|
Post by brotigern on Jul 2, 2016 17:57:29 GMT
"OW! MY HEAD!"
Gwrtheyrn berated the low doorpost of his throne room quite extensively. It was something that he stewed over for three days.
"Lift that doorframe!" he ordered, and men scurried to do his bidding. Soon, it was three feet higher. Learned men claimed that it had been a load-bearing doorframe, but Gwrtheyrn knew better, and claimed that the sudden sagging on the northern side of the Palace was due to God's displeasure. That got him thinking.
In his earlier days, he'd refused to endorse or castigate Pelagius and his followers, preferring the hope that if things were allowed to simmer nicely, the stew would come out tender, if he mixed his metaphors. Though, he'd secretly always had a soft spot for Pelagius. And so, Gwrtheyrn set out the word: he was a Pelagian now, and he expected his vassals to do the same.
|
|