Althalos
His men came quick.
After he had traveled with the remnants of the Elder Council and his most trusted to the Deadwater, his first order was to send a message to each of the Counts who still held loyalty to him. Simon took care of that honor, yet it felt like months before anyone replied. When it was truly not even a week.
And then they started piling in. The closest cities arrived first, with the men who were considerably farther coming later on. The cities that were on the farthest eastern side of Cyrodiil never came though, as it would be too dangerous for them to pass the Imperial City and take the risk of encountering rebel forces.
The last to come was Count Vergo, despite the fact that Anvil was closer to the Deadwater than any other city. Althalos had always resented Count Vergo since he had been denied Anvil by his brother, Titus, after the Great War. He had always viewed it as rightfully his, but Vergo did not share that thought.
But finally, after they all had assembled, each of the armies joined outside of the ancient fortress. The camp was considerably larger than any Althalos had ever seen. And with the Imperial City taken- and the heart of not only the Empire, but the Imperial Legion under the Dragonborn's rule—Althalos was on the losing side. That will not be for long, though. It is time I made a move.
His first order of business was the construction of siege towers. They would need plenty of those if Althalos ever hoped to retake his throne. Also being built were catapults, trebuchets, new battering rams, and even crossbows for some of his most skilled archers. All of these would be a necessity, and could decide the fate of this war.
The Dragonborn will not be expecting this. We will take him by surprise, that much is certain. The Dragonborn had the Divines on his side, but Althalos had fate. It only made sense that someone capable of ruling would sit the Dragon Throne, not a boy. Althalos had heard the story of how he denied the marriage proposal from the daughter of the Count of Anvil. A foolish move. Those were swords you needed. But now they're mine.
When Althalos looked down from the highest balcony of his fortress, he smirked to himself. The camp looked breathtaking large from up there, and whenever the true Emperor looked upon it, he was reminded of his days during the Great War. When he rode along with his soldiers to the Imperial City to join his brother and retake the seat of the Emperor. Titus didn't thank him though…he never did.
Then a time came when Althalos invited all of the Counts to a feast inside his fortress. There was no better way to begin a group gathering, and all of them no doubt were hungered from the journey. The Lord of the Deadwater and Emperor to Tamriel had his finest cooks prepare five large courses for them. The men outside of the castle would eat as well, as payment for their actions to come.
"I'll make five, m'lord. The first will be chicken, then mutton, then duck, then pork, and finally some salted beef to finish it off. I'll include some roasted vegetables and a few pastries afterwards. Will that satisfy m'lord?" the chef asked.
"Aye, that will work splendid." Althalos said, "Do well, and I may just raise your pay."
"Thank you, m'lord!"
The cook went to work soon after that, and Althalos had Simon take over the rest of the affairs. He had too much on his mind to worry about such things, and with that he did no more concerning the feast. They would all come sooner or later, and Althalos was sue the Counts would be pleased with the affair.
He retired into his chambers for the rest of the day. The feast would be at sundown, so he had hours to spend before that happened. But it was when he heard a knock upon his door that the guards opened it. Striding in was Simon, his trusted servant.
"Lord Simon, I had not expected you." Althalos told him.
"I didn't think so." Simon said, "It is not often that I would bother your rest, my lord. But we have things I must discuss with you alone. I can trust nobody else with this information."
"Tell me." The true Emperor commanded.
"A letter, my lord." Simon unfolded the piece of parchment that looked slightly crumbled. He did not hand it to the Emperor; instead he chose to read it aloud.
"I'm coming for you. Order your men to return to their homes, or I shall burn every last one of them until nothing is left but ash. Do not think your walls can save you. My dragons can fly higher than any wall you can raise. There is no need to continue this conflict, no need for more death. I will arrive within the next week to finally take your crown. It would be wise to not resist." Simon said, "Signed, True Emperor of Tamriel."
"He's acting quite brazen, isn't he?" Althalos said, "The boy has much courage, I'll give him that, but little sense."
"We received this letter an hour ago. I can only assume he is just beginning the march." Simon replied.
"Let him march, I'll ride out to greet him. There is no running this time." Althalos said, no ounce of fear in his eyes.
"You're even weaker in the field. It would be wiser to stay in the castle, my lord." Simon pointed out.
"And how will I fit fifteen-thousand men in this castle? Nonsense, I will not flee from the Dragonborn this time. Let him ride his dragons, my archers will bring them to the ground quick enough. If the men of Skyrim can live with them, so can we."
"We're on the very coast of Cyrodiil. If you make this move, there will be no chance for retreat."
"There's no need for retreat. Why should I flee from my enemy again? It was a foolish errand. I practically gave him the Dragon Throne in my fear. But no longer. Those creatures are just over-sized lizards. And I can assure you, my lord, that an arrow to the heart will kill a dragon just as it does a man."
"That won't matter if you're burnt alive." Simon said.
"What would you have me do, Simon?" Althalos asked, "If I stay in the castle, they will have me surrounded. If I surrender, the Dragonborn will prance me around the Imperial City and hang me for a traitor to Tamriel and the Empire. What can I do but fight? It's all I know to do…it's all I can do."
"My lord, the Dragonborn is known by most as a man of peace." Simon said, "Perhaps yielding is not so wrong. You need not fear death by bending your knee; the Dragonborn is not Pelagius the Mad."
"Perhaps not." Althalos said, "He's more like Damian the Unblooded."
"Unblooded is something he is not, my lord." Simon said, "If he had no dragons, I would urge you to fight back. But this is a war we cannot win. You are facing impossible feats, and the odds are not in your favor."
"I don't need the odds." Althalos said, "All I need is a blade."
"Very well, my lord." Simon sighed, defeated once again. "I will depart. Feel free to keep the letter, and reply if necessary."
Simon said nothing after that, and quickly set the letter on a countertop before discarding himself. When the door shut closed, Althalos took a second to process the Dragonborn's threat. He acts bolder by the second. That damned throne is changing him slowly. Soon he would be like the rest of the Emperors, drunk from power.
The time for the feast had come, and Althalos had taken his seat. Many had thought he would have dressed in colorful or rich raiment, but instead he chose to stay in the same brown tunic he always wore when not in battle. The others seemed to follow the same trend, as none of the Counts or Lords seemed to dress according to their rank.
They took their seats, those highborn fellows. It was quite the ordinary volume in the room until some of them started drinking. Althalos shoved the tankard set for him aside. He distrusted wine or beer for a long time.
"Do you drink, my Emperor?" High Chancellor Urandil said.
"Not particularly, no." Althalos replied.
"Why? It is the greatest thing to ever cross the lips. Surely you wouldn't miss out on it?"
"I don't drink," Althalos began, "Because when my father drunk, he was so dangerous that he raped and killed my mother under its influence. Does that answer your question, my lord?"
Urandil said no more.
From the first course came the chicken, freshly made and still steaming. There were plenty servings for everybody, and none went hungry. It tasted quite good, even Althalos would admit that. The remnants of the Elder Council began to wolf down their meals, as if they had not eaten in days. High Chancellor Urandil noticeably rejected any food.
The second course came, and the third, and the fourth. By the time he had finished and the fifth was on his way, Althalos felt as if he was going to explode. It was customary for a Lord to eat with his subjects during a feast, as a gesture of good faith. But even after that he wished he had rejected the food.
"A toast to the true Emperor!" the Count of Anvil, Vergo, rose. Althalos felt surprised, Vergo had known that Althalos coveted his city.
"Aye, I'll join that toast!" Lord Joshua Orwell, servant under the Count of Kvatch (Which was now partially restored) said. Althalos still remembered when Orwell had got in an argument with him the day the Elder Council named him Emperor.
Althalos rose, as was expected. The whole room joined in, raising their cups, tankards, and bottles.
"To the true Emperor! Let no dragon stand between him and the throne!" Vergo chanted, that annoying smirk still across his lips. "Emperor Althalos Mede will bring glory to the Empire once again!"
"To Althalos!" they repeated.
This feels…odd. Althalos felt that way whenever Urandil would look at him. The High Chancellor of the Elder Council continued to stare at him, his eyes never leaving. The true Emperor felt amiss, and quickly looked away. When he looked back, the Chancellor looked worried about something. His eyes turned to his tankard.
Why is he looking at my tankard? Althalos didn't drink. And why did the Chancellor look so suspicious. Is he planning something? Should I have more reason to distrust the Council?
"My lords!" Althalos called out. Soon, their heads turned to him. "There is a toast I would like to make, to our great members of the Elder Council. Were it not for them, our land would be nothing but barbaric savages like the Nords."
They bursted with laughter.
"It would be an honor, if the High Chancellor would share my cup." Althalos smirked, "If you would, my lord?"
He left his chair and approached the High Chancellor, who looked slightly fearful. "Will you drink, in my honor?"
Urandil took the cup without question, but he did not drink. His eyes were on level with the Emperor's for at least a minute. The noise died down and the men at the feast ceased their laughter. Urandil looked to the crowd, held the cup high, and moved it towards his lips…
Then, unexpectedly, Althalos felt warm liquid course all over his face. His eyes burned with a fiery pain, and he heard the rest of the men shouting. Althalos could see the vague shape of Urandil run, yet Althalos' vision was hindered. The men began to scream, and then the sound of dozens of daggers being unsheathed filled his ears like lightning. The feast table flipped over, and he could see blood on the floors.
His vision returned to him over time, yet he was pushed to the ground before he could notice what was happening. It was not a foe who pushed him though; it was one of his loyal guards. When he looked up, he saw one of the members of the Elder Council slash at the guard with a dagger. It was too small to do any real damage, and the soldier replied quickly by slitting his throat.
All around him he saw food flying, and the members of the Elder Council attacking anyone in sight. Three guards surrounded the Emperor, while the rest of the men in the feast were on their own. Fat Lord Orwell was gutted right over the table, his stomach wide open. Others lived longer, taking the fight to the enemy. Althalos was unsure what was going on. The Council's betrayed me.
"Get the Emperor out of here!" one of his guards shouted, and two of them helped him up and rushed him away. He heard the large gates close before he was in another corridor, a hallway that led to his room. Althalos' head was pounding. First Amaund Motierre, now the whole Council?
He remembered the door opening, and the men stopping dead in their tracks. He looked up to see the High Chancellor looking at each of them, a crossbow in his hands. Althalos no longer needed his man's helped, and rubbed his eyes slightly. The soldiers drew their swords but did not move.
"This was not the plan…you…you were supposed to drink…" Urandil began.
"Silence!" Althalos shouted, "It seems I put my trust in the wrong person. Why, Chancellor?"
Urandil then stopped stuttering, and stood straight. "The Dragonborn is one of the few people who can make this land a better place. And with what is truly coming, the realm needs him."
"What's coming?" Althalos asked.
"I've said too much." Urandil replied, "Just know this: Your being here is a danger I could not risk. We all wanted the Dragonborn on the throne, as soon as we learned of his survival."
Althalos frowned.
"I truly am sorry, my lord. You are not a bad man, no matter what those who despise you would believe. You are only misunderstood. But above all else, you're a complication. The Empire needs men like the Dragonborn, and you are only hindering its survival."
Althalos said nothing; instead his soldiers rushed forward as Urandil aimed his crossbow. One of them met a quarrel to the neck, while the other managed to unsheathe his sword, but by that time another quarrel was at his throat as well. Althalos was already running though, and he knocked the crossbow out of Urandil's hand. The man tried to flee anywhere, but Althalos had already grasped his neck.
He crushed the man's throat as he would a deer or an elk if they were close enough. Yet even during this he felt sour, empty on the inside. Urandil had said himself that Althalos was not a bad man, yet if that was the case, why did so many betray him?
Yay, action! Hope it was satisfactory! But seriously, you guys didn't think i would kill Althalos, did you? NONSENSE! you know i only kill the good guys.
JK, but anyways, hope you enjoyed. Been a while since an Althalos POV, and i thought i would change things up a bit. I can confirm that you will see more in the future, so if you liked him (or hated him) then good luck.
just in case any of you forget, i updated last night. So don't forget to read the Valor chapter if you haven't! actually, about that...
I would like to know your opinions on Valor, our gracious Dragonborn. I have received quite a decent amount of love for him, but also HATRED! What is your opinion on his character, and do you like him or not? I am interested in seeing your answers.
REVIEW!