He extends a hand towards the clerics. "In what nation can citizens speak their minds thus, without facing the sword or the noose in the instant? In what nation can those who protest and those who celebrate the Crown—" he places the entire mass of peasants in this category, as per your instructions, "stand in the same patch of earth and not come to blows? Only Brenton!"
"Huzzah!" one of the peasants calls out, raising a fist.
"As we praise our King, we are praising our national character—the finest in the world. We praise ourselves!" There is more acclaim at this. "Raise a cheer and raise a glass this day—if not for His Majesty, then for the great nation we share. Raise your voices for the land of Brenton!"
"To Brenton!" Applause and joyous shouts ring from dozens of onlookers. A fool's ideas can shape a crowd, you realize, surprised at the power you can wield. [+Fealty]
The Captain catches your eye, and you make a surreptitious gesture to keep moving. You lean back in your cart as he gives a hasty order to the wagoners to press on. Agreed, we want to be sure to have the last word. It's very satisfying to see how flummoxed and sputtering the two holies are, totally unmoored after your mouthpiece's retort. [+Surety]
As the wagon train makes fit to leave, you hear scattered boos and resentful calls against King Saul and the extravagant largesse being shown him on his anniversary. But these people came out to watch the caravan go to their King, you think, astonished; and now they disdain him? The moment demonstrates just how mutable the masses' views can be, when stirred up by a persuasive presence. [+Discontent]
Onward