Overnight, Juldania was changed forever. For the people of the Lenoran Union mobilized, and they were not to be stopped. Bernard had pulled the strings, played in the shadows, and gotten his own hands dirty; a little of every approach, selectively chosen for each situation as only an experienced master of manipulation could do. Now the machine was in motion, and all First Citizen Bernard had to do, relatively speaking, was to sit and watch.

Peter’s propaganda ministry did an amazing job of spreading Bernard’s words far and wide, and it was almost like watching dominos fall, as city and town after city and town either officially joined the Lenoran Union or watched its people up and leave. The speed with which the change happened was mind-boggling.

Although Peter and Bernard had once pretended to be ex-missionaries, in a way each member of the Lenoran Union had taken up that mantle for themselves, and passionately told of their changed lives, their better conditions, and the families that had been restored. At the same time, they warned a weary and beaten-down populace of the tyranny of the crown, the lack of morals and complicity in the most heinous and disturbing of crimes.

Finally, people had been given hope, and they were eager for it. The borders of the Lenoran Union quickly stretched to cover nearly all of the oceanic ports on the eastern side of Juldania – including Khartok.

Bernard, for his part, was as amazed as everyone else how quickly things were changing. In order for the new, larger Lenoran Union to be sustainable, he decided it was best to establish a hierarchy of leaders in each sub-region, made up of those who had been loyal to him for a long while, and who knew the right way to handle problems.

The First Citizen had much to do to ensure that the services and promises that his people were promising were not compromised by the huge inrushes of new citizens, and had to find a way to scale his government in record time while keeping an eye on the ever-more-concerned Juldanian noble class and royal family. However, he also took time to tour the new cities, to be seen and to encourage others, congratulating them on their bold decisions and helping to keep their fires burning hot.

It was on one such tour stop that he found himself arriving in Khartok – it was more than a little surreal for him to reflect on his journey so far. He examined the dock where he had been exiled, and even took a minute to walk its planks again. He entered the justice hall, and looked around so intensely and fiercely that it caused concern for those who were with him.

Of course, they had no idea of his true past, or even that he had stepped foot in this place once before. Instead, they took Bernard’s interest to mean that he liked the place, and they asked him if he intended to establish the seat of power here?

“No, no.” Bernard replied. “We will never forget who we are, or where we came from. This is a city built by corruption and misery, one that beat down its people and served an unjust regime. What better home can there be for us than Lenoran, where it all began? Lenoran is the symbol of what we can do when we work together. I will not abandon it.”

His words, once again, made his people swell with passion and pride. This was a man they were happy to stand behind, one whom they were privileged to follow.

However, all was not well. The royal army appeared outside the gates of Khartok, with a simple message – surrender, or die. It was clear, of course, that the choice was really “die now, or surrender and then be killed as an example,” so it wasn’t really a choice at all.

Sometimes a word, a thought, or a feeling, though, can be more powerful than even a king’s army. And so it was in Juldania. Throughout the country, people were embracing the Lenoran Union’s message, and even asking publicly for Bernard to be put in charge of everything.

The soldiers were no exception. Many came from poor homes or communities, and even more had seen the indifference that the noble class showed to the masses, or the atrocities committed in the name of the royal family. When the sun rose in the morning of the second day of the siege of Khartok, empty tents were discovered all about the field. At least thirty percent of the soldiers had fled, including the watchmen.

It was too much for the commanders to bear – there was no way that they could hope to take the city with such a reduced force, especially when the chances were high that the men who abandoned their posts would now be fighting for the opposition. They were forced to withdraw.

During the long march back to the capital, many officers were lost; men loyal to the crown, killed by their own men. Back in the royal city, members of the ruling cabinet were being deposed, or going missing, or worse. Those with the power and money to flee began to leave, and those without began to fear.

The crown could not stand. The situation was becoming desperate.

With each passing day, the strength of the Lenoran Union grew, and Bernard became more confident that he had achieved all he had set out to do. Peter, however, saw it differently. Yes, Bernard was delivering on his promises, but Peter was too nervous to face the final confrontation. Was it really worth the risk?

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Bernard had learned his lesson, and Peter had virtually no ability to access any of the funds he would need to escape on his own. Even if he decided to kill Bernard, there were simply too many eyes on the ledgers and coffers for Peter to get to the money himself.

He was forced to make an appeal to Bernard, to attempt to convince him one final time. That night, Peter asked Bernard to come to his quarters, which he had set in one of buildings overlooking the water. It reminded him of home a little, not to mention it felt luxurious to Peter.

By getting Bernard to come to him, not only could they be away from anyone who might listen in, but it gave Peter a bit of an advantage in the discussion (or so he hoped), by virtue of playing the host instead of the guest.

“Listen to me, Bernard. You’ve won! You’ve gotten the security, and the power. You’re second only to the king, and your people adore you. Why not stop here? We can work with the crown, the way Marknosans did. If we pay our taxes, show some obsequiousness to the king, they’ll enter into a truce. They have no choice! Both sides have too much to lose by continuing to escalate!

“Besides – neither of us was ever really in this to set up a whole country. It’s too much risk. If we reach out, we could have contracts established in no time. We’ll tell the people we’ve won, the king will get what he wants, and we’ll have money coming in forever. What more could we want?”

Bernard studied Peter carefully; it wasn’t that he was surprised this discussion was happening now, it was that he knew how it was going to end. The two men had been through so much together…Bernard still hesitated. Perhaps for the first time ever, he didn’t want to make what he knew was the smart choice, the choice that eliminated risk.

“Peter, my friend. If we allow the king to rule over us, even if it is only in name, he will crush us, the very first chance he gets. We’ll have moles and spies, political intrigue, back-door deals and betrayals. All the things that make enemies, and that lead only to certain doom.

Bernard walked closer, and put his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Don’t you see, we can’t stop now! This is the riskiest position we could be in. We are a legitimate threat, and he will not let us be. I know this, and I believe you do too. We have to press on.”

Peter laughed bitterly, as both men stared out the window. “You’ve learned too much from me, Bernard. Your words have become so honeyed. But it worked for Richard and the Marknosan family. They had power, and could have been seen as a threat.

“Within the borders of their territory, though, they had nearly absolute power. They could do anything. Rich, and powerful – we’d both have what we want. Richard had it, Bernard…we can have it too, without going to war.”

As Peter spoke, Bernard slipped his other hand into his pocket, where he withdrew a dagger he had hidden earlier. “I understand. There is a difference between you and Richard, though, and it’s important one. You…”

Bernard’s pause was punctuated by the sound of Peter gasping as the blade entered his back. “You aren’t cold-blooded enough to be Richard. He wouldn’t have hesitated to do this to me.”

Peter fell to the ground in silence, but his eyes grew wide as he faced Bernard and the light began to dim. Bernard watched the man until his eyes closed, and then got to work.

He pulled the dead man’s tongue out, and cut it off with the dagger. Then he took a small pouch full of coins and stuffed it into his mouth, then left the body.

Once outside, Bernard took a walk around, making his way towards the rocky outcroppings and low cliffs that were near the docks. It was the last walk he would ever take alone, although he couldn’t possibly have known that. Reaching his destination, he took the dagger and threw it into the sea.

The following morning, Peter did not show, and while there was some concern, there was also plenty of good-natured joking about how he had probably drank late into the night celebrating their success. It wasn’t until the evening, when he still hadn’t been spotted, that someone got concerned enough to go check on him, and his body was found.

It was clear, of course, that whoever had killed Peter had been leaving a message. What could it be? When Bernard was presented with the grisly findings, he of course, acted shocked and disgusted. Then, he issued his verdict.

“Our Peter has had a terrible injustice laid upon him. He was killed for spreading our truth, for being the mouthpiece of the Lenoran Union. Again they try to silence us, and they issue a warning against continuing with the way they defile his body? We can understand only one thing here.

“The monarchy is responsible for this. Only they would have the ability and resources, and the desire to send us such a heinous message. Truly, they will stop at nothing. Well, neither will we. They want to silence us, we will be even louder! We will tell everyone of their crimes. Our hero Peter, my brother for these many years, will never be forgotten. He was among the very best of us.”

Bernard’s words could, of course, lead to only one course of action. Open revolt and a march against the king followed immediately. The king didn’t even bother to deny the accusations of having orchestrated Peter’s murder, knowing that nobody would believe it. In fact, even he had to admit that he assumed it had been done by someone in his administration, although it was odd that nobody had claimed credit for it yet.

Over the next several days there were demonstrations in the streets, pockets of violence, and further defections from the army and the working class. The upper echelon had no chance to hold the status quo together any longer.

An ultimatum was printed, and delivered, anonymously. It didn’t come from Bernard, or even at his behest; it didn’t need to, so great had his power become. It was reprinted and distributed across all of Juldania, although it was addressed to the king. Everyone saw it, and everyone understood the power this letter represented.

The words have become so famous now that they are burned into the minds of all the people of the Lenoran Union, taught in schools, and repeated on playgrounds as children re-enact the scene. Step down, and you can join us, it read. Be a truly free man, and live as one of us. Do this, or leave forever. But choose neither, and you will die.

The king made his choice, as we all know.