Before the representatives of the Empire entered GarGar’s tent, he insisted that his men lift him from his cot and place him in an upright position. The pain in his leg from the musket ball was more intense than anything he’d ever experienced. Even so, he wanted to present to the enemy an adversary who could at least stand on his own two feet. Grabbing his valet, Gaston by the collar, GarGar hissed into his ear, “Bring me some brandy now!” In a matter of seconds, Gaston presented GarGar with a glass. GarGar wolfed it down in one quaff.
There was a flourish of trumpets, announcing the arrival of the Imperial delegation. After taking a deep breath, GarGar said to his officers, “Watch and see how we humiliate these devils.” Just then, the tent flap flew open and several men in full armor entered. They all bore the crest of their master, the Emperor. “Welcome, gentlemen!” Said GarGar expansively. “Please make yourselves comfortable. “We have wine and brandy, whatever you may desire. Please, do the honor of sitting.” GarGar gestured to a row of folding canvass chairs. GarGar snapped his fingers, and several servants bearing trays with goblets and pitchers appeared. “Please! Sit!” Reiterated GarGar.
The man who seemed to be the leader of their delegation was the first to sit, but when the servant approached him with a tray, he knocked it out of the boy’s hands. “Sir! We have not come here to indulge in any revelry! We are here to discuss terms. Shall we begin without all these-” He gestured around the tent, “Without all these pleasantries?”
“Very well, my lord,” said GarGar smiling. “I have here a document that you will sign. It is an unconditional surrender. If you fail to sign, you and everyone amongst you will die.” GarGar tossed the document into the man’s lap. “Read it and weep.”