The Brotherhood of Merlin Boxset by Rory D Nelson

Author:Rory D Nelson [Nelson, Rory D]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: orks, chivalry, and, table, Wolf, merlin, wolves, swords, round, knights, sorcery, morgana
ISBN: 9781483568362
Publisher: Self-Published
Published: 2019-10-26T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12: Pretentious Puffery

Like many members of the one hundred council members that served in the legislative body In Lycenea, Herod was arrogant, pretentious and demanded an engraved invitation to the festivals and holidays in Lycenea. Because of the distance between council members, several couriers were sent out over two weeks before the festival to ensure that all members received their engraved invitations. The role of a congressman was an enviable position, and much esteemed in Lycenea. Council members were not paid for their public office, but the power they wielded was substantial. Many members, Herod included, were already among the wealthy and did not need or desire to be paid.

Many felt the council members were overly-spoiled and the honor that was bestowed on them was done merely to placate their sensitive egos, and thus, the engraved invitation was naturally a source of angst for them. They felt they were unnecessary and a waste of precious resources. The Brethren were among those, but such concessions had to be made.

The invitation was printed on taupe parchment paper with a dark maroon, raised, Italic lettering favored by the upper borgeouis, the cost not inconsequential. Even King Menelaeus shunned such puffery.

Herod held the invitation in his hand and rose from his throne, looking at Morgana contemplatively, the devilish grin slowly widening in anticipation of the opportunity. Morgana smiled back. “The Festival of Hammaden affords us a great opportunity, Herod for cozening the boy.”

“It is as you say?”

Morgana smiles conspiringly. “Set watch and warrant it so. Maximus feels threatened by the boy. We can conspire to access the boy via chagrined classmate.”

“You believe the boy can be turned? To conspire against fellow recruit?” asks Herod.

“Maximus is deeply conflicted and power-driven. If we paint a portrait of a single path to kingship, he may betray one of his own. You know this. Has it not happened before? Even if you were recruited, would you not have turned on one of your own?”

Herod walks around in a circle, seemingly contemplating all the possibilities. “To have a puppet prince at my disposal.”

“You would have the world in your grasp.”

Herod turns to Dalton, one of his manservants. “Dalton, summon my son.”

“Ai,” says Dalton.

Several minutes later, the doors open and Caius walks in, staggering slightly, still shaking off the vestiges of drunkenness and lasciviousness the night before. His clothes are wrinkled, and his eyes are puffy and bloodshot.

Herod frowns. “Caius, find useful purpose and deliver my acceptance to the festival. But not before you clean yourself up and revisit dignity.” He pauses. “If you aspire to wear my name, that is.”

“Ai, my Lord.”

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