The death of a king

This is a scene that is part of something bigger. In theory it is the start of it, and thinking about all the mistakes writers do (so many blogs on this topic!), making it the beginning makes sense, to paraphrase the advice many have said, ‘start with the action… not describing a person’s day’.

So here is a scene where the passing on stability leads into what to do next?

Just to help make it make sense, the title ‘Utwelda’, roughly translates to King of Kings. It is meant to symbolise the unifying person who have had oaths of loyalty to from the different kingdoms of man.

As always, hope you enjoy and please share any comments.

—The Death of a King—

The clouds gathered around the tops of the mountains, slowly they marched down the slopping sides. An old saying is ‘a battle will come to end when one side has lost their troops’. It is not a very good saying, but as no one is able to show any reason why it is not true, it has stuck around. However, it is the battle with the weather that came to the mind of the dying Utwelda. He has seen armies rise, troops come at him with sword, axe and hammer with all failing. He was still there, breathing. Just. 

Around him stood the myriad of people he had known for many years. Some were his close true friends, some were his council from the Kingdoms who advised him and others were those waiting to see who would respond but also felt a sense of duty to be there. The chill in the room was held a bay with the layers of animal furs helping to keep the Utwelda warm. By his side where his children and wife. His wife, who had long brown hair tied behind her, sat holding his hand. Her clothes were made of browns and yellows showing her modest side that had been with her all her life, all except for her necklace. This was a gift form her husband and the bright colours stood out as it hung in the air from her neck. With each breath the Utwelda took she held his hand, remembering how he had united the human Kingdom, but still had time to teach their children to ride a horse, drive a cart and wield the weapon of their choice.

They would never be able to marry someone who might be Utwelda, a blessing and a curse of being their fathers children, but one that had stopped any one family taking control of the Kingdoms of men should they be united. A decision their husbands took to not allow power to be within on family. But they were ready, they had been brought up to be in a world without their father should he have fallen in battle. But now, he was slipping away on a cold night to age. 

The clouds, like the true enemy to life, continued its march down the hills. She was on her way. Death was always seen as a women, they bring life into the world, it should only stand to reason that they should be the ones to collect life when it has run its course. Men, end life early, often in battle but it is often seen as man’s duty to protect life but in doing so, often seen to end it before She can come to collect her children.

As the Utwelda managed to open his eyes he could see his wife and children there with those behind a blur. Those closest to him smiling and holding back tears. He had lived a long life. The goblin horde had been kept at bay when the winter pass opened across the sea. He held his wife’s hand, and with just his eyes managed to say how much he loved her, how proud he was to be able to be her husband and how happy he was to be there with her through it all. 

To others he was the Utwelda, but to his wife, he was hers, no title was needed nor did a title change how they were with each other. Equal partners together. Slowly, she bent down and whispered into his eye, ‘You have one rule remember’.

The Utwelda coughed and the sign of yet more blood was quickly whipped away by the First Chamber Guard. Ever faithful soldiers who swore protection to the crown. They had stood watch for their King, and stayed when he was crowned Utwelda. They knew they would soon perform their last vigil together and it would be an honour so few had seen. How often do kings survive to see Her come to collect him? But those thoughts were for another day, another time.

‘Your one rule, in all of this’, the Queen continued to whisper just light enough so only he could hear. ‘You were not to die on me’.

The silence of the room broke as the Utwelda began to laugh, his body heaved with all the energy he had left. His smile came bright as so many had seen before. He looked at his wife in the eye and, unable to speak, gripped her hand. 

Later She came to take the Utwelda away. The room filed out slowly as the physician checked for any final signs of life. Soon only the family and the Chamber Guard remained. Outside those who had been called to prepare to look after his body for the funeral waited for the family to leave.

However, for those who filed out to share the news of his passing, to begin each Kingdoms remembrance traditions, thoughts about who would, or who could, replace the Utwelda rose quickly. Some considering if one would even be needed if the period of peace within the Kingdoms of men was secure.