"The delegation from Unbeton is on approach, Sire!"
The cruel and mighty King Bielshaaser smiled upon his golden throne. His kingdom he had inherited from his father and grandfather, and they all had ground up all kingdoms in their way, ruthlessly stripping them of all that they and their kingdom, Griid, desired. Natural resources, wealth, business, the bodies and souls of men -- Griid by its power had done what it would to all those in its path.
Unbeton was next, the next kingdom who was to be swallowed up. King Bielshasser had been merely surprised that the little kingdom had sent a delegation offering peace -- as if little Unbeton was master of the situation. This had intrigued the king, and so he had sent back word that he would receive the delegation.
On they came, Unbeton's ambassador for the occasion and her eight attendants. She was an old woman by all appearances, stooped with age although walking well on her ironwood staff. Her attendants were laden with fine gifts: gold and jewels and precious spices. All these things but quickened the king's desire to possess the entire kingdom of Unbeton. He openly laughed when he heard what the ambassador -- Justiss by name -- had to say.
"Greetings, Your Majesty, from Her Majesty the Queen-Steward of Unbeton. In her name and the name of Unbeton I present Your Majesty with these precious gifts and the show of goodwill that accompanies them, in the hopes that there will be peace between our peoples, and that Griid do itself no harm in attacking a nation that has as of yet offered it no harm."
His Majesty, I have said, laughed openly. And scornfully, to the point of hurting his ribs.
"Who are you, old woman, and where have you been, all your life? Do you not know that I am Bielshasser, heir of kings of kings and now the King of Kings?"
Ambassador Justiss looked back calmly.
"Your Majesty, I own you many things, but King of Kings we own you not in Unbeton, nor shall we ever."
The court gasped.
"Nonetheless, our offer to His Majesty is good. We do not presume to tell Gridd how it should perform its affairs, but we of this delegation make full show of the intents of Unbeton. We desire peace, and so far as it lies with us, we shall have it."
King Bielshasser became angry.
"Get out, old bag! Go and prepare your grave -- and that of your nation and queen-steward!"
The ambassador motioned with her staff, and the gifts were put down before the king's throne. Then they turned in unison to march out, but the king's quick and greedy eye caught a flash of something glittering green in the back of the ambassador's robes.
"Seize her!"
The king's guards did so, with rough and violent hands. The ambassador did not resist, and her attendants did not move.
"Bring that that jewel here, with the chain it sits on!"
And so the chain was snapped, and the green jewel stolen from the ambassador's belt.
"We bring you gifts and that does not suffice you," she said in a calm, clear voice. "So be it, Your Majesty. You, and your kingdom, must be what they are, to the end."
"What end!" the king howled as he rippped the twine from the little hole bored in the large green gem -- twine, mind you, not even gold -- and closed the gem in his hand. "There shall be no end of Griid -- to the ends of the earth, and to the moon, and all the worlds! I am King of Kings and heir to kings of kings and father of kings of kings! All shall be mine!"
Then he looked at the delegation in his rage.
"Throw them out -- but roughly!"
So they were beaten, and slapped, and kicked, before being set upon the road home. They did not resist, and at the end, the eight attendants carried the ambassador all the way to Unbeton.
The news preceded the delegation home: Griid had fallen. In a single week, a pestilence had destroyed the king, his family, his court, and his capital city -- all of it had to be burned to save the rest of the populace, and the kingdom was falling apart as the survivors of conquered nations declared their independence.
In her capital city, old Queen-Steward Justiss smiled as her attendants carried her to the royal infirmary for further treatment.
"King of a few kings, perhaps, but not of a queen, and her prepared hollow jewel with the twine that broke the pestilence's seal when ripped out. I warned him peace would be better..."
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