“You must be pleased, Lord, to know that you are so well protected. It must help you to sleep well at night.” Before imbibing, the general considered the white wine in the superb fluted glass set before him, savoring the bouquet while admiring the color.
“The guard is a window dressing, Peregriff. Stalwart men and women in shiny uniforms to awe the people. I have never relied on them to protect me.”
The general looked surprised. “But Lord, you said—”
“I said what I did for their benefit. It’s hard to motivate those who serve if you tell them that ultimately even the potential sacrifice of their lives means nothing.” Enjoying the sun that struck his face through the helmet, he gazed out across his realm, at ease if not content. “Oh, they are fine for making minor arrests and for dealing with undistinguished miscreants like that deserter or ordinary assassins. But anyone or anything powerful enough to seriously threaten me would toss them aside like straw.” He sipped at his own drink. “Still, they look fine on parade.”
The general considered carefully before commenting. “So you still feel that the Worm’s warning was inaccurate, and that those whose coming he predicted will not reach Ehl-Larimar? Or is it that you do not believe the necromantic powers it spoke of are strong enough to pose a threat?”
“Pose a threat? There is no threat, Peregriff. It doesn’t matter if the Worm’s prophecy proves to be correct or not.” He gestured diffidently. “You may pass the order to the navy to relax their alert. The household guard may stand down, and the instructions that were given to the border patrols to be on the alert for any unusual group of travelers seeking to enter the country are to be withdrawn.”