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[Thrax]

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The Treaty of Friendship signing had gone well and smoothly. Both the Marquis of Valoria, Lord William, and the Regent, Pharaoh Ramses, had first delivered excellent speeches, each calculated to promote and ensure a continued, settled, lasting, peace between the two governments, and then shared a fine dinner together. Toasts were exchanged and documents were signed. All in all it was a cause for celebration.

Thrax had hopes that further treaties could be signed, but he knew from now on it would not be so easy. Many nobles and their vassals had flocked to another banner, and there were still very many more who would hesitate, waiting to see which of the two would prevail to unite Britannia under one rule, or if another would arise to challenge them, before they cast in their lot with anyone.

The Baron felt inspired. Taking his pen, he added several lines to his book, Exhortations.

"There can be only one head in government, and there shall ever be only one. Despite outward appearances and smooth, flattering words, bows and salutes, the real power shall find root in the strongest will and heart. Councils, alliances, committees, unions of state with state notwithstanding, the one who gives birth to the idea shall ever strive to dominate and rule over all others, and purge the dissenters and reformers by any means at hand. And if he is not the strongest, he shall fall by the one who is."

"Woe unto those whose paths cross the whims of the dictator!"

"Politicians, Kings, nobles, may claim a benevolent attitude, fair-mindedness, equity, and virtue---paragons of charity all---but in each of us lies a dark and malignant place, a spot tawdry and oft despised, rejected, from which issues an overwhelming desire to dominate and rule over fellow man. Yea, that part shall deceive, connive, threaten and murder so that it may be sated. And no one escapes this hunger. He who denies it has fallen prey already, yet knows it not."

"Beware, my friend, of those who pose as friend in the guise of benefactor and champion; who promise change for the good of all; who make promises that resound like harpstrings of hope. In the end you will find yourself lagging somewhere behind them following in their train, holding their coattails out of the mud, or licking their boots---or else lying face down in a ditch with their dagger in your back."