“It is not caution that eases my concern, Peregriff.” Stepping away from window and wall, the autarchic ruler of Ehl-Larimar approached the doorway. “It is confidence.” A mailed hand rose and gestured. The fingers were thicker and blunter than those of any normal individual. “Come, and let us review the troops before they grow bored.”
Those servants who were not forewarned of the approach of the Possessed in time to scurry out of the way were compelled to stop whatever they happened to be doing at that moment and prostrate themselves before him. Hymneth considered himself a kind master, full of forbearance, a trait that he felt he displayed on numerous occasions. This morning was no exception.
When two serving maids engaged in animated conversation failed to notice his approach and continued to gab between themselves, the Possessed put a finger to the lower rim of his helmet and commanded Peregriff to silence. Advancing silently, he stole up behind the two before one of them noticed, or felt, a presence. Turning, she saw who it was and let out a heart-rending scream before fainting dead away. Instinctively, her friend caught her, or she too might have swooned with fear.
Hymneth found this vastly amusing. Reaching out and down, he tousled the hair of the unconscious servitor. “Get her some wine,” he ordered the other woman. “When she awakes, tell her that I am not displeased. After all, fainting may be accounted a kind of bowing.”
“Y-y-yes, Lord.” Utterly terrified by her proximity to the looming, guttural figure, the other woman tried to curtsey and support her friend at the same time, with the result that both went down in a heap. This caused Hymneth to burst out laughing, a sound that many of his retainers found more dismaying than his explosive fits of anger.