Sunday Excerpt, "Crucible"

It’s excerpt day for “sapphire Crucible.”  Today you get to meet some of the most powerful individuals in the Mandrean Empire.  Enjoy!
A trumpeter standing at one of the nearby hallways blowing a call to attention silenced the crowd.  People quickly jostled for their proper positions.  When the trumpeter finished his piece he sat the instrument by his side and produced a scroll.  He turned to face the seated audience and read.  “On behalf of Emperor Mandrean I wish to welcome you all to the Council of the Supreme Commanders of the Imperial Forces.  It is my distinguished honor to introduce them to you.  “Our first guest is the Governor and Supreme Commander of the Northern Province.  It is my honor to welcome General Maxion, Keeper of the North.”  A middle aged human man with more gray than brown in his hair emerged from the hallway.  He wore decorative leather armor and a long flowing white fur cape.  The crowd cheered as he bowed before them.  His demeanor betrayed a high self-opinion.  Then he walked over to a bench in the front of the row and stood at attention.  “Our next honored guest is Governor and Supreme Commander of the Eastern Province.  I give you Donorus the Deadly, Master of the East.”  A considerably younger man strode into the room as if it were his home.  He wore full plate armor from head to toe and made a deafening racket as he presented himself to the crowd.  A host of medals hung from a sash running diagonally across his chest.  The tall, muscular general received a standing ovation from the most receptive crowd as he gave a nod of the head rather than a bow.  Then he stomped his way over to the bench and stood near his comrade.   As the court members returned to their seats, the trumpeter began to speak once again.  “Representing the Southern Province, their Governor, Supreme Commander and Master of Legionary Training, General Tecious.”  The crowd gave the equivalent applause customary to a grandfather on his birthday.  It was several moments before the general appeared.  The man of advanced years wore more hair on his beard than his scalp.  He bore no armor but rather was clothed in a plain uniform with few highlights or decorations.  A simple wooden cane guided his steps as he shuffled to the bench.  He made no attempt to bow or absorb adulation.  It appeared in his expression that the entire ceremony was at best an unnecessary nuisance.  Reaching the bench, Tecious sighed and stood at attention.  The trumpeter continued to read the scroll.  “Our final Supreme Commander Governs the Western Province.  Our most honored and revered Commander, General Gramlick.”  A decrepit old man in a simple white robe limped into the chamber.  One of his legs was nearly unusable and never left the ground as he dragged it with tremendous effort across the floor.  In truth, he had greater need of a cane than Tecious.  His face showed the scars and the weathering of one who had seen a multitude of battles from the front line.  Resisting all offers of assistance, Gramlick managed to reach the bench and stand as best he could.  Even in his condition, his pride and charisma were clear to even the prisoners in the room.  The man commanded respect.      Two more trumpeters joined the first one and together played a fanfare.  It shortly transformed into a patriotic hymn.  The courtiers rose to their feet at the anthem.  The elves felt obliged to follow suit.  Those in the room watched the hallway with anticipation.  Everyone was entranced except for Necromancer who stood with his arms crossed, impatiently tapping the floor with his foot.  When the music stopped, the trumpeter who had been reading spoke.  “Now it is my great honor to introduce The Most Noble of Men, The Finest of the Fine, The Leader of Leaders, The Bravest of All Men, Future Ruler of the World and your Emperor.  I give you his Imperial Majesty; Lord Mandrean the Thirteenth escorted by the Master of his House, Lord Fendri.”  Lord Mandrean strutted from the hallway.  It was Linvin’s first opportunity to see the man who was so revered.  Mandrean was clean-shaven and adorned in a purple robe covering fine white silk beneath.  Tights covered his legs leading to glistening house slippers.  He bore no scepter in his hand.  The gold he carried was an oversized wine goblet.  His path was erratic, suggesting to Linvin that he was full of more than just his bravado.  Fendri walked several paces behind his Emperor.  He bore a massive wineskin, which was clearly half empty.  As Mandrean would veer away from his throne, Fendri would quicken his pace and nudge him back to the right path.  Linvin had seen his share of kings.  He’d also seen many great men.  Though he was sure not to let jealously cloud his vision, he could not see any admirable qualities in the man stumbling to his throne.  Mandrean appeared to him as a meager impersonator among the individuals of stature he had known and respected.  In a way Mandrean came across as an actor playing the part of an emperor in a play.  Even if that had been the case, however, the actor’s portrayal would have left much to be desired.  Linvin wondered in silence if anyone else felt as he did.  If the others in the room had never seen a true man of stature, it occurred to him the sad individual they were applauding might impress them.  He observed in silence.  Upon reaching the throne, Mandrean turned and faced his audience.  He gently swayed from side to side as Fendri produced a golden crown encrusted with emeralds and placed it upon his master’s head.