Sunday Excerpt, "Crucible"

Mandrean sipped his wine and looked out the window. Without looking at Fendri, he spoke to the man. “We are alone now. Speak your mind.”

Fendri resumed cleaning the mess on the floor. “I have no opinion fit to give, My Master.”

Mandrean walked over and held out his hand. Helping Fendri to his feet he said, “I believe that about as much as I believe the rubbish Betrimpia was spewing.”

Fendri let out a slight laugh and set down the tray. Then he sat on an accent chair and nibbled at some bacon from breakfast. “I have known you my entire life. We were childhood friends. Our fathers were friends. We were schooled together. In the army I served as your Weapon’s Bearer and guarded your back on many campaigns. Now I run your personal affairs and your household with the utmost discretion.”

“These things I know, Old Friend,” Mandrean concurred. “What point are you making?”

Fendri threw the bacon aside and walked briskly to the emperor. “My point is I know you better than anyone. Yet even I cannot understand why you allow that woman to continue to waste the air other people could be breathing. She is a devious, manipulative shrew.”

“She was my first concubine,” Mandrean said firmly.

“She brings nothing but distress to your house. You have never been a sentimental person so your argument carries no weight. Why do you not have her killed? You are the Emperor. No one would give the murder a moment’s pause. Eliminate her before she eliminates you.”

Mandrean laughed. “You give her too much credit.”

“You don’t give her enough,” snapped Fendri. “Look at her rein of intimidation in the lower halls. The other girls are terrified of her. They see her treacherous nature. I see it. Why is it that you do not?”

“She has been with me nearly twenty years,” Mandrean stated. “I cannot throw that away so easily. She has an attachment to me.”

Fendri’s agitation increased. “I have just witnessed that attachment. Do you know what I saw? What just played out here was a puppet master with her favorite marionette putting on a show. The so-called ‘attachment’ you felt were the strings she pulled to bend you to her will.”

Mandrean’s short temper rose at an alarming rate as he heard Fendri’s description. “Your joke is not funny.”

“Then it is a good thing I was not joking,” Fendri stated firmly. “You have always trusted me and I have never given you cause to doubt my sincerity. Believe me when I say she is playing you like an instrument. Look at what she does objectively and you will see she gets what she wants from you. I tell you no good will come of this. She has a plan. Once it is put into effect, it will not end well for you. Kill her now, while you still can.”

Mandrean’s anger was tempered by the genuine display of concern from his closest friend. He set down his goblet and paced with his hands behind his back. The conversation with Betrimpia played through his mind. “I know you believe all those things to be true,” he began. “I am no one’s puppet. Look at all the things she asked for and did not receive. She holds no control over me.”