Justice may be blind, but she can smell fear!
~Me -- AmberFox
Power, they often think, is wearing a crown and giving the orders. They were wrong. Power is taking responsibility and knowing that one person made the rules that encapsulated all their welfare.
Numbers beyond the safe ability to count were favourable when it was money, but not so when it was people bearing pitchforks and torches. When the people prospered, those in power prospered. Alas, when the people were oppressed, those in power prospered more. It was easy to oppress. Harder to push for the overall success of the population.
Out of such simple ingredients, the bubbling stew of revolution could easily boil over. In such conditions, the unexpected saviour could rise to power. Of such saviours, the siren song of power could cause corruption. A rightwise heir and a wizard advisor, for example, rising to reign after years of ill fate.
Of such glamorous cloth, thought the Lords of the land, a new reign of peculation could carry on so long as the people believed in the glamorous child King. Having a beautiful wife also helped their cause.
They did not expect the regency to hold an investigation, nor having that investigation be made of armed people fully capable of dragging the Lord in question before the throne.
"You swore an oath of fealty to your king," said the young man, barely old enough to spring a beard. "Yet you continue to keep serfs and wring every last copper out of the people under your care. You were told by my order to cease such practices. Are you loyal to me or are you loyal to your purse?"
There was only one answer, "I am loyal to my King, of course, sire."
"Good," said the King. "Then you will have no problem at all with my ruling. Starting with... your entire treasury is to be emptied and evenly distributed amongst all those capable of answering to their name and greeting one in kind. All serfs in your realm are now freemen. You, my Lord, are to abdicate your position and leave the administration of your realm to your wife and sons. You will be living as one of the lowest under your own rules until such time as the savings from your change in lifestyle have paid for your debt owed to the realm."
Lord Tarrent knew better than to complain that such was not fair. The alternative was a treason trial held open to the judgement of the public followed shortly by a beheading to the cheers of the many.
Truly, the most dangerous thing was a King willing to uphold his oath to maintain justice throughout the land.
Living as a commoner couldn't be too bad. Commoners did it every day. It was certainly better than the alternative.
As he left under armed guard, he could see Lord Valewrath under similar guard. He had evidently put up a fight, and only the King's mercy meant that he was there alive. Valewrath might opt for a fast execution rather than slow suffering under the yoke of peasantry.
In two years, Tarrent would have to wonder if Valewrath had made the better choice. Life under the yoke of service to the lord was not as easy as he had previously assumed.
The King never had trouble with money-grubbing Lords under his administration for the many years of his reign.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / borat]
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