Of Kings and Beggars
Imperial candidate Dlucanen, more commonly known as Gaius Dulucanus Aquilon by the Roman people and Senators, peaked through the red satin curtains towards the amphitheatre. Already, people were taking their seats, togas of various colours mingling with others as people bustled by, their cornucopias filled with enough splendours to satisfy a belly for the night. There were still a few empty seats in the amphitheatre, for it was meant to hold a great audience. The night was lit like the day with thousands of torches positioned wisely across the amphitheatre, for all must gaze upon the glory of the Emperors-to-be. Soon, all the important citizens of the Roman Empire will come to the famous Vespasian Amphitheatre to hear what the Imperial candidates have to say.
Dlucanen gazed at the crowd for a while, wondering how many of them would gossip more about his dreams and promises than those of his rivals. He stepped back from the curtains and let his eyes wander the backstage, where the other Imperial candidates were practicing their speeches. He couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying, but he knew well that what they said would be full of great expectations and uncertain hopes, just as he too would give.
There were six of them in all, including Dlucanen, six people from different provinces of the Roman Empire who all want to become the 14th Emperor. In the beginning, the economic system of the Empire was Command Economy, in which the Emperors would rule until age took them and then his/her descendant took the throne. But the times changed for the new Romans. Ever since Emperor Porteus, the 9th Roman Emperor, implemented Command Democracy as the reigning economic system of the Empire, every legitimate Senator has fought one another with words and influence to gain more votes from the people. Some of them often wished that slaves would also be allowed to cast votes, since, the more slaves were at your disposal, the more votes you gain. But seeing that the cons of voting slaves outweigh the pros, the Senate would not allow such unfairness and corruption in the system. Not only that, this was not a Democracy like in ancient Athens. This was Command Democracy, where slaves are not Romans, and only Romans can vote.
Dlucanen was somewhat glad that slaves could not vote – many of his rivals had more slaves than he – yet he held great pity and sadness to the slaves. Many of them were kind and generous folk once you understand them. Not all of them should be treated like vermin. He knew the sufferings that all slaves have felt through the years. Dlucanen may wear the purple toga of Rome, with sandals on his feet and a well-trimmed beard, but his painful history, his strong, powerful features, and his purpose would always mark him as a Briton. And Britons, as everyone had heard, were the most abused of all other classes of slaves.
His deep thoughts resurfaced to reality as the murmurs of thousands resonated in the back stage. Dlucanen peaked again through the curtains and saw a greater audience amassing. He turned back to the backstage just as a small, burly man in a much too short toga scurried towards him.
“O Dulucanus,” said Sirius Telonicus Parado, Dlucanen’s chief advisor, “How fair you?”
“Please, my friend.” Dlucanen said. “Have I not told you to call me by my true name?”
“In the eyes of the people, in which I must see the world from, you are Gaius Dulucanus Aquilon, my lord.”
“And as your lord, and as your friend, you must name me Dlucanen.”
Sirius chuckled. “Only if you lose this candidacy, my lord, will I call you by your Briton tongue. But in this aye night, and so as you become our new Emperor, you will be the Roman all will hail upon.”
“Well then, I must hope to lose.”
“You better not, you bastard. It was hard enough for a Briton such as yourself to gain favour with some of the important ones in the run. Are you aware of the amount of tablets carved to show your better status? The number of gossipers we hired to spread the word of your exploits, goals, and glory? The guards we had to pay daily to protect you from, what all politicians say, an ‘accident’? We and everyone else have spent our blood and sweat to get your grace in a favourable position, neck-to-neck with Cornelius Harkonas.”
Both men glanced at one of the Imperial candidates momentarily: a thin, bold man looking regal and formal in his purple toga, his face a serious mask. Dlucanen both feared and despised Cornelius Harkonas. He reminded him of the cruel slave masters and brutal soldiers he had witnessed all across the Empire. One of the main reasons why he entered the candidacy was so that monsters like Harkonas won’t govern a regime that’s doing well for itself already.
Of course, one of the advantages of having a Command Democracy, or simply a Democracy, was that tyrannical Emperors could only rule for six years until another election would crown a new – hopefully benevolent – Emperor to repair the damage dealt by his/her predecessor. That was the case unless the Emperor declared martial law, then he or she can rule undisputed for as long as the martial law still stands. That was also the case with the 12th Emperor Constantine when an opportunity for a longer rule arose with a rebellion in Gaul and Iberia. He crushed the rebels with his legions enforced by martial law, a campaign and a regime that lasted three years longer than his limited Emperorship. But with his wit and his connections in the proper places, he extended his rule even longer by telling everyone in Rome that there were still a few hidden rebels out there. His reign lasted for 15 years until the Senate saw the lie, dethroned Constantine, and implemented a new law: in which, should an Emperor enforce martial law on a province/provinces or the Empire as a whole, then a Senatus Militia (military Senator), representing the concerns of the Senate and people of Rome, must oversee the progress of the martial law and inform the Senate whether the Emperor, if the campaign was accomplished, can keep his/her title or, if the campaign was a means to extend Imperial rule, should be cast out.
Yet, even with a law that limits martial rule, an Emperor could still have a long reign. And monsters like Cornelius Harkonas can commit all manners of crimes that no one would punish him for. He would be the judge, jury, executioner, and justice system when he becomes the next Roman Emperor.
Dlucanen simply could not let the people kneel before him.
He turned back to Sirius. “Fear not, Sirius. We will win our laurels.”
Just as he placed a comforting hand on Sirius’ shoulder, Dlucanen saw a shadow move behind his chief advisor, a shadow that grew closer, taking the form of an attractive and fiercesome woman.
Sirius sensed a person behind, and whirled to see the woman. “Evening, Serena”, he said with scorn.
“A good-bye to you, too, Sirius.” She mocked playfully.
Dlucanen stood between them just as Sirius retorted about how Serena’s mother is just as ghastly as a self-rated, twice in debted whor-
“Calm, my friends.” he said. “Is this not a time for a joyous reunion?”
“When was it a time for joy when she and her friends nearly robbed us?” asked Sirius.
“Foremost,” Serena began, “because of how unexpectedly skilled in combat Dlucanen here was, you kept your gold. Then, when you needed me the most to deal with a few spies and assassins that were out to ruin you, I helped. You’re happy and not deceased thanks to me.”
“And in return, you found a new joy by messing me about.” Sirius stated.
“It is not my doing that you are as temperamental as Mars, with a mix of Vulcan’s charms and looks.”
“Enough.” Dlucanen ordered.
The two went quiet.
Dlucanen looked at Serena. “What brings you here?”
“Checking and watching.”
“On?”
“On your enemies and on you. You are aware that almost everyone here shall try to humiliate or ‘accidentally’ kill you, correct?”
“Yes.”
“This will be their last chance to destroy you. These Senators will do whatever it takes to ensure that they win their laurels. I’ve heard stories of how a few Imperial candidates at this moment in the run got distracted by a sudden rally, loud commotion, and a few familiar faces they abhorred. Not only that, some of them had a few too many fans that wanted to stick knives and arrows at them.”
“Yes, yes, Serena, I am aware of this. I trust, of course, that you shall protect me?”
“Worry not, my men are stationed where I believe to be the attack spots against you.” She nodded her head to the audience as if they all worked for her.
Sirius was not reassured. “Are your certain that your men will do their jobs well? They are not elite bodyguards.”
“No, they are not. They are thieves, criminals, con artists, and assassins who know how to take care of things smoothly and quietly.” She paused for a moment, and gave Dlucanen a serious expression. “But still, take care of your moves. I’m not the only underworld lord out there working for other politicians. I am, however, the only one generous and ever-so motherly enough to work for a fellow like you.”
“I thank you, Serena.” Dlucanen praised.
“Motherly, eh?” Sirius inquired. “You know something else about moth-“
“Sirius…” Dlucaned warned.
He kept quiet.
Serena looked at Dlucanen with concern. “Are you certain you do not want my men to interfere with the others? I assure you, not only do you need protection, but you must also strike your enemies as well.”
Dlucanen shook his head. “No, Serena. If I am to be a noble Emperor, then I must fight fair.”
“Some of the greats never fought fair.”
“In battle, perhaps. But this is about winning the people, and the people, publically and privately, must see me as a fair ruler. If I live my life the way men like Cornelius does, then what is the purpose of my being?”
“Your heart will get you killed.”
“My heart is what makes me live.”
Sirius studied them for a moment, then peaked through the curtains. “The speaker is ready to appear.” He looked at Dlucanen. “And so must you.”
“Then I must be off.” said Serena. “Take care, Dlucanen.”
“Take care to you, Serena.”
She disappeared in the shadows.
Sirius looked at Dlucanen. “Prepared, my lord?”
“Indeed.”
They waited, as did the rest of the Imperial candidates.
As the speaker positioned himself in the middle of the stage, the Imperial candidates in the back stage positioned themselves where they would address the crowd. As the speaker spoke his introductions, the Imperial candidates rehearsed their speeches one last time. And as the speaker was done and left the stage, the curtains opened wide to reveal the six Senators, all wanting to become the next Emperor.
They smiled and waved. The audience applauded. Then the speeches began.
The first to say was Senator Huevos Y Manolo, representing Iberia. He had a funny looking face, especially with his curled up moustache, but his speech was quite serious and formal in degree. He talked all about a better economy, a well-fed populace, the few funds needed for a great expedition force to explore farther East, a flourishing agricultural business needed in his homeland, and donations for temples and shrines to the gods. He gave his first point first, then went to the small but significant specifics on each major point he made. He presented it quite well, his voice, although tinged with his native accent, was loud and clear. He stood tall and strong, his eyes gazing at everyone. But he was not so strict in his talk, but smooth, formal, and friendly. After he was done, the crowd clapped their approval. Huevos Y Manolo finished it without any interferences.
The second to say was Senator Nabadi, representing Numidia. His points were somewhat similar to those of Huevos’, except that he plans on promoting a grand tourist attraction in his homeland for all to admire, ensure safe travels across the Empire, and, shockingly, allow other religions, besides Roman, to be practiced. Many of the things that he stated sounded ridiculous, but no one could be sure with Nabadi’s black, motionless, and stiff face. Although no one really cared much about that, since his whole speech was monotonous and faint, restraining the back audience to barely comprehend his words. By the time he was done, one-third of the audience clapped, the other one-third stared at him blankly, and the remainder was fast asleep.
The third and fourth to say, Senator Bavarus (Bavarix in his home) of Gaul and Senator Pentalian of Asia Minor, were, by far, the only ones to be attacked by the audience. As soon as Bavarus began to speak, there was a mighty brawl between bystanders that was slowly spreading until the guards quieted everyone down. But the damage was done. Senator Bavarus, having been too distracted by the fight, suddenly forgot what he should say, and using bad improvisation, made a speech that either offended the crowd or bored them even more. As for Senator Pentalian, his good traits and leadership skills were cut off by an arrow to the head.
The fifth to say was Senator Cornelius Harkonas, representing Italia itself. With long years of political experience and practice, he owned the very amphitheatre and its vast audience. His words were knives that cut deep into the minds of the masses. His dreams were certainties that could possibly come true. His personality, woven with lies that all conceived of as truths, touched the people’s hearts. By the time he was done, the crowd applauded in music only heard in the circus.
Next was Dlucanen, representing Britannia.
He knew his speech, the speech meticulously prepared and written by the best, a speech, he knew, was full of all the things he wanted for the Empire, all the truths.
But it was not enough, he knew. It lacked too much.
“Romans, country men, lend me your ears.” He said. “As you should know, even though I am Briton by blood and by body, I am, and always shall be, a Roman by soul, by heart, and by you.”
Small claps and a few nods of approval.
“You all wonder why it must be I that should be your Holy Emperor. I shall say this soon, but first, heed my story.”
He began to tell them of his history, how he was born in a small village in Britannia called Surana. He told them how he had longed to explore the world, and when he got older, he travelled all across the Empire. He met many wonders and horrors where ever he went, and then, when he saw that the horrors outmatched the wonders, he decided to help give glory to the Empire. He practiced law in the Roman universities, earned a degree in economics, and slowly, through wit and will, became a Senator.
“And here I am now.” He said. “Living the dream, going higher than I never knew possible. You’ve all heard of the things I have done before and after my political time, the donations given to architectural builds, agricultural research, weapons programs, those sorts of ventures. You’ve heard and witnessed the acts done to become the man I am, dealing with crime, helping the provinces, treating slaves more humanely. You’ve heard many truths, rumours, and perhaps a few small lies about my actions and myself. But I tell you now, and I tell you this. I may be a Briton by blood and by body, but what I have done, and what I will do, even if I am Emperor or not, will not be Roman, nor Briton, not even Gaulish or Iberian or something. It will be by soul and by man, united and strong. What I have done, and what I will do for this Empire, and for you, will be done not by Romans or Britons or other races, but by us, all of us, the people of this world. I will do as you tell me, so long as you do what you say is right.”
He continued on, telling all of his skills, his dreams, his mission. Often times, he would see strange movements, like fleeting shadows, in isolated areas of the amphitheatre, but he, and the audience, paid no heed. Even as a few of Serena’s men dispatched would-be assassins and distractions, the crowd listened intently at the brilliance at what Dlucanen was proposing.
Then, there was silence.
Dlucanen stood proudly, his gaze fixed at the people. He wondered if he did it, if any of them did it. He pondered whether he should have stuck to the original plan, let alone speak no nonsense, think no nonsense. He thought he had lost. Yet defeat did not show as he stood there in the visage of a gleaming, marble statue. An old druid in Surana once told him that it is better to die on your feet, than to live on your knees. And so, Dlucanen believed, I shall go down standing.
Then, a person clapped.
It was a slow, faint clap, but it was enough. The one clap was joined by another, and another, and another. It multiplied by ones, tens, hundreds, thousands. Simple cheers turned into an uproar. The sound of clapping hands burst into thunder. The pebble soon became an avalanche. It was, as the tablets and gossipers would say to everyone, a spectacle as great as the Circus Maximus.
The applauds slowly died when the five remaining Imperial candidates left the stage.
Four days later, Sirius had received the voting results and was informing the staff, Serena, and Dlucanen what’s what.
“Peace, everyone, peace.” He ordered the hyper and excited staff members. “Alright, here it is. Huevos Y Manolo has at least 37,182 votes….. Nabadi got 20,019 votes….. Bavarus, 13,763 votes…. Pentalian, deceased, no votes…..”
He paused, his face grim. “Cornelius Harkonas has 46,621 votes.”
Everyone tensed.
Sirius continued. “And Dulucanus….” He stared, and a wide grin broke on his face. “O Dulucanus, you’ve won the run! You have 48,142 votes in total! You are the Emperor!”
Everyone cheered, hugged, praised. Dlucanen accepted the hand-shakes and back-slaps with joy and gratitude. Soon, a celebration party was underway as the staff drank wine and ate fine meals in honour of the 14th Emperor. The party moved elsewhere as Dlucanen paraded all over Rome, giving thanks to his voters and co-workers, greeting the Senators and other politicians, seeing the capital of the Empire in the eyes of its new ruler. He gave another great speech to the masses, promising them all a better future.
For a month, Emperor Dulucanus, still named as Dlucanen by his friends, had wandered all over the provinces of the Empire, letting its people meet and greet their new Emperor. He made his rounds in Germania, Asia Minor, the Northern regions of Africa, Iberia, and then Gaul, always accompanied by Sirius Telonius Parado and his legal agents, Serena and her finest, criminal assets, and four of the best Roman legions. He gave moving, motivational speeches, and in the end of his visits, the people of each province would bid him farewell in their native customes. In all this time, Dlucanen was elated by the people, the sights, the culture, the food, the life. It was a marvel that he was the Emperor who governed all the wonders he had seen in every visit.
But what excited him the most was his trip to Britannia.
First, he went to Londinium and did the usual tasks done many times in many places. Then, after a few stops in neighbouring towns and villages, he finally reached his home, Surana.
Surana was a very small village with a very small population. Located in a tiny valley between two great hills, almost unnoticeable unless you know where it is, Surana had 43 citizens in it. There were three leaders, five bakers, two blacksmiths, four carpenters, eight farmers, a druid, and the other 20 or so people were just common folks who often help the working residents. All of them greeted Dlucanen home. All of them, and because none were slaves, said that they voted for him.
Except one.
Dlucanen was surprised to hear who didn’t vote for him, and went to his cave by the hill side to talk to him. The druid Gwilloc was busy drinking some mystic soup when Dlucanen appeared before the cave entrance.
Gwilloc gave his old pupil a warm smile. “Dlucanen, welcome home.” He motioned him to enter. “Come in, take a seat, have some mushrooms.”
Dlucanen entered and made himself comfortable on the floor. “It is good to see you, my master.”
“As the world sees it, it should be I that must call you master, and you to refer me as ‘my fellow man’.”
“It would seem so.”
“But I won’t.”
Dlucanen looked at the druid intently in hidden shock. “Why, my master, did you not wish me to become the Emperor? Are you not glad that I have achieved so much?”
Gwilloc inhaled deeply in thought. “It is not that I did not vote for you, or others for that matter. If this is what makes you happy, then I must be glad. But I am still disappointed at what has become. I simply did not want a beggar for my king.”
“I understand not.”
“Have you lost sight, boy?” Gwilloc was surprised. “What ever happened to the young lad I have taken care of after his parents perished by the plague? Has the Roman rule, the Roman luxuries, and the Roman heart blinded you from their ‘Command Democracy’?”
“What of it?”
“Tell me as much as you know of this ‘Command Democracy’.”
Dlucanen contemplated for a while. “Well, to understand Command Democracy, you must understand the two economic systems derived from this idea. Democracy, which was founded in Athens, Greece, long ago, is a system of government by the whole population or all the eligible members of a state, typically through elected representatives. Meaning to say that the people, including the slaves, although in Democracy there are none, choose their leaders, and the leaders must try the best of their ability to meet the unlimited needs of an ever-growing populace. It is a system where the people themselves have the power, and the individuals representing the people are given such power only for the benefit of the community. It is a simple relationship between, for example, a dog and its fleas, where, in this instance, the fleas and the dog are helping each other.
“As for Command Economy, it is not the same with Democracy. It is an economy in which production, investment, prices, and incomes are determined centrally by a government. For example, in the beginning of Rome, it was a Command Economy, and whatever the production was long ago, how much it costs, how it is done, for whom does it go to, was solely determined by the Senate. The common people had no say in the matter, especially the slaves. Whatever the Emperor and the Senate had to say, the people had to follow. The people – and this is the most important difference between Command Economy and Democracy – could not choose their Senators and their Emperors. The title of leader was passed down by inheritance, and the people, including the slaves, for the slaves were the prime working force to sustain a Command Economy, must live with the rule of the next heirs, whether the heirs are benevolent or cruel.
“And the combination of the two, Command Economy and Democracy to create Command Democracy, was that the people could choose their leaders as their representatives, except for the slaves. Emperor Porteus, originally, tried to make the Empire absolutely Democratic, but it never succeeded due to the debates and protests of many high-ranking Romans against the freedom of slaves. So, still wanting to give his people, all of them, the freedom he believed they deserve, established Command Democracy. Even though the slaves could not vote for who shall represent them, they at least have the freedom to live under the rule on one Emperor for six years than a lifetime, which was what many slaves, as you know, did not want.”
Dlucanen looked at the druid Gwilloc. “Well, my master? What say you?”
“I say that, from what you have given, and what others have given about Command Democracy, is that, even if it is more humane than Command, but less so than Democracy, it is like all others.”
“And what may that be?”
“Flawed.”
Dlucanen was taken aback. “What speak of you?”
“As you have said, this Democracy gives power to the people, and then Command Economy gives it to the leaders. And the union of the two is that power is given to the people and the leaders, correct?”
“Not necessarily. In Democracy, the leaders still have the power, but the people can take that power away, while in Command Economy, the leaders have the absolute power over their people. The important characteristics about Command Democracy is that it is like Democracy, but with slaves.”
“Good.”
Dlucanen looked at him in shock. “You are glad that there are slaves? Master, you once told me that all should live freely.”
“For the former, I am glad that not everyone in the world is choosing their leaders blindly. As for the latter, I once told you to live life as free as you can, not free as you are. You know well that freedom can be easily taken as it is easily given.”
“But I do not understand.”
“Then lend me your ears, my boy. Do you know what kings are? They are the rulers, yes, much like your Emperors or your Senators. They protect their people from attacks within and without the community. They govern the people in teaching them the proper roles they all play for the survival and sustainable joy of the community. And above all else, they must remain strong and superior above all others, yet must treat all others as friends instead of servants. I see no king in front of me, nor anywhere in the high seats of Rome.”
“Master!”
“It is truth, my boy! Look at your system, now and back then. In Command, your kings did not earn their titles by trial and proving as it should have been. Instead, they were born kings, something that only the great and the lucky have taken from others in an unjust time. And now, you replace it all with something just as chaotic as before! Your ‘Imperial candidates’, men and women of yet another position in which they have gained by deceit and by luck again, are nothing but beggars. Every day, they carve their pleas in stone and give it to everyone ‘eligible’ to be, what you people call it, Roman. And when the masses, all blind and ignorant of proper judgement and true choosing, decide who their king will be, they choose the one whose words were the loudest.
“It is strange, yes, but that is how it is. Some of us want a leader to guide us, others want to guide themselves. Many are blind to the truth and gladly follow the lies, knowing full-well what they follow, yet caring nonetheless, while the few who are truly aware and want to change are beaten down by the power of the corrupt masses and leaders.”
Gwilloc looked at Dlucanen, questioning, wondering, daring. “Tell me, ‘Emperor’, do you accept this? That this is what it all should be? Must it be so?”
Dlucanen was silent for a long while. “If this is as it is, then it must be so.” And he looked at his master intently, his eyes longing for answers. “But if not, then tell me what, my master. Everyone knows how you were an advisor for a great king long ago. You know the ways of leadership better than I, or perhaps anyone in the Empire. You taught me once these ways, teach me again. Please, I promise you that I can become the king you so yearn to see rule. There will be many trials in the six years of my reign. Please, my master, be there by my side as we make a better future, all for one, and one for all.”
Gwilloc laughed in bitter sadness. “You have lost sight, my boy. We live in a world of kings and beggars indeed. I wanted to see a king today, and instead you come here as a beggar.”
Silence.
Nothing but empty, cold, bitter silence.
Then Gwilloc spoke again, this time with compassion and gratitude. “But I am proud of you, Dlucanen. Disappointed, perhaps, that you are among the beggars, but proud at you being a beggar who at least helps others. If being the Emperor is what you feel is right, then I will not argue at your choice. You of all people should realize that such decisions are not allowed lightly. So, in the hopes that you discover for yourself what it is to be a king, I shall tell you this. But first, do you recall one of my lessons once spoken by King Mortimer the 2nd before he was beheaded by his rival? And why?”
“ ‘Tis better to die on thy feet, than to live on thyne knees.’ He said this in defiance when he was given a choice to serve or to die.“
Gwilloc nodded. “Good. When you face your enemies with your blade or your word, remember to give Death a hard time taking you.”
Dlucanen rose. “Then this is farewell, master.”
Gwilloc rose with him and shook his hands. “It is farewell indeed, my boy. Perhaps, one day, when you are truly ready, I will be there to help.”
With his last words said, the Emperor left the druid’s home and returned to his own.
As tradition demanded, the augurs came before the Emperor to predict his future. As they have all said, he would rule wisely and strongly. The Empire would prosper under his care. There would be little opposition against him. He will have many happy children from his newly wedded wife, Corina Aquilon, a beautiful, wonderful woman whom he married four months after his coronation. All of it was good news, joyous news, predictable news.
Except for one.
It came not from an augur, but a young man. It was late in the evening when the messenger informed the Emperor of a young man who wanted to see him.
Five minutes later, the young man introduced himself to the Emperor. “Ave, Dulucanus.” The young man said. “My name is Tacur, an apprentice to Gwilloc the druid.”
The Emperor was surprised. “And what does Gwilloc demand?”
“That after he had died, I would be here to give you his last regards.”
Dlucanen processed Tacur’s words in slow dread. “Gwilloc is no more?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Dlucanen could not believe it, or even bear the thought for long. “You say you have a message from him. What may it be?”
“To tell you that you are ready for assistance.”
Dlucanen blinked in confusion. “I do not understand.”
“Then lend me your ears, O Dulucanus.”
Tacur told him all about himself first, how he had studied with Gwilloc of the ways of advisorship to many leaders, and then when he had mastered the arts, he went to many universities in the Empire, some of the best, to further hone his advising skills until-
“-I could be your personal advisor, O Dulucanus.”
“Why must it be so? Why now?”
“Well, my lord, the augurs may tell you that your future will be a good one, like what so many of those charlatans have told to many others such as yourself. In truth, O Dulucanus, you will face many trials in six years like rebellions, political betrayals, bankruptcy, weather and climate problems, foreign invasions, food shortages…”
“To the point, please.”
“Yes, my lord. Anyway, what I wish to say is that I want to help you. Not to solve all the dilemmas, but to help you solve those problems on your own. I want to show you how to become the Emperor that will, now satisfy the needs of his people, but give them what they truly need in order to become a sustainable but happy economy. I want to help change Command Democracy a bit, as you have proposed in many of your speeches, so that the masses can be as educated and right as the gods demand them to be. I want what my master, and yours as well, wanted for all of us: a better future. In short, I’m here to say that Gwilloc, hearing about all the things you’ve done so far as the Emperor and what you plan to do, is willing to help you in any way I can, although I myself have another reason all together.”
“And what may that be, Tacur?”
Tacur smiled. “I simply do not want my king to be a beggar.”