"Zular here tells me that you were plotting to kill me!" bellowed the King, a slightly overweight man somewhere in his 50s, without preamble. "Is that true?" Lord Fred finally wrenched himself free of the inhumanly huge guards and glared knives at the smug 18-year-old Duke standing to the left of the monarch. "He was in on the plan too--in fact, he was going to kill you himself, tonight!" Duke Zular looked shocked, and placed a long white-gloved hand over his chest in mock injury. "Your MAJESTY, please! Do you honestly think I would do such a thing?!" The King glared at Fred. "It's his word against yours...and he outranks you. What to do, what to do..." The Duke smirked. "Be merciful, Sire, I beg of you. Do not have this wandering servant who was once so loyal to your august personage killed--rather, just throw him in the dungeon." The King thoughtfully stroked his long grey-streaked brown beard. "Agreed." "But wait!" yelled Fred. "You can't just lock me up without a--" CLANG! the metal door shut behind Fred. "...trial..." he muttered weakly to the walls. Well. Of course Duke Zular would take this opportunity to betray the conspiracy--now he's the King's left-hand man, and in a position of far more power than he had before, without the risk and mess of an assassination. I should have seen it coming, muses Lord Fred miserably. But it appears that maybe b
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3/7/1999 8:06:08 PM
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