Author Topic: In Which Galiard Performs a Friendly Takeover and Receives Intelligence  (Read 1289 times)

Scarlett

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THE FRIENDLY TAKEOVER OF ZARIMEL. VILLAGE SQUARE. MID-MORNING.

"You see," explained Galiard Scarlett to the bewildered-looking farmer, "you needn't fear the oppressive hand of, uhm..." He glanced searchingly over his shoulder at his lieutenant, Ser Ulwitt Dodd.

"Bears," Dodd suggested helpfully.

"Of bears," agreeed Galiard, "And also brigands. You can return to work, and not only do YOU not starve, but your neighbors in Anacan don't starve. It's genius!"

Francis the Farmer studied the King skeptically. "I'm confused," he admitted. "So you're telling me that I'm free ... from us?"

"Precisely," said the King, "The oppressive yoke of yourselves, and also bears, is gone. Freedom to once again serve your King has returned!"

Francis narrowed his eyes. "Now you just wait here, Sirrah, we wuz content laying about the place until we ran of biscuits, and now may-haps we're ready for a change, but I don't know what a yoke is and I don't appreciate m'lud-ship bamboozling muh neighbors with his high-noble speak."

Galiard's hand instinctively drifted toward his Dagger of Uppity Peasant Disembowling but he forced a wide smile on his face. "My sincere apologies," he said insincerely, "Pray forgive my vocabulary: the 'yoke' is the part of the machine that keeps you down. It's a metaphor, you see, because oxen are yoked to the cart."

"And you," Farmer Francis replied suspiciously, "are removing this yoke, so we won't be hitched to the cart?"

"That's right," said Galiard.

"...and you're not just going to yoke us to your cart," Francis gesticulated cart-yoking, possibly for the benefit of Dodd, who had long since ceased to follow the philosophy of the conversation.

"Absolutely not!" Galiard declared. "I have underlings to do that for me. If they mistreat you, you may complain ineffectually to your sheriff, who will complain to the lord, who will complain to the Duke, who will probably not complain within earshot of his King if he knows what's good for him."

The naming of the half-dozen nobles who would listen ineffectually to his complaint had clearly convinced Farmer Francis. "Well I'm sold," he beamed with a grin that was missing most of its teeth.

---------

Percy the Manservant arrived with a stack of letters. Dodd plucked one off the top and began painfully sounding out its contents to Galiard, who rested in his tent while his men explained to Francis' neighbors the virtues of things like bridges and agriculture, both of which had been lost to the denizens of Zarimel for over two weeks.

"Our local spies report some fracas from one of the visiting Ohnarians," announed Ulwitt Dodd.

Galiard arched an eyebrow. "Ohnarians and their fracas," he shrugged his shoulders. "Anything noteworthy?"

"One of their nobles - we're not certain which one - apparently quartered himself with his men in a basement," Dodd observed mildly.

Galiard frowned. "Anacan is very large," he noted, "surely there were better quarters than a basement available?"

Dodd shrugged. "Perhaps it reminded him of home," he suggested. "Apparently the neighbors complained of shouting."

"And why," Galiard asked, "is the King of Cathay hearing about a noble from six hundred miles away shouting in an basement in Anacan?"

"Ser Ohnar is apparently upset over some betrayal by the Cathayans," Dodd explained as he read. "And the, ah, lies and deceit from which this realm was made."

Galiard looked at Dodd blankly. "Cathay was made from the conquest of the Antozan Commonwealth. By Us. Well, really by Ser TNaismith, but we stood behind him and urged him to charge very valiantly."

"And did so ourselves," Dodd scowled at his liege lord. "He shouted a bit more - something about how we're not Old Cathayans."

"Find this man and promote him to Duke," Galiard said wistfully. "I shouldn't mind having someone about who thinks I'm not old enough. How old was the fellow doing the shouting?"

Dodd shrugged. "The spy didn't get a proper look at him, but he appeared to be in his thirties."

"Ah," said Galiard solemnly. "Very old indeed."