Larsen surveyed the gathering of dozens of lesser guildmasters from his vantage point in front of the council table, which stood on a dais overlooking his large banquet hall. The results of months of politicking and bribing and blackmailing were arrayed in front of him. Clearly two-thirds of those in the hall were adorned in the green of the Harvest guild—the largest guild in Ness, and in mere moments that guild would no longer exist. Wait, it would exist, Larsen corrected himself—he must not gloat—but the guild would now be a sub-guild of his, its existence merely ceremonial.
The Merchant guild would soon be the most important and powerful guild in all of Ness. In fact, Larsen had no doubt that his power would be absolute for all intents and purposes. He looked at Saxe, the Guildmaster Knight. The arrogant fool took the money and agreed to Larsen's plan, thinking that his soldiers guaranteed his power. But Larsen would now control the food supply and the money.
Saxe noticed his attention and gave him a conspiratorial grin. Larsen smiled back and looked back out at the green robes, soon to be replaced by royal blue.
"The banquet is prepared, sir." It was Karch, who had returned after checking the kitchen.
"Very good, Karch." His deputy didn't smile but remained at attention. Larsen's mood was so light in the moment that he decided to thank his deputy, something he never did, lest his ego get too big.
He turned to his deputy and put his arm on his shoulder. "Karch." His face was impossible to read, but Larsen liked to think he saw concern. He liked that. "I wanted to thank you for the idea on handling my brother." Larsen allowed himself a chuckle. "Watching the garbage fall off him as he exited that wagon was worth it enough, but knowing that his laziness and embarrassing behavior will now be tarnished with a useless guild like the thieves, rather than my own, has taken a huge weight off my shoulders."
Karch bowed. "I was merely taking advantage of Pietro's demise. It was as much luck as anything."
Larsen appreciated Karch's humility, false as it may have been. "Nonsense. It was a masterstroke. My impertinent brother can do whatever he likes, and the council will now have to deal with him. I don't care if they throw him in chains at this point. My familial duty is over."
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It was at this point that an apple flew past Larsen's ear and landed on the council table. There was a commotion near the other end of the hall, and Larsen's eye caught someone in a brown cloak running down the top of one of the long banquet tables. He was kicking over carafes and bowls and picking up food to throw, which he aimed toward the Council table.
Larsen dodged a roll and then shouted, "Someone grab him!" A number of the lesser guildmasters were attempting to do just that with little success. "Saxe, aren't your knights good for anything? That guildless bastard is destroying the banquet hall."
Saxe and his deputy had already rushed toward the man, while his other knights left their posts at the exit to assist. As the miscreant got closer, Larsen noticed that he was more of a young man or an older boy than an adult. In fact, he looked familiar.
As Saxe approached with his sword unsheathed, the older boy—yes, it was definitely a boy—dropped some food and held out his hands. "I surrender to the Guildmaster Knight. If my bit of Founders Day fun has offended, I do apologize." The moment the boy spoke, Larsen knew who it was—his brother's friend Raef.
Saxe lifted his sword, and Larsen realized the dolt intended to dispatch the boy right then and there. "Saxe, have you lost your mind?" Larsen shouted. "We have a banquet to attend to. Feel free to bruise the boy as you deliver him to your guild members, but don't spill his blood."
"Aye, Larsen." Saxe sounded disappointed. "We'll take care of him in the dungeons. Far from the light of day." He turned to Raef. "You hear that boy? That bit of bread you dropped may be the last food you'll ever touch." Saxe approached the boy, who didn't say anything.
Just as Saxe was almost within arm's reach and the other knights had relaxed, the boy ducked and leapt onto a different table, where he proceeded to kick the place settings and carafes of wine. He was a third of the way toward the entryway when one of the lesser guild masters grabbed his leg, tripping him.
Saxe reached him before he could fight off the arms holding him. Not bothering to ask him to come peacefully, Saxe grabbed him by his cloak and roughly pulled him down off the table. The boy stumbled to the ground, landing hard on his hands and knees. Saxe then kicked him in the head, and the boy fell unconscious.
"You men, clean up this mess!" Saxe yelled to his knights, who grabbed Raef and dragged him away. Saxe sheathed his sword and walked back to the dais. He had a large smile on his face.
Larsen looked out at the boy being dragged away and the chaos he left behind. Why did he do such a stupid stunt? Was this connected to his brother? Larsen couldn't see how. His brother didn't even know of the banquet until after the parade.
It didn't matter. It would take a while to clean up the mess, but once it was done, things would continue as planned. Larsen smiled. It would take a lot more than a delay to ruin this night.
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