A History of the Mortimers

    As a matter of principle, the first Mortimers made it their business to remain apart from the worldly affairs.  They lived a harsh struggling existence in the wilderness and high alpine meadows to the west of the kingdom of Arathor.  Among the few holdouts that still professed loyalty only to themselves, the Mortimers were scavanger hunters as far back as any could remember.   However, in the shameless and  inhumane time preceeding the March Lords, Duke Ranulph de Mortimer, a lord of the west quietly made preparations to betray his fellow countrymen by pledging his allegiance to ruling nobles.   None were spared in the aftermath which ensued.  Nothing could stem the avalanche as the other clan’s troops entered conquered and summarily executed many of the  families of the western region leaving only the starved, the hopeless and those willing to follow the resolve of the great kingdom. 

    Ranulph and his five older brothers proved to be quite successful in their dominion over the outer western region.  Belarius the eldest gained control of the lands to the north while Ranulph and the other four coördinated  efforts from Abbeye de Mortimer in the lands to the  south.  In the year 996 Ranulph and his brothers were granted the title of March Lords,   the keepers of order in the  borderlands.   They were geographically compact and jurisdictionally separate from the other nobels, and they had special privileges which separated them from the usual lords.   March lords could build castles, a jealously guarded and easily revoked Royal privilege in Arathor. March lords administered laws, established markets in town, and maintained their own chanceries that kept their records.   They had their own deputies, or sheriffs. Sitting in their own courts they had jurisdiction upon the confines of their land over all cases at law. 

     In the years to come Ranulph would find his wealth dwindle as the loyalty of  the region waned.  His health seemed inextricably  tied to his failed dealings with both his brothers and the political unrest which seemed to flicker unendingly in all the dark places of the world.   To his son, Thomas Mortimer would pass his lands and title while is other son, Edmond had been intended for clerical or monastic life, and had been sent away to study.  Frequently Thomas would accompany his father and his uncles in the affairs of the west in  both military campaigns and matters of state.  He was groomed to be the preeminent voice of his fathers lands, seated on the council of Owdain a true champion of the highest order.  Unfortunately due to what some would say was poor judgement on his fathers part, Thomas died alone upon the border defending what he believed to be a just and noble cause. 

     Edmond Leon Mortimer was soon called upon take his brother’s place in the echelons of the March Lords.  This suited Edmond for he never took to clerical study and in fact resented some of its teachings.  As reality unfolded he found that he would never be much more than a name, never allowed to operate outside the boundaries of his father’s dictates.  Edmond’s hazy memory of those times consisted of bloodied confrontations and horrific events.  His father once standing by his side watching Edmond attempting to purify his tainted sword hit him furiously across the face splaying him to the earth and simply declared, “The blood stays on the blade.”    By the age of 22 Edmond operated solely from the only town of Lisor with his own troop, patrolling the few local villages.  He made his best attempts to be diplomatic in his dealings with farmers and townsfolk, but more often than not, his first lieutenants, more under the guidance of his father would aggravate a situation making further bloodshed unavoidable. 

     These years on patrol in the outer regions were the hardest on Edmond.  With the passing days he seemed to wither away, retreating into himself, losing ground to the wilderness and to the men who clung furiously on the edges of it’s dark cloak.  Some things in life are better left unopened and this was Edmonds belief upon reading an anonymous letter  sent to him on the anniversary of his brothers death.  The contents are not known, but whatever it revealed, Edmond immediately resigned his position and rode to the Abbey de Mortimer alone presumably to speak with his father.  Upon that day, Edmond disappeared into infamy.   His father whose health had failed him  completely, never spoke of him again.  He  wilted away as did the  late spring flowers, consumed by his past and the shadowy halls of his guilt.

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