Gaius slammed his fist on the table. The wine bottles tottered precariously.
”Welsey, I came here to offer you peace. And I tell you, we will have peace…when you hang from a gibbet, for the sport of your own crows. We shall have peace, when you answer for the burning of my villages, and the children that lie dead there!”
Anger was in every line of the Emperor’s face, such as had not been seen before.
”So I tell you, ten years is but a blink in the life of a Valkorian. And when your raging hordes of uncouth savages come pouring south, I will cover the land with your blood, drenching all if need be. Now begone, sorry excuse for a noble title, destroyer of a far greater culture. Now go back to your bonfire.”
”If there is anything else you wish to discuss without this prating fool, I am at your disposal for 20 minutes, Lady Archon.” he spoke to Lyrien.