In the war room of the Pelican Palace King Tonzi and Lord Wilkes hold counsel.
LW – Riders have returned from the south with grave tidings. The wildlings beyond the wall led by King Jamos the Bogstandard have constructed a massive solar farm with which to power their armies.
KT – Pfftt! Tis’ a piddling threat Wilkes! Does Jamos seek to attack us with a farm? Does he mean to harvest us to death? Will he load this “sol-ar” fruit into his catapults as the French did with their cabbages at the siege of Belmondo? Will he rain down leafy hell on our farmers markets? Nay Wilkes! Jamos is a pissant. A fool to himself and a burden to others. We should not trouble ourselves with his witchcraft!
LW – Ah sire, perhaps I should explain a solar farm has nought to do with fruit, it is a highly sustainable, best practice, environmentally friendly means of harnessing the power of the sun’s rays to produce a reliable green energy source.
KT – I care not a toss if Jamos sets his “sol-ar” fruit ablaze before attacking us! The sphere that sustains us will repel any attack as it always has.
LW – Once again sire I cannot stress enough, fruit is not the issue here. But if I may digress … your mention of the holy sphere gives rise to an issue of concern that has troubled me of late. As your magnificence is aware the sphere that sustains us only protects the palace and the area ten leagues around it. I fear in the event of an attack of any sort the outlanders would be horribly exposed!
KT – Worry not about the outlanders Wilkes for they are a stout-hearted and resilient breed. Years of travelling over broken potholed roads and flooded causeways have built in them a toughness unmatched by any in the kingdom. They thrive on adversity, it is what drives them and we in the kingdom should take no small measure of pride knowing that the hardship we inflict on them maketh them the fierce independent folk they are!
LW – Even so my liege, I wondered that given the pilgrims were plentiful over the summer season and our treasuries are bursting at the seams, if it might be politically prudent to make a grant to the outlanders so they may strengthen their defences.
KT – Ah Wilkes the outlanders have no use for coin of the realm. They are a simple folk. Trinkets are what brings a gleam to their eye. You know of what I speak! Tip vouchers, annual cobblestone cleanups, a festival or two! It is these things that are the quickest way to an outlander’s heart.
LW – True sire but as history has shown us a dagger through the rib cage is often the quickest way to a ruler’s heart. It will take more than trinkets this time I fear.
KT – Hmmm…perhaps we could appease them with a slaughterhouse or two?
LW – A slaughterhouse is out of the question sire, the leaf-eating oracles of the Circle of Witta would forbid it! However, as we speak a bold plan forms within me. The charging plates we purchased for the abortive electric catapult trial have sat in storage for years. What if our blacksmiths were to fashion them into grills? We could gift them to the outlanders. The power contained in these plates could roast a beast where it stood in the field in a matter of minutes and the heat generated from them would singe off the hide and vapourise the offal leaving nought but succulent well-cooked beef. Then we could build a festival around. Perhaps call it the Outland Carcass and Ale Festival— From the Paddock to the Feast— Gorge in or Take Away! Oh, sire, I can see it now!
KT – Brilliant, Wilkes, brilliant! Consider thyself promoted to Pope! But I fear all this talk of war and beef has stirred my blood. Send for the swordmaster, I wish to test my arm!
LW – Alas sire the swordmaster was caught dueling in an area of the castle not designated as “off-sheath”. He then compounded the crime by failing to dispose of his opponents remains in one of the biodegradable body sacks provided by the kingdom for this purpose. This act of treasonous non-compliance has earned him a month in the stocks.
KT – Very well I will meditate instead. Bring me another jar of flies and some fresh tweezers!
LW – As you wish your excellence.
Dedicated to Sir Trevor and the Ancient Kings of the Five Lakes
