Ambrose I - All that glitters

“All that glitters is gold.” That is perhaps one of the greatest lessons Ambrose had learnt in his studies; it was 379, two years since the death of his father. Two years after he had been passed the title of lord. It still felt raw, heavy, and painful all at once, though it also felt elevating; for once, he could determine his future, and the future he had planned would be a great one. Though for now his ambition would have to be put aside.

Today was an important day; his son Damon was to start squiring for Darion Blackwood. His wife had talked him into that one, and despite the stories he had heard, he had agreed to it. Believing that perhaps Damon could do the experience. Though now that he saw him, Darion, his mind flashed with doubt. He was massive, incredibly well built like a bull. Though perhaps the most frightening part was the lack of noise, he had the appearance of a bull and yet moved like an owl in flight. Ambrose was by no means short, though even he had to bend his neck back to look at Dorion. Benedict had done all that he could to prepare Damon for this, though even his skill would’ve paled in comparison to the monster now before them.

Even as Damon prepared to leave, his father said nothing, for he was deep within his mind. Planning the next move in his grand ambition, planning for the last 2 years, that is all that he had done. There was never time for family, only time to consult and plan his way forward. He had spent for time with foreign merchants in these last two years than with his own family. Damon didn’t hate him for it, or perhaps he did? He believed it whenever his father said, “I need more time; once I’m done, we’ll have all the time in the world.”

It was thus that even as Damon rode from the gates of Maidenpool, all Ambrose did was wave his son off. Then he returned to Crone’s Bastion, where there was more to review and more to consult; in the end, his son would return stronger and the better for it. However, there was only one chance to push this plan forward. 

He returned to his study, and his brother Clement was already there waiting for him with a goblet of wine in hand.

“Damon’s left, I take it?”

Ambrose nods as he sits by his desk, which is filled with documents containing all kinds of facts and figures.

“You could at least pretend that you cared. He is your son, and he just left with someone that could be more aptly described as something.”

Ambrose shoots his brother a cold glance. “I do care, that is why I agreed to this. He needs this, and at least he’ll be with someone related to him.”

“Does he need this? Or do you need this?”

“Explain.”

“You give him something, and in exchange, he stops bothering you. Allowing you to focus more on your plan.”

“You name my son a distraction? Perhaps you are right in some sense, though I do stand by the fact that he does need this.”

“Perhaps he does indeed, though he might have preferred if his father had shown a bit more care.”

“He’ll understand when he gets older.” Ambrose looks at Clement’s goblet and then at his brother. 

“What?”

“Must you drink? Before you know it, you’ll end up like father.”

“Unlike father, I am capable of controlling myself.”

“No, unlike Father, I am capable of controlling you.”

“Let's move on. What is your plan anyway? You’ve yet to tell me.”

Ambrose rolls his eyes. “Perhaps there was a reason for that. And perhaps you should go and do your job, I have left several important proposals in your study. Make use of your expertise, I expect them to be done within the moon.”

Clement rolls his eyes in response, “Very well, my lord.” Clement bows and leaves.

Finally, some peace and quiet, he had not known that for some time, but finally, he had room to think. He ponders the last two years and what he has done. And what was still to be done.