“The Oligarchy has called an emergency session, m’lord,” Perius Yurlay hurriedly stepped in to report as Oligarch Morinth regarded a bloody and disheveled Marcus Orn with disdain and displeasure. “Should I tell them to-”
“Tell them nothing,” Oligarch Morinth called out, motioning for the aide to be silenced. “They will wait like all my subjects wait. Grateful just for the mere opportunity to be in my presence…”
Morinth turned back to Lord Marcus Orn, “Isn’t that right, subject? Your Marauders are now defeated and Prax has escaped your grasp. You’re a man without an ally who’s well-being is entirely at the mercy of his king.”
“Kings rise and fall,” Orn mused as he revealed Prax’s knife. “New Jericho is crumbling down around you while your own council calls meetings without your approval. You brief rule is at an end…”
Oligarch Morinth, sensing the attack, grabbed Perius Yurlay by the shoulders and shoved him towards Orn as the hurled dagger plunged into the servant’s chest, allowing for the Oligarch to escape into the hallway and alert two nearby guards.