“What do you mean to tell me no has bothered to parley with the invaders?!” Lord Leonard slammed his fist on the top of the wooden picnic table, several maps vibrated and fell off from the force of the blow.

“Well… Not exactly… No, you see..” The mayor was stammering and stuttering, trying to come up with some excuse – any excuse – which would calm the prince’s temper.

“You have nearly a thousand guards, a whole school of wizards, a temple full of priests, and a knight’s chapterhouse in the city, and you shut the gates, cower like children afraid of the boogeyman, and can’t even speak to the people who march up and knock on your gates?” The look he was directing the mayor was full of cold, hard steel; contempt plain across his face.

“What the hell makes you think these are even invaders?!” Once again his fist slammed down on the picnic table; hard enough this time that the boards on the top cracked and splintered.

“Well… They.. they’re not dressed as travelers!” Stammering, the mayor tried to feebly offer a reason. “Travelers don’t come in such large numbers, they don’t ride horses trained for war, nor wear full-plate war gear! What else could they possibly be,” he asked, exasperated.

“Hell the hell should I know?” Glaring icily at the mayor, Lord Leonard yelled out. “Somebody fetch my damn steed! If no one here has the balls to see what the enemy at our gates want, then I’ll do it myself!”

“But My Lord, what if they take you hostage?!” The mayor cried out warningly.

Slowly. Calmly. With exaggerated deliberation, Lord Leonard pulled his chain glove from his hand, one finger at a time. Once it was off, he slowly folded it neatly, tucked it into the corner of his belt, and then slammed a large meaty fist into the old mayor’s face. Bones crunched and the mayor dropped as if he’d been killed.

“I am no coward.” Curling his fingers into a fist, Leonard clenched his hand so hard the knuckles turned white. “The Flaming Lion of Gondor does not hide behind walls nor expect others to fight his battles for him. Should he fall, then he falls with honor! Should he fall, the whole wrath of the Lion’s Crown will descend relentlessly upon those that perpetrated such a crime.

“The Lion of Gondor is no man’s hostage.” Glaring at the crumpled mayor, Leonard wrinkled his nose and then spat on him, before he yelled out commandingly, “Sir Liam!”

“My Lord?” The old knight bowed his head to show he was present and attentive.

“The city is yours to hold and manage. This bastard…” Glancing down at the old mayor, Lord Leonard kicked him once to indicate whom he was speaking about. “… is not worthy to manage such a providence. Until My Lord Father can find someone suitable to replace him in his position, the city is yours. Manage it well.”

“Thy will be done, my lord.” Nodding his head, Sir Liam accepted the role as temporary city mayor with a slight sigh. Nothing but damn paperwork, headaches, and problems for him, until the king could appoint someone new. Gods willing, he was hoping that it wouldn’t take long.

Seeing Sir Liam was accepting and not going to argue over the position, Lord Leonard climbed atop his massive warhorse and held his hand out to the side. One of the naked banner holders quickly rushed up and handed him the pole he was holding. Starting at it, Lord Leonard muttered a secret command under his breath and the flag attached to the top instantly changed color to become a pure white, with a small dove embossed in the center of it -- the universal symbol of peace and non-violence.

“Someone pass me that ass.” Using the tip of the banner, Lord Leonard pointed down to the crumpled form of the old mayor. Instantly two knights clicked their heels together, saluted, and then rushed over to grab the mayor under his armpits and drag him before the prince.

“Up here. Just drape him over the saddle if need be,” he commanded, and the two hastened to obey.

With a final nod to show his subordinates that he was ready, The Lion of Gondor donned his helm and rode out from the school heading to the eastern gates. Someone needed to get to the bottom of who these invaders were and what they wanted. Messengers and envoys could have made dozens of paths back and forth by now, if the mayor wasn’t such a cowardly bastard.

If his actions – or more specifically his inactions -- led the kingdom into war with a heavily armed and armored opponent, the prince was determined to see to it that the old fool was going to be the first to die in the upcoming conflict.