A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

He'd assumed – likely wrongly – that the trial would have been an easy affair, given the evidence in his favour. But he hadn't accounted for the politicking. No matter how long he spent in the noble courts, he would likely never be able to keep up with such politicking. He still didn't understand quite why they moved so strongly against him.

He knew it was because of his 'father', because Dominus Patrick had been so strongly disliked… but was he disliked to this degree? What had been done to Dominus that they feared retaliation from his son so strongly? And just who was it that feared it? Who were these enemies?

It was likely the High King… That was the feeling that Oliver held in his heart. No one had said it to him explicitly, but given that Dominus himself had proclaimed numerous times, and what the people here seemed to be inferring, it could be no other… but still, the question remained, why? And was it really the High King that sent those assassins after Oliver?

If he was to assume it was the High King, then how did he stand any chance at all of winning this trial? No matter what, the highest authority in the country was that one man. Even Asabel's testimony would pale in comparison. He was a weak house in the colosseum with giants. No one had any reason to risk that position to save him from his fate. Not even Asabel.

She spoke up regardless. "I wish to speak now, not of the trial and the crimes that Oliver Patrick was convicted of, but what I believe him to be capable of."

Lancelot did a good job of keeping a neutral expression as he stood next to his Lady, a few steps lower down on the stand, but it was quite clear that he too had no idea what was going on.
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"He has sworn himself to Lord Blackwell," Asabel continued. "A Great General, by all accounts. He is holding strong against Verna to the east, as one would expect him to. He's a pillar of this Kingdom and a good, loyal man to boot – I have had the privilege of meeting with him on numerous occasions, and he has always shown himself to be kind. I see that his men love and respect him.

Today, I fear that I might be going against such a man with my announcement."

That brought murmurs of surprise from the nobles in the crowd. Now that Oliver knew who to look out for, he eyed Lord Idris, and saw his raised eyebrow, and he eyed Lord Blackthorn – a family not too distantly related to the Blackwells – and saw something of a grimace there, as the name of a rival was brought up.

"My father has long been telling me to build a faction, and to do so properly. I have put off such duties, for fear of making the wrong choice.

I've done what was expected of me, in choosing my retainers, but I have not declared myself in any sort of political realm, knowing that I could leave my choosing until my eighteenth birthday," Asabel said, still speaking gently, yet there was a faint trace of nervousness mixed in with her voice, as well as a firmness, as though she was grasping for something.

Whatever she was getting at, Lancelot seemed to finally get it too, for he stiffened beside her, and looked up with widened, alarmed eyes. His mouth parted ever so slightly, as if to protest, but it was a testament to the strength of the young man's character that he did not. Even seeing such a reaction in Lancelot, he was far and away from understanding anything himself.

"As my father's eldest daughter in a family of only girls, it is my burden, as well as my duty, to one day inherit the mantle of the Pendragon house, just as my father inherited it from my uncle all those years ago.

I must make the choices that I feel to be right for my rule, regardless of what ire I know it will invite from my father, and from even the High King himself," Asabel continued, her speech speeding up, as she seemed to realize all the consequences of her decision.

"From this day forth, the Asabel Pendragon faction shall lay its claim to my inheritance. In accordance with the old laws, and the new, I lay claim to the Quarter Lands, and the Quarter Title that has been due to me since birth, and until the day that my father abdicates his position, and leaves the rest of our family lands to me," Asabel continued. "It is not a decision that I make lightly.

I do not fracture the Pendragon house willingly. I am aware of the strife that will ripple through the Kingdom to see the Pendragon house divided, but I can no longer turn my eyes away from that which I believe to be right. Today my hand is forced, and action must be taken."

The nobles were reaching a fervour pitch. Another branch of royalty, declared right here, in the Hall of Ministers, on the very day that they had expected the death of the last of the Patricks, there came this!

An event of the most blasphemous sort. A tradition that was outlawed in everything but name. The tradition of the Quarter Inheritance. Just as her own father had done, when he believed his brother Arthur to be pursuing the wrong path, she laid claim to a quarter of all that the Pendragons owned, giving rise to a Pendragon Branch beneath the first, but not subordinate to it.

An entity that could grow of its own accord, and usurp the Main House, should it ever acquire the power to do so.

It was expected of royalty – and nobility at that – that when they came of age, they would form a faction of their own. That was intended for political purposes, so that they could be centres of power within their own right, and have their own proper positions at court, in order to assist the current head of their houses. Such a thing was done quietly, without Quarter Inheriting.