The Red King
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of Yana Toboso and Square Enix, Co. Ltd. I don't own them; I just examine all their possibilities. Storyline based on "Macbeth" by William Shakespeare.
Chapter 2: First Lieutenant
Grell kept his pace through the hallway of the castle, keeping step behind this kid sentry. This one met him and Ron the moment they arrived at the gates of the kingdom. Apparently the Undertaker wanted to see Grell right away, some important matter or something. Ron just skipped off, either he was still unloading the trunks or he was already at the pub. Grell dutifully followed the young knight, the kid was good for some chitchat though shut right up the moment they entered the main castle.
They continued down the hall leading to the King's throne room. Grell spied Lord William at the end of the hallway, the steward adjusted the grip on the scythe he held against the shoulder of his doublet; a cross expression on his face as usual.
Grell noted how William was not wearing any armor, just a fine white tunic, black doublet embroidered with a silver stripe pattern, and his usual black cape. It looked like he was back in his usual duty garb; it must have been nice to get that pesky armor off. Grell, meanwhile, still wore the singed and slashed armor he killed angels in. There were still some splashes of deep red against the tanned crimson of Grell's shirt.
William took one look at Grell and marched right over to him; he sentry, Sir Michael, hopped out of the way. He looked cross; he was so handsome when he was cross. Grell briefly admired the way the fabric of his doublet showed off a hint of his tone pectorals. He was a fit man, too bad he only stepped away from his desk when he had no more excuses.
"Just where in Hades have you been," Lord William barked. "I told you to return to base before sunset, I just knew that perimeter sweep you insisted on doing was going to be an excuse to lay around."
"Forgive me, valiant steward," Grell said with a mocking bow, resting a hand on his hip. "If you weren't aware, I was a bit busy today and felt it appropriate to take a bit of rest. Perhaps you should try it sometime, dearest Will."
William walked closer to him and gave him an irritated look.
"You certainly did perform with great ability, Lord Sutcliff," William sneered.
"Oh you really think so?" Grell broke in, putting a hand to the side of his face.
"But you are not above protocol," William finished. "If you weren't aware these are dire circumstances and it is even more important that duties be met to the letter. I gave you a directive that you did not follow. I will not be as tolerant of any more insolence from anyone. Am I understood?"
Grell smiled and shivered a little, savoring the sight of his brow furrow a little deeper.
"Crystal clear, Your Grace," Grell said. "Now I believe I have a hot date with his majesty, I'm sure you wouldn't want to keep him of all people waiting."
William stepped to the side and motioned with his head for Grell and his escort to continue on. The sentry walked forward, avoiding any eye contact with the steward. Grell passed by William, blowing him a kiss and savoring the way he scowled. Grell then stiffened his gait and kept his head up in a proper stance to greet the king. Thankfully His Majesty wasn't nearly the stodgy ass his steward was.
Once upon a time Will was capable of being a little more relaxed. Grell briefly thought on a few times after training when he managed to get William into his bunk, but that was a long time ago. Dedication to duty and getting a big title had way of making one more boring.
Finally they reached the doors to the throne room, Sir Michael stood in front of the black steel double doors, which then creaked open slowly.
The sentry took a step in the room and bowed before the king. The king crossed one leg over the other, one elbow on the arm of his black wood throne and rested his head on his hand. He eyed the young reaper in silver mail with a smirk. He peered behind him and could see the red-clad figure behind him.
"Your Majesty, I present Lord Grell Sutcliff," the sentry said, slowly rising.
Grell stepped a little closer to the kid and gave a little wave, Undertaker waved back with a grin.
"Thank you, Sir Michael, bid Lord Grell to enter then leave us," Undertaker said.
Michael bowed, Grell stepped to his side and walked in the room. Michael was gone a moment later and the doors creaked closed behind him. Grell walked across the bright red velvet rug and approached the ornate throne. The Undertaker rose up in his seat and leered at Grell with an unsettling smile. Grell returned the smile, then gave a low genuflection.
"Your Majesty, Lord Grell Sutcliff, Second Lieutenant to the Kingdom of Death, doth present myself," Grell said dramatically.
"Rise, Lord Grell," Undertaker said.
Grell came back to his feet and looked at his king, eyeing that silver crown on top of his silvery hair. The thought of that band resting on hair of red briefly crossed his mind, but was dismissed; idiotic fantasies
"I came upon a rather interesting sight on the field," Undertaker said with a snicker. "The ground was painted red and sprinkled with little pieces of angel bodies. Like the signature brushstrokes of a painting or the familiar breaths of a pipe performance, I would know your scythe cuts anywhere.
Undertaker laughed louder and clapped.
"Well done, my lord," the king said.
Grell bowed dramatically and grinned.
"I do so appreciate your kind words, my liege," Grell said.
"Now this is what I like to see from you; your abilities used most brutally against those who would dare strike against us," Undertaker said. "As opposed to wasting your time and your resources with some human whores."
Grell's smile stiffened a little, though he snickered in spite of himself.
"I just knew you would bring that up," Grell said through his clenched pointed teeth.
Undertaker chuckled, his crossed leg swinging back down and both boot soles resting on the floor.
"Consider it a compliment," Undertaker said, leaning forward. "A remark on how far you have come in a mere few years. I once saw a man who was uninspired, restless, locked in the struggle between succumbing to the bottle or succumbing to fatal ennui. Then that ravishing, vengeful sorceress came along; or rather you followed her along. It was all curses, screams, and evisceration from there."
"That was but a short while ago by our lifetimes, yet I consider that dark time behind me," Grell replied in a strained tone.
"And for that I'm glad, it showed my advocacy for you was well placed. If Lord William had his way you would still be rotting in a cell somewhere, but I just saw that as a waste of talent. You just needed a little slap in the right places, and look at you now. How many of our enemies are in pieces thanks to you?"
"I will forever be in your debt, my king," Grell said with a bow, trying not to growl out every word.
If this topic were never whispered of in the remaining history of the realms Grell would be the gladder for it. Instead it was only now that the twitters and jeers about that whole mess were starting to die down.
"And here you are, proving yourself as a most able knight," Undertaker said. "Now that beautiful, venomous sorceress is your bride. How does Lady Angelina fare?"
Grell chuckled, the king snickered a little in return. How kind of him to bring all that up. Grell could come up with some colorful answers to this, but he bit his tongue.
"She fares well, my liege," Grell replied as evenly as he could. "And I certainly cannot wait to be back in her company."
And the company of the hired boys he regularly kept around. Gods knew she had her own bevy of bedwarmers.
"I assure you, Lord Grell, you will be back with her soon," Undertaker snickered. "You certainly deserve it. Alas we have some business to take care of first, and I fear it is rather ghastly business at that. We sustained heavy losses, though I am sure you are already aware."
"Regretfully so, I watched man of our brethren perish to those abhorable creatures," Grell replied with a sigh, putting a hand to his chest.
"I am not sure if you are aware but our First Lieutenant was found among the dead."
Grell stared blankly at Undertaker, his mouth dropped open and his heart pounded.
"Lord Eric?" Grell gasped.
Undertaker nodded and put out his foot, stretching his calf.
"I assume that was news to you," the king said.
"I was not even aware Lord Eric was on the battlefield," Grell said, trying to find his breath. "All the officers reported at the same time, Eric was not among them."
"Perhaps not, but Lord William and I discovered his corpse. He was found lying right over the equally deceased body of his fair Sir Alan."
"Oh dear Gods," Grell gasped, putting a hand to his head. "Poor Alan, he had suffered with the Thorns for so long. Lord Eric and Sir Alan died valiantly protecting their kinsmen side by side. No more fitting end if tragedy should take us."
"You took the words right out of my mouth, so lovely and so tragic were these two. I would speculate that Eric came out to protect the man he loved, but we can speculate all we want. Though the truth plainly remains that our First Lieutenant is lying in a coffin right now."
Grell slowly lowered his hand to his side and gazed at the king. He knew what he would say next, though a part of him did not believe he was actually going to hear it.
"Therefore, Lord Grell Sutcliff, I now declare you my First Lieutenant," Undertaker said.
Grell's mouth dropped open again, his lower lip trembling.
"Me, my liege?" Grell cautiously asked. "You want me as your First Lieutenant?"
Undertaker nodded, that crown bobbing on his head.
"I shall declare you formally tomorrow morning, after our dead are properly buried," Undertaker said with a hand to his heart.
Grell respectfully bowed his head in response.
"In the meantime I will choose an able Second Lieutenant," Undertaker continued. "Please do keep this knowledge to yourself, wouldn't want to spoil the party would we?"
Grell bowed low.
"Thank you so very much," Grell said. "I am truly not worthy of this honor."
Undertaker waved a dismissive hand and leaned lover the arm of his throne.
"No need to be humble, all the spoils are yours," the king said. "Lord Will shall give you all the details of the ceremony and all that. Now I have some preparations to do; work first, party later. I trust you can see your way out."
Grell nodded excitedly.
"Thank you again, my king, I shall perform my duties most ably," Grell said.
"Oh I trust you shall, now get on with you," Undertaker said, waving to Grell.
Grell bowed again and walked to the double doors, the doors opened and he walked out of the throne room into the hall. His boots walked across the red embroidered rug with a spring in his step.
The words floated through his mind:
"No wonder why you will be declared the First Lieutenant."
The corner of Grell's mouth quirked into a smirk. He shook his head a little and walked toward his quarters.
The sound of frantic knocking came from outside Grell's door.
"Sir, it's me," came Ronald's voice.
Grell smiled as he reclined back in his favorite red chair wearing a comfortable white cotton tunic, a chalice of wine in his hand and his bare feet mounted on a hassock. He just knew Ronnie would be along any time now. Grell waved a hand and the bolt and chain on the door unfastened.
"It's open," Grell practically sang as he took another sip.
The knob turned and Ronald practically shoved the door open, then stepped in the room and looked at Grell with wild eyes. Grell smiled a little wider, he knew what this was all about.
"Care for a glass?" he asked, pointing to a silver chalice and the pitcher already on the table.
Ronald nodded the walked to the table, hurriedly pouring himself a cup with a bit of spillage then taking a rough gulp. He then shuffled over to Grell and sat in the chair opposite from him.
"You do realize you're being a bit familiar with your master, squire," Grell said with a light huff.
"Sorry," Ronald said halfheartedly.
In truth Grell and Ronald really didn't maintain too many formalities; Grell was fond of chiding. If Ronald really annoyed him he would slam these formalities over his head. Right now he was in a jovial mood.
"Lord Eric's dead," Ronald said in a hard whisper.
Grell sipped his glass, then nodded somberly; suddenly remembering a few things.
"I assume the word is going round?" Grell asked.
Ronald nodded back.
"My condolences, Ronald, I know you and he were friends," Grell said.
Ron sighed hard, then shrugged.
"Wasn't like we were close or nothin'; we'd drink together from time to time, compete for the best girls," Ronald replied. "We just…we had some good times now and then. Look I know you two didn't get on that well, to me at least he seemed like a great guy. It's too bloody bad, y'know? And Alan too, bloody hell."
Grell pulled his feet off the hassock and sat straight up, raising his glass.
"To Eric and Alan, may they find peace in the next realm," Grell said.
Ronald raised his glass quietly. They remained quiet for a moment, then both took a swig.
"There's another interesting rumor that's been going round, it's about you in particular," Ronald said, staring hard at Grell.
Grell raised his brows with a look of perplexity, but he had a good idea what this was about.
"I'm sure there's a lot of rumors going round about me, always is," Grell replied, taking a sip.
"Nah this one's a bit more recent, not to mention a bit bloody creepy considering our little visitor on the road. Is it true you're now First Lieutenant?"
Grell reclined back in his chair with a smirk.
"First Lieutenant? Now who would be talking about such a thing?" Grell said.
"Practically everyone," Ron replied. "Someone who knows a guy who knows a guy overhearin' something His Rotted Majesty said. Is it true?"
"Are you asking me to share knowledge the king may or may not have asked me to keep confidential?"
"Hey if it's true you got my word, I won't confirm a bloody thing to no one," Ronald said raising a hand. "Not like no one's leaked it yet anyway."
Grell looked over at Ron, seeing the kid practically on the edge of his seat waiting to hear the news.
"Why yes, Ronald, it is true," Grell declared.
"Bugger me," Ron chuckled.
"It's a secret until tomorrow morning, so I'll take you at your word you won't go blabbing."
"Hey swear to the gods, you got my word," Ronald sad, raising his hand again. "Damn it's just like that kook on the road said."
"Oh yes, just like he said," Grell replied sarcastically. "The blighter probably saw Eric get killed and thought he would impress me."
"Yeah but how the hell would he know the king would name you?"
"Oh please, somehow he already knew I was Second Lieutenant; not exactly a stretch."
"So it was guaranteed to be you? How do you know the old bag of bones wouldn't have chosen someone else? Not like you got the cleanest record."
"Thank you so much for mentioning that, dearest Ronald," Grell huffed. "His majesty went quite into depth about that same record and I would just love to hear more about it."
"Just callin' a spade a spade," Ron replied with a shrug. "Don't you find it kinda spooky this one human would know all this? Yeah he mighta seen some stuff as it was, but there's too many coincidences. I think he really did foresee something."
"Cheap parlor tricks, Ronald, nothing more," Grell sighed, waving a dismissing hand and sipping his wine.
"Don't you hope he was right about that other thing?" Ronald said, sitting up in his chair and grinning at Grell. "He did peg you for First Lieutenant, just maybe…"
"Oh gods, you can't be serious," Grell replied.
"Well why not? As I believe he predicted you being First Lieutenant, maybe he saw something more interesting. I mean even you and I didn't know about Lord Eric, we didn't even know he was going to be there in the first place. Maybe this bloke got another vision of something we ain't seeing yet."
"Even if you're right, and you're not, me being First Lieutenant was remotely plausible. Me being king, me succeeding the Undertaker, the Undertaker being succeeded at all? That's all pure comedy."
"Is it really? Think about it, how long's the king been on the throne? Hundreds of years, maybe a thousand? We do get old, that's a known fact. How many stories have all of us heard of his glorious battles and how many angels, demons, undead, and whoever else he's cut apart? You hear any recent stories? You think he woulda passed up fighting today if he was a lot more spry? All he does is just sit on his throne and walk around from time to time. I hear rumors all the time the guy ain't gonna maintain power for too much longer, that he's let slip to a couple people he's gonna retire someday."
"Probably the same rumors that have floated around since I was a squire and that was over a century ago. Even if the old bugger were to abdicate, I doubt I would be his ideal next in line. He's got a well-trained little lapdog for that."
Ronald shrugged and sipped his drink.
"Then again don't the king and Lord William hate each other. I don't exactly get a warm fuzzy feeling when I see them together," Ron said. "Anything they do say to each other sounds like a lot of sniping."
"Well that's not an inaccurate observation," Grell muttered. "However Will turns his pointy nose up at everyone, even His Majesty. Just because they're not the best of chums, that doesn't mean Undertaker thinks any higher of me. I was certainly reminded of that today even as he was placing honors around me. No Ronald, there isn't a chance in hell that I will ever be king."
Grell's own words somehow produced a minor sting within himself.
"Then why would the seer chap even say anything?" Ronald asked.
"I don't know, probably to mock me. Even if he did predict my current honors, he likely added the king bit as an offhand joke."
Ronald cocked his head then nodded.
"You're probably right, it's still fun to think on at least," Ron replied, taking a swig from his goblet. "King Grell."
Grell sat up a little higher in his chair and straightened his posture in an exaggerated manner, putting his nose in the air.
"Me as ruler of all of the Death Realm," Grell said in a haughty tone. "Silver would look so good on with my hair. I'd at least redecorate that blasted throne room. I'm sure those banners have been there since the old codger has been in power."
Ronald nearly spat out his wine and slapped his knee in laughter. Grell chortled and sank back onto his chair sipping his own cup. Yes the whole thought was such a laugh; everything he did was a laugh. Lord Grell the crazy poof was just a big bloody joke, wasn't he? Grell tried to keep his smile in place despite this thought.
The burial of a reaper was always a sacred occasion in the Death Realm. Removed from the mortal coil and vulnerable to only the most spirit charged illnesses and attacks, death for a reaper was rare. For the brethren the death of one of their own always hit hard. Those who passed from eternity were always given a solemn and sacred burial, preferably on the sacred ground known as the Gray Plains.
Through the night the reaper's goblin servitors gathered on the Gray Plains and dug one hole after another. By daybreak their grim work was done, the creatures shuffled back to their caves. In a lumber yard somewhere else, another group of goblins prepared a mass of coffins.
When the sun was higher a horde of reapers marched on the plains. At the head of the procession was the king himself, his court or lieutenants and advisors close behind. Grell walked in step five feet behind William; the gap representing their departed First Lieutenant.
The dead were lined up in their casks; even if only a few pieces could be recovered they were properly placed in the full-sized coffins. The king made a grand speech in honor of the fallen. A cleric committed their spirits to the gods, though no one really knew what happened to the spirits of reapers who had passed from the planes.
One by one the fallen were interred by name. The last bodies to go in were Lord Eric Slingby and beside him Sir Alan Humphries. Grell watched the two go in with a solemn look. No he never cared for Eric, but he would certainly have never have wished this. He played that statement over and over again in his head; it managed to conjure some heaviness in his chest but only for a few seconds. The one thought he had as the last of the silver sand went over Lord Eric's cask was a thanks for the new opportunity.
Later the collective gathered in front of the grand castle, the king gave the requisite speech to his flock.
"We have heard nothing from the angels, though we know there are a few remaining foes limping about," Undertaker announced. "We are now working with our allies to drag up some answers that will lead to justice."
Grell glanced over at William, seeing his nose wrinkle a bit though he maintained his usual stoic demeanor.
"I swear our brothers will be avenged," the king calmly declared.
A roaring cheer rose from the collective, though Grell hardly heard a battle cry in those words. He barely heard any power at all, such was the king's manner but to Grell something seemed a little more muted.
The king then presented honors and accolades to the bravest and most able soldiers. Grell was the first called up; he was presented with commendations for his prowess in battle and for saving the lives of other reapers. The crowd cheered at each declaration, though it was the occasional jeer and insult that stood out to him most.
At last he kneeled before the king, the silver medallion of the First Lieutenant bestowed around his neck. He kissed the king's skull ring then rose to more cheers. Grell waved to the crowd; every eye was on him now. He was the hero, he was the able warrior, everyone for good or ill was talking about him. If only he were standing a little higher.
Then he was dismissed with a nod of the head. As soon as it began his moment of glory was over. He stepped to the side to join the rest of the company, the others who performed valiantly receiving their own sacred adulation. In a minute Grell was just one of the crowd again. He watched one of his colleagues Roger Middleton, a short man with slightly spiky black hair, declared Second Lieutenant. He bowed at his successor for the title, receiving a respectful bow in return. How glorious it felt to be just one step above.
Eventually accolades were passed, the speeches were done; everyone scattered to their own respective states of mourning, celebration, or business as usual. Grell hung about through the day, spent some time with some of the younger knights he had helped train, savored all the congratulations and currying favor (sincere or otherwise). He planned to spend just one more night in the castle before returning home. Grell's role in this whole calamity was done for the time being and this realm was getting mustier by the minute.
After a few ales with Ronald and some of the kids, he returned to his room to pack a trunk to take back to his manor at the edge of the human realm. He was ready to return to his own territory. After all this he was actually missing his dearest wife.
The thought put a sad grimace on his face as he packed his trunk. They had barely spoken before he left, too busy with their respective business or so they would say to their servants and guests. Now he was actually looking forward to some of their usual conversations. She was always good for a laugh and they would gossip like fiends, though as of late that was all they had left of their relationship.
Grell knew he would be going back to a solitary castle and occasionally cross paths with the lady of the house. It was a sad state, but Grell knew he should have expected it. Infatuation, idealism, and fantasy never translated into anything permanent or stable.
When they were first together he swore he was in love with her, she fascinated him to no end; such a cold hearted murderess of such power. He wanted to help her carry put her revenge against unappreciative whores. He was even willing to tolerate the closeness of a woman's body; after all she wasn't just any woman, she was dearest Angelina.
When their escapades were exposed he escaped harsh punishment thanks to the king, though she was a fugitive with a price on her head. Grell felt it was his duty to shelter her. Their passion for each other was so strong they even married, she became Lady Angelina and he was willing to take the role of a woman's husband. They were supposed to live happily ever after like any fairy tale, though Grell often forgot the ideal is never the reality.
Grell blocked the thought from his head as he finished packing. It was all such unpleasantness. Perhaps now after surviving a battle that had claimed his most stalwart colleagues, now that he had his accolades in hand, perhaps this was the turning of the proverbial new leaf.
He would probably return home to find her holed up in her study working on new spells, most likely she would be accompanied by whatever strapping young apprentice was her favorite of the moment. Or maybe they would actually tolerate sharing a bed, it as all up to their tempers and the fates.
Before going to bed he did pen her a note. It something short and sweet, basically letting her know he was alive if she heard any rumors and announcing his impending return the next morning. After he was done he sealed the envelope then walked over to the octagonal glass box hanging from the ceiling. He imagined the location of the envelope, then slipped it inside the slot in the box. The envelope floated in the box for a moment, the glass glowed blue and with a white flash the envelope was gone and to its destination. Grell then settled into bed, feeling a little more relaxed and even more eager to return home.
He awoke bright and early aiming to get back home as soon as possible. As he collected the last of his things, the message box then glowed with a bright red pulse; an envelope now inside. Grell rolled his eyes he knew exactly what this was. The pulsating light meant this was important and from a high place. Grell walked to the box and opened the glass door with a huff, picking out the envelope and seeing the light dim and the glass return to its normal hue. He then ripped open the envelope, this has better have been a goodbye memorandum.
"Lord Grell, your presence is requested at an urgent meeting of the Court. Be at the King's hall at half-morning."
Grell flung the message across the room. This was certainly annoying, though not unsurprising. Perhaps there were some urgent developments, or perhaps the old coot wanted an excuse to keep everyone around a little longer. Regardless Grell dressed properly in his nice red leather doublet and burgundy cape and then phased to the hallway outside the throne room at the appointed time.
A sentry was right at the doors and nodded in greeting, then opened the doors and allowed him in. Grell nodded back and walked into the throne room, the doors closing behind him. The king was right there on his perch all the other members of the court standing on the floor around him. Some of the others nodded in greeting, others just looked at him, some didn't even bother; the king did wave when he saw Grell and Grell waved back.
Lord William was there obviously as was Lord Roger, most of the corporals were there and more were filing in. Standing beside the king practically in one huddle were the nobly dressed, white-haired councilors. Technically this panel was even above William himself, but they were mostly regarded as advisors; the king was inarguably the one in charge.
After a few minutes everyone was accounted for. Undertaker counted off everyone with a bony finger then smiled in satisfaction.
"Good, I see everyone's here," the king said.
He leapt up from the throne and stood in the middle of the floor, the company surrounding him. Undertaker slowly walked around the circle, eyeing everyone around him. When he met Grell's gaze, Grell gave a merry grin; Undertaker smiled a little wider then moved onto the guy next to him. The king then stopped in the middle of the circle.
"My apologies for the rather short notice, though I just couldn't wait any longer to share the exciting news," Undertaker said, shaking his body with these last few words. "We have had a very eventful few days indeed and I know all of you are looking forward to returning to your usual cushy surroundings."
His eyes fell on William as he said this, then he looked at Grell and the rest of them.
"Don't worry, you shall all be able to get on with yourselves soon, though there are a few developments of which you should all be aware," the Undertaker continued. "We have not heard from our angelic friends since they showered us with their awesome presence. However we do have a few preliminary leads. As of now the task of tracking down and dealing with our foes belongs to our new friends on that much warmer plane."
Grell saw William's upper lip curl and his eyes narrow in disgust. Grell smiled a little in response. Undertaker looked right at William and nodded.
"Indeed, I am speaking of those friends in particular," Undertaker said. "Last night I had a little private chat with Lord Sebastian and some of his flock. As of now our demon allies are tracking down the angels as we speak."
Grell could see William do all he could not to roll his eyes, his cheeks were now a light shade of pink. Was prim and proper little William getting truly angry? There were a few similar expressions around the circle, especially from the councilors; narrowed eyes, tight mouths, postures suddenly a bit more upright. No one said anything; everyone knew any words were a waste of breath. Everyone could just reluctantly nod.
"For now this matter is in our hands only loosely, everything that happens from this moment on is plainly a mystery," the king said with a little sigh and dramatic shrug. "We do need to be on our guards, prepared to spring into action. Our next role might be as warriors or it may be as diplomats, likely both. In either event I will require the able counsel and leadership or everyone in this room."
Everyone nodded and gave their own respective words or grunts of agreement.
"And now I get to be the bearer of exciting news; one reaper's role in particular will need to change a bit," Undertaker continued.
Grell's polite smile relaxed, one thought went through his head. It was one wild, impossible thought though in the past day the wild and impossible proved itself capable of happening.
"I shall require a man capable of working a bit more independently and he will receive a few extra powers to his job description."
The thought was now screaming in Grell's mind. He tried to shove it out with reason, though the fantasy was growing a bit larger. He could hear the words: the role of First Lieutenant would be expanded to more of a warlord. All the jewels and praises presented to Grell yesterday proved the king certainly thought highly of him. What would happen from there?
"I need someone right next to me with a little more force than a mere pen pusher."
The king did an about face right to William. Grell's heart slid into his stomach and his postured dropped a little. Such was the penance for believing in fantasies.
"Lord William your duties are going to change," Undertaker declared, walking a few steps close to William.
William's eyes widened a bit and he looked right at the king.
"You will remain the Steward, though I now give you the title of Duke," Undertaker said.
Undertaker pulled a silver ring with a black stone from his pocket, then took William's left hand and placed the ring on his index finger. William's mouth dropped open and he looked like one more nudge would knock him over. Grell's stomach tightened a bit.
"My liege, I don't know what to say," William weakly replied.
"There's nothing to say, Duke William," the king replied. "As of now I do request that this one title remain between all of us until I make a formal announcement. Such an announcement will not be made until your role is more clearly defined."
William's look of astonishment subtly changed to one of annoyance. Grell felt almost relieved, maybe this wasn't as much of a grand accolade as he suspected.
Undertaker stepped back, clearly intending to say more.
"Duke William will have the power to act in my stead when I give him leave to," Undertaker explained. "If we are soon to be at war I will want someone with satellite powers to help manage the affairs of the kingdom. I will need to split myself in to essentially, though as we all know that would be rather inefficient. So you, Your Highness, are now my eyes, ears, and hands for whatever end I need you to serve."
William's expression did not change all that much. Clearly he was hearing something he didn't find all that promising.
"And if we find ourselves in a time of peace?" William asked.
Undertaker gave a feral grin.
"Now comes the fun part," Undertaker said.
Grell's heart pounded, a hundred opposing thoughts coursing through his mind with one conclusion.
"If wonders but wonders everything is peaceful: the angels are dealt with, it's boring business as usual, then you shall remain my clone," Undertaker declared. "I do love the thought of getting an extra set of hands. In addition you will also become my apprentice. For the next few decades, the number to be determined, I shall teach you the fine art of being me."
Grell felt his knees buckle though he kept himself standing. He didn't want to hear what he had to say next but he knew full well what he would hear. Judging by William's gaping mouth he did as well.
"And when the time is right, you shall become me in a sense: when the time is right, I shall be stepping down from this throne and handing this crown over to you."
A collective gasp went up from the group. Members of the court twittered amongst themselves, others just stood there with wide eyes and slack jaws. The councilors gave a few shouts of outrage that the king ignored; apparently he hadn't filled them in on his plans. Grell felt ill, he wanted to sink down in a hole in the floor. William's complexion was now bone white, he stared hard at the king, his mouth wide open.
Undertaker took a step back and looked at everyone in the group with a pleased smile, then slowly nodded as if in regret.
"It's been a fun time, though perhaps even this must come to an end," the king sighed. "I'm getting tired, I'm not as quick with a scythe as I once was. The old guard is just that, old."
Undertaker walked to William and put a good-natured hand on his shoulder. William looked like he wanted to bite it off.
"William, I know you and I have had our differences of opinion, but I have always found you a most able leader," the king said. "These past few decades you have been a talented steward, which is why I believe you are the best man to lead this rabble. I shall train you in the ways of ruling this place, though naturally the way you rule is indeed up to you."
"And when shall that be, my liege," William asked in a growl.
"A few decades as I said," Undertaker replied. "Depending on how quick a learner you are and certainly depending on the fickle nature of our business. I would say as early as twenty-five years, possibly as late as fifty."
Undertaker pulled his hand from William's shoulder and faced the group again.
"Meaning you all are still stuck with me for the next quarter or half a century," Undertaker said. "I'm sure there is plenty of damage we can do in the meantime."
William's mouth closed and Grell saw the muscles in his jaw tighten right up. He was not taking this news graciously, though for why was a bit of an interesting mystery. The thought was soothing to his wounded ego.
"I will ask you all to keep my little announcement in these walls," Undertaker said, motioning a finger around the room. "This is a detail I am only sharing with my trusted companions, and yes I do trust all of you. As I have said, we are in a precarious position; all plans for the future need to be made. There's already so many juicy rumors floating about, I really don't need anything else. This is all for your ears only; do I have your word you won't go blabbing?"
Grell nodded and gave his word, everyone around the circle did as well from simply saying "I swear it" to bowing low.
"Good, because if I do hear a few buzzings of this kind I'll have a general idea who leaked it. If I don't know the specific hole, I will just have to fill up all possible weaknesses," the king sneered. "I'm sure you all catch my meaning."
Everyone nodded, some with blanched visages and nervous looks.
"Excellent," Undertaker responded with a smile. "Now I believe I have said all I have needed to say. Go about your business now, though you all shall hear from me very soon. You're all dismissed."
Undertaker waved his hands to shoo everyone away. Most members of the court continued to stand in shocked awe for a moment, then some of the corporals walked off with a bow; soon everyone else followed. The councilors walked off in a tight huddle, likely they would regroup in private to scream.
Grell gave a grand bow, seeing the king smile and nod as he passed by. He couldn't stand the sight of the old bastard right now, he just wanted to get out of there and get back home.
Grell soon joined the others in leaving the chamber, though out of the corner of his eye he saw William march right up to the king, face contorted in anger.
"We're not done here," William barked at the king. "I am certainly not leaving until I have some explanations."
Some members of the group slowed their steps and looked back at the new Duke. Grell slowed his step a bit though he only subtly glanced back. He saw the king hold up a hand bidding peace, his smile firmly in place.
"And I can certainly provide once we have some bloody privacy," the king said, raising his tone and looking at everyone in the room.
Everyone's pace quickened including Grell's.
"I believe I am owed as much," William hissed at the king in a lower tone.
Grell walked from the room, looking back for a moment and seeing William practically in the king's face. Soon the doors closed, the silence wards were in place, and the show was officially over.