When
I sat down to write, I fully intended to formulate a general
description of how an absolute ruler assumes sovereignty. That will come next. Instead, below are my musings on what the next one might
be like, how his vision might come to him, and how he might fulfill it.
Forgive the overwrought prose at the beginning and the dry martial
conjecture at the end.
Kingdoms
stretch across the expanse of the written word. The mythos of ascendant
kings sparked life into the most prolific, enduring, and beautiful of
the literary traditions. If you care to uncover the origins of a golden
era of storytelling, you will almost always find the good rule of a good
ruler at its heart—and lamentation of the loss of another at its end.
In
worlds real and made real in art, of days past and yet to come, the
kingdom stands as a transcendent monument to its people, land, and
rulers. Their names and stories weave threads of order, harmony, and
glory into the tapestry of mankind’s eternal ascent toward perfection.
The kingdoms of the tapestry serve well to inspire the creation myth of
the next. I’m curious as to how those first few lines will read.
I
won’t venture a guess as to the next king’s origins, but they will be
humble compared to his destination. Perhaps his family is wealthy, and
his access to the finer things stokes the flames of incessant desire
within him; or his family is poor, and his escapes to other worlds sever
his ambitions from reality; or else his upbringing is hideously
mundane, bearing no burden but granting no purpose, sending him on a
frantic search for a way to right the wrongs around him until, having
nowhere else to look, he finally turns inward.
No matter what, he will have grander visions than most.
Somewhere
along the way, he will come to realize something about his innermost
drives. To do so, he’ll have to be of sharp mind and sound body. The
latter, I believe, is of certain importance; for his visions to take
physical shape, he will need some understanding of himself with respect
to his surroundings.
Finally, he
will need to be naturally intuitive and prone to reflect. It will take a
great effort of both to admit what he knows to be true. If it were easy
for a man in solitude to say, “I should be King,” our past would be
much more violent than it already was. I suspect this will be the most
difficult part of the process; the conclusions which follow, such as the
extent to which he will grasp—of course, as far as he can reach—will do
so easily. The rest is a matter of his natural abilities and luck.
Committed
to his goals, he will make a plan. The level of detail will depend on
his distance from the decisive action: Declaration of sovereignty and
establishment of secure borders. In turn, that distance will be
determined by the land within his borders as well as a great many number
of other things. Taking the other factors into account, I figure his
map sketch will undergo at least a few revisions. However, the time
between drawing the first and the decisive action will converge on long
enough to give himself time to change his mind, but short enough to sate
his desire to act.
Regardless of
the plan, one of the constants will be soldiers, and the constant among
those is those he can know—roughly 150 is the natural number, any
significant difference arrived at with due caution. Among these “happy
few,” there will be his closest friends, then his commanders, and then
his most capable fighters. He could secure his kingdom with these alone,
however small, but he would never make the attempt without a single one
of them. His closest friends, known for their kindred spirits and
time-tested commitment to purpose, will steel his resolve on the road
ahead. His commanders, known for their tactical skill and unending
pursuit of victory, will see the plan through. His most capable
fighters, known for their bravery and love of battle, will personally
ensure the outcome at the decisive points of combat.
He
must make himself and his intentions understood as fully as possible to
them. What this entails, I cannot possibly guess, and he can only hope
as to the result.
Those he can
know will follow his lead, but if he deems it necessary to gather an
army beyond them, he must understand his impersonal nature to them and
take all risks and limitations involved into account.
Prior
to but near the decisive action, he will select an emergency successor
among his closest friends and let it be known to all whom he knows.
Should succession occur, necessary or not, what follows will be a
testament to his kingdom’s inevitable victory or defeat.
On
the day of declaration of sovereignty, he will officially inform the
neighboring state or states. He should have strong insight into likely
enemy courses of action and prepare accordingly. No matter what military
response comes, or whether it comes at all, his martial skill will have
already been put to the first test; there’s only so much to be
determined afterward.
The defense
plan should detail a series of discrete cessions of land into a new set
of readily defensible borders. Every cession should be done so
grudgingly, but as necessary.
Of
course, the outcome of the plan and what will need to be done toward its
completion cannot be known in advance. There will always be risks
involved; he’ll have to decide which to incur, which to mitigate, and
which to allow pause.
If borders
are successfully established, their security will be far from certain at
first. Ensuring as much will be his first actions as king. From there,
the lines of possibility diverge. Perhaps later I’ll consider some
likely scenarios and what they might look like, and I’ll present them if
I think they’re of any value.
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