Hazaiah's Head

The call, arising from the Royal throat of the reclining King, possessed of a great bellow from his Royal lungs, propelled by his Royal vocal chords, passed his Royal lips with such fury as to fill the august and stately bedchamber, traverse the threshold into the hall without and escape, through the open-air congress, even into the central courtyard, where it echoed momentarily among the gilded domes topping the castle’s many towers, and disturbed as it did the many birds nesting there and startled the many guards on duty, before it rose, finally, into the blue and cloudless and insensate heavens.
“Bring me the head of Hazaiah the Terrible!”
- from HAZAIAH'S HEAD