Brother was conducting "court" again, where he pretended to listen to his nobles quarrel, while I slaved away looking at the documents their scribes gave to him, their King, to settle fairly, and justly. He never saw any of this, and if I wanted to, I could begin to turn his "oh so loyal" subjects against him, for I could make his rulings stupid, and pointless, making his subjects not like him, and have them plan against him. However, my idiot brother had all the luck. Even if his subjects rebelled, he'd quell the rebellion with a swipe of his hand, behead all of his mutinous vassals, blame it all on me, since it was my fault, and torture me to death. Of course, then his kingdom would fall to ruins, without the brains behind the throne, their king expending all of his energy keeping all of the classes in constant fear, and keeping the kingdom from starving. The idea made me smile, but the idea of torture didn't. He had more power in his left foot then most sorcerers had in their entire body, and I mean sorcerers, not medicine doctors, hedge wizards or petty magicians. Sorcerers. He was a god-King. So, he got the powers of a god, and I got the powers of a zit. The most interesting thing about me, was that I had a lion birthmark on my ass.

"Brother Julian?" it was him, the King. My brother.

"Yes, King Tort?" I asked, in reply.

"Come, sup with me." he demanded.

Sup? What the heck does that mean? Um. . . sup. As in supper. Gotcha. "Of course, brother, King." I'd much rather eat with the scribes, people who can actually carry a conversation, rather then ask my advice all the time. He has plenty of confidence, in battle, but he should make his own decisions in the economics, politics, and governing part of ruling a country. Our family's rule wouldn't survive my death if he kept this up. I swear, he once asked me if he should trade half of our surplus to a dying country, which would allow it to live again. All others had shunned it, not believing it worth the effort, except its longstanding ally, Zeus. We, Athena had a 30,000 barrel surplus of grain that year, and he wanted to know if we should lend it to them. They're now indebted to us, and have given us 6,000 barrels of grain, and 100 stone of gold, since Hades, the country, had struck gold right after begging us for the grain, and was a successful country.

We walked together to his rooms, he was not bothering to have a full, regal feast tonight. Both he and I hated them, but I had talked him into having one once a week, and on special occasions, for the vassals enjoyed them, and banquets were often times when they conspired against Tort. So cliched, we, or I should say, I had nipped them all in the bud, no sense in letting them grow to an inconvenience before considering it, by creating minor disputes between them, having them fight it out between the conspirators for a bit of wealth. Divide and conquer.

After we had eaten for quite a few minutes, my darling brother finally popped the question. "Brother? Will you have the documents ready by tomorrow? My vassals are getting impatient."

"They are already done, milord." I wanted to say, 'Some of us work, rather then play', but I knew that would be too much. I enjoyed the wealth my brother gave us, and I couldn't if I was beheaded.

"Do you remember back a few years? Just living in that hovel with our parents, before I stormed the capitol single handedly and demanded the throne?" I loved how modest he was, just as he loved my sarcasm. Strangely, he seemed almost wistful. "I remember how mother would hold you, and father would hold me, and how each of our parents smelled, Mother like mint, and thyme, from working in her garden, and father like sawdust from his work as a carpenter. . . And our sister."

I inhaled quickly. "Why do you speak of her, Tort?"

"No King?" he smiled.

"Not when you speak of our sister." I said, sharply. I didn't care for manners at the time, this was the single most irritating thing about my brother. He had ordered his sister killed. His own sister, after which our parents fled the country, for which I didn't blame them. Anyone could be next.

"You should understand, brother, she hated me. She was conspiring against me. . ."

"You had no proof, Tort. You just disliked her, and were feeling paranoid. She had nothing to gain by killing you, and everything to gain by staying by your side. Her family would've become noble." I shook my head, and picked up my goblet, without drinking from it.

"And she would've inherited if I was dead," he frowned.

"She couldn't have kept it, not with these scheming vassals. They'd all leave, using your death as an excuse. She was a nice person, donating quite a bit of money to the poor, and in the few months that she was around as a noble, unemployment was down more then it had been in years. She knew how to win the hearts of the people, and would've been a valuable asset. She wasn't stupid, Tort. Unlike some I know." I took a gulp of wine, and set the goblet down on the table, hard, hard enough that some spilled over.

He smiled, again. "Is that a thinly veiled insult, brother?"

I shook my head quickly, frowning in denial, while saying, "Yes."

He looked momentarily confused, before breaking out into a wide grin. "You confuse me, brother."

"I know, King."

"You know, if I didn't have you by my side, I'd have lost the kingdom long before. I'd like to give you a vacation." in the middle of drinking more wine, I spluttered, and dropped my goblet, shattering it.

"Wh-what?" my idiot brother practicing being without me? I did deserve the vacation, but he probably had an ulterior motive. "Brother, the last time I went on vacation, you had sister beheaded. What are you planning now?"

"Oh, nothing. Really. I just don't want to be dependant on you."

This time, my face was wreathed in smiles. "Thank you very much, brother. At what time?"

"Would two weeks be good for you?"

"Fine, fine. Many thanks, brother," and bowing, I left. Always leave on a high note. First lesson in diplomacy.