Theoden sat back in his chair, the anger dissipating somewhat, replaced by an expression of uncertainty in his eyes.
Wickton was right.
It was as if he had a herd of fat pigs but, due to some ancient rule, could only watch them grow fatter without being able to take a single bite of meat.
"Baron Wickton, my minister, it seems I've wronged you. As you said, there are too many bad people around us... Do you have any good suggestions?"
"Of course!"
Baron Wickton raised his head, with dangerous and cunning glints in his eyes, and continued in a lowered voice.
"The ancient contracts limit the taxes we can collect from the nobles, and if we impose too much, we'd be labeled as tyrants. But if we levy taxes for the survival of the Kingdom, even if they oppose, they surely wouldn't want to see their biggest 'debtor' go bankrupt."
Theoden showed a glimmer of interest on his face, leaning slightly forward in his seat.
"You mean?"
