THE KING AND THE BARGAINER

Part Two: A Secret Bargain Offered

Seated there on my throne I endured through a few more abjectly dull sessions with some truly loathsome subjects. All the while growing giddier and more pleased by the minute with every goblet of wine downed.

The more it flowed, the less I cared about the passage of time spent among such disgusting company as my own unworthy peasantry. Yes, I had decreed I would listen to every word of every petition from every miserable wretch, but not sober. Nothing could compel me to go through this every week without the solace of intoxication to fortify my resolve, or at the very least make these things slightly more tolerable. By this decree, I have created my own miserable yoke of Royal and personal obligation.

Finally, unable to bear any more words of tedium, I decided a light distraction was required. Ordering my personal minstrels in, I bade them play soft instrumental music in a far corner.

I also compelled my royal perfumer to continually spread exotically pleasing scents around the receiving room to cover the uncouth smells of my poverty-stricken subjects whom seemed to lack respect for bathing too often. To be close to one's subjects is also to be close to the foul things in life. Dirt, mud, manure both animal and human, and the worst, badly cooked peasant cuisine. The odor of all of these things were shuffled around and in close proximity to my person on such days. It should be a crime to appear in front of a King doused in such unpleasantly offensive scents, yet unavoidable if these Sunday sessions are to continue.

Through the machinations of my perfumer, the scent of rot became cinnamon, manure to jasmine, and foul sweat into rose. Wonderful! A true wizard of his odorous craft. I'd be miserable without him.

During these sessions, I've often been personally tempted to order some of these complainers forcefully bathed before their audience so I wouldn't have to subject myself to the bluntly uncouth smells of abject poverty, but having my Royal Perfumer present during these times makes this measure completely unneeded after all. Between my Royal Swatter, my Perfumer, and my bottomless cup of wine, it made if not a pleasant duty, at least a drunkenly tolerable one. At the very fringes of being an almost civilized affair.

This event helps to keep my subjects fairly pacified as well, since all have a direct voice to their beloved King, even if only half-listened to, and sometimes even less than that.

"Sire, this is the Bargainer" announced the entry guard. No one was obligated to give their real name, this is part of my decree, though most of them choose to. Even the lowliest peasants seem to possess a crumb of personal pride, as wretched as their lives are under my unique rule. They are pleased that their Lord knows their name, so they freely give their names, but are not obligated to.

So whomever this creature was, he was being a bit shrewd in proclaiming himself as 'the Bargainer'. I can respect caution and shrewdness, especially towards the most powerful being in the lands, my esteemed self.

I nodded for this Bargainer to be sent in directly. Certainly this could prove a welcome diversion from the gossipy tripe that I normally had to suffer through. As another drink was poured for me, I straightened my posture, as to present a more kingly demeanor to my next two-minute guest. A King should exude regality and elegance, even when as deep in the spirits as I was.

He strutted in, a bone-thin young man dressed smartly. Sporting a maroon minstrels hat with a long red feather, everything he wore was red, including his hair, beard, and boots. It all seemed fitting, this was no mere peasant. Even as tipsy as I was, I could see this.

As I gulped my wine, he spoke first. "Happy Petitioners day Your Excellency, I am known as the Bargainer, as your guard has already informed you, and I am indeed here to offer a bargain for both of us. One you will find both tempting and delectable"