The King smashed his weighty staff on the stone floor, sending an explosive noise about the throne room. Candles and torches flickered. Outside the castle, ravens took flight.
“Aaurgh,” he bellowed, to no one in particular. For months the rumours of war have haunted him. The neighbouring kingdoms have pounded the drums of war, and the smoke rising from the fires in the enemy encampments filled the king’s hairy nostrils.
“I shall not be forced to endure this. I will demand they disarm.” His eyes grew steely, and his brows lowered. His gut wrenched. Then again.
The latest provocation was from a longtime foe. Has it really been years that they have hated one another? And here he was, within my walled city. Knocking down the homes of my people, toppling my knights in rapid succession.
“Now let them see what an angry king shall do!”
“This means war!! Level the forests to build more rams!” He frantically gave orders to his generals.
“Mine enemies will feel my fury once again. Get me my longsword, ho!” Blood pounded in his ears. Old wounds burned anew. He lifted his arms toward the heavens.
“Mighty Zeus. Put aside your jealousy of this humble king, and grant me victory. Let my sword slice out the bowels of…”
As if on command, there was more rumbling in the distance, then a moment of silence mixed with stench.
“Good heavens Lester! Did you fill your pull-ups again?” Mom lifted the sovereign from his throne room.
“Oh my. Look at this mess. When we get back, you and Roy are picking up those blocks.” The king’s anger subsided.