cruel. He was Vloman, a man of great power but unknown parentage. And he knew he would be king. Even if he was not named, a vial of poison was hidden in his sleeve. He smiled with a hint of the malice that was never quite hidden.

“I name…I name young Lenia of the rosy cheeks, Lenia of wisdom unmeasured. Lenia, of the hills of Bremia.” And the king breathed his last.

Belshar slumped, upset and broken. Rignald stamped his foot in an angry passion. Vloman smiled at his companions. “Gentlemen, we need not find this Lenia of the rosy cheeks. If we never find her, she will never rule. Instead let us draw lots for the crown.”

Belshar shook his head, faithful to the king, even to the death. “No, Lenia must be found.”

Rignald stamped his foot again. “I will find the girl. I will find her, and when I do, she will be regretful that the king knew her name. She will not be queen. She will never rule Bremia.”

Belshar looked at him, amazed. “You wouldn’t kill the girl?”

“I would indeed.”

Belshar’s face turned alternating shades of white and red. “That is not fair to her. The poor girl has no say in the matter. No, we should try to convince her to give up the crown in favor of one of us.”

Vloman smiled, again with malice. “I think both ideas are right. You Rignald, shall go find her, and bring her back alive. You Belshar, shall find out everything you can about her, as well as arrange King Midrah’s funeral pyre. I will take care of the final details of his estate. We will let the girl decide who will rule in her place.”

Rignald and Belshar exchanged uneasy glances. Neither liked Vloman. Neither trusted him not to snatch the kingdom when their backs were turned. But there was no alternative.

“I believe it is wise.” Belshar looked like he disagreed with himself.

“I believe it will work.” Rignald looked fiercely upset. “I will set out at once for Lenia of the rosy cheeks.” He bowed stiffly and left the room even more so.

Vloman turned to Belshar. “Mro Belshar, be very careful what you do. I am going to rule this kingdom. I will not let anything get in my way. If you try, you will be gotten rid of, and so will young Rignald. I warn you, stay out of my rule.” Then Vloman left the room with a great sweep of his blue cloak.

Belshar shook his head. Bad times were in line for the country of Bremia.

ξ


In the north of Bremia a small man with a large mind was gathering army strength. He had heard much about the king’s illness, and he thought that attacking and gaining control would be easy. He did not know that three men were already in a fierce struggle for the throne, one of which was his own twin. But even if he had known, he would not give up his dreams of the crown. No, that deserved to him and to him it would go, as soon as his warriors were fearless and trained within an inch of their lives.

Cloban smiled, looking much like a darker version of Belshar.

ξ

High in the hills Lenia of the rosy cheeks sang as she milked a cow named Daisy. She knew nothing of politics, of palace intrigue. She knew nothing of the handsome, vicious young man galloping his horse towards her. Yet her sweet ignorance would not last long.