Free A Knight of the Sacred Blade by Jonathan Moeller

him to you.”
    Goth showed his fangs.
    “This country has gotten entirely too large and complex for a democratic body to rule effectively. But Americans are opposed to tyrants in any form. It’s a knee-jerk reaction, implanted in grade school when all the kids hear how George Washington gloriously freed the colonists from the vile rule of the King of England. But if I kept up the illusion of republican government, if I ruled through a puppet president and Congress, they will tolerate…”
    Goth laughed harder. “Indeed.” Wycliffe got a glimpse of fangs through his thick lips. “You do not need to explain the will to power to me.” 
    Wycliffe half-smiled. “Good.” Had Goth made a joke? Wycliffe didn’t want to know. 
    “It seems a waste. You have the power over the rabble. Use it to rule them, not to sway them.”
    Wycliffe snickered. “Marugon once told me true power lies in technology. He was right, of course, but there’s a greater power. It lies in the people, in the masses.”
    Goth sneered. “They are weak.”
    “Individually, yes,” said Wycliffe. “But taken as a whole, taken as mass, then they are a powerful. If you can unite a million of them, give them a single purpose and goal…that is true power.”
    Goth’s sneer didn’t waver. “If they could but find the will.”
    “A million of them,” said Wycliffe, his voice quiet, “could crush even you, oh mighty king of the winged ones.”
    And soon that combined will and purpose would belong to Wycliffe alone.
    Goth said nothing. Wycliffe sighed, sat back, and finished his wine cooler. They passed the rest of the trip in silence, Wycliffe’s mind whirling with plans and possibilities for the future.

    ###

    “Markham,” said Wycliffe, striding into the campaign war room, Goth a half-step behind him. “What news?”
    Wycliffe had taken one of the warehouses of his compound and converted it into the nerve center for the campaign. Rows of computers lined the walls and stood at desks through the room, interspersed with cubicles for phones. Huge TV monitors covered one wall. 
    Markham turned. His ruthless majordomo had been more than ready to take charge of Wycliffe’s campaign. The man knew about the winged demons and their…tastes, but did not care, so long as he was paid on time. That, and the promise of a high position once Wycliffe became vice president was all that had been needed to secure his loyalty. 
    Markham grinned ear to ear. “Congratulations on a fine speech, Senator. We had it on all the monitors. It was…rousing. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone, even you, speak so effectively.”
    “A cross of gold oration,” said one of the Gracchan Party volunteers manning a phone.
    Wycliffe raised an eyebrow. “I should hope not. Williams Jennings Bryan lost the election. How did it take on the ten o’clock news?” 
    Markham checked his clipboard. “Excellently. Every major network carried it as the opening story, followed by some commentary, press reaction, people’s reactions, and so forth. Eight minutes of coverage, at least. They’re still talking about it on CNN, I believe.”
    “Good, good,” said Wycliffe. “Any response?”
    Markham laughed and gestured at the cubicles and the campaign workers hunched over the phones and computers. “The phones have been ringing off the hook all night, and your speech has dominated all the social networks. It’s only slowed down in the last hour or so. It’s been almost all congratulations and requests for membership materials. One or two negative calls, but I think they were from crackpots.” 
    Wycliffe smiled and clapped Markham on the back. “Good. This mad little venture of mine wouldn’t have gotten very far without your organizational ability.”
    “Thank you, sir,” said Markham. “Do you want to say anything to the volunteers?”
    “Later, when the morning shift comes,” said Wycliffe. “I’ll make a speech then.” He smiled. “And then even I need