DoSP Part 2, Xander's Diary

+JMJ+

Diary of a Sailor Prince

Part Two

Nineteenth day of the Hot Season

Well, I do not see the point of dragging this odious task out any longer. All of my brothers and sisters, except of course for Greda and Tarek, have piled their wedding gifts for dear Anne in the storage chamber. Waylan's donkey keeps biting Yaron's camel but that is hardly the point. I have contributed nothing. Madra has hinted several times about my lack of brotherly love. The triplets have asked outright. I have been stalling by saying that I am looking for the perfect present. But the perfect present in my opinion would be a punch to the nose of that disgusting prince who thinks he can just waltz into River City steal my sister and claim a share of the Island as dowry. Everyone knows that the king of Kildimere is simply trying to take back the Glittering Island from my father. Well, I shall not be one to aide and abet him. But today Zeno kindly handed me a pouch full of food and spare garments and deposited me aboard the Crown Slayer. The same wretched ship that marooned Yaron on that miserable sand spit of an island.

“Alright, alright, I am going!” I shouted at my brother, “And I won't return until I bring the most wonderful present home for dear Anne!”

“Because if you don't I shall send you to the labor camps of Kildimere!” Zeno yelled. What a joker. The sea voyage will do me good. It is a well known fact I can last the grand total of ten minutes aboard a ship before I start trying to climb over the side. My insides churn and twist and threaten mutiny. Anyway, I shall find Anne a wedding gift. But it will be for her alone and not that wretched creep what calls himself her fiance.

Farewell for now,

Me

Thirtieth day of the Hot Season

Yesterday I went ashore on Ashtaran. Bleak miserable place that I ever saw. I never saw so many trees and such thick grass before in my life. Yaron says this is what Greengrove island looks like too. But how do people survive with the chill and lack of sand? The trees were easier for climbing then the palm trees back on Glittering Island. They had low branches. Can you believe that? I climbed one. Then do you know what happened? One of the treacherous branches snapped under my weight and dumped me on the ground. When I tried to stand up my leg turned a strange way and a bone popped out. After I finished screaming, writhing and fainting, I managed to grit my teeth, long enough to get used to the pain. Then I shouted for the sailors to come help me. Unfortunately, opening my mouth, caused me to scream again. I did not realize my voice was so high pitched. If I was not in such agony I could have been an amazing singer. Needless to say the sailors did not come for me. But how they failed to hear my cries is beyond my wildest dreams. But if I ever get my hands on the wretches, I will tare them to pieces. Provided that I can replace my leg first. It has seen many, many better days. Oh if only I could faint properly, then I won't have to wake up and experience any more pain.

Signing off

Me

First Day of Harvest

I awoke this morning in a cold sweat. I could not even feel my leg, which had turned a nasty color. What did bother me was that the hallucination of two men were staring down at me. They resembled each other, but the age difference was quite large. The older man had a thing straggly beard that had been braided into a thin disgusting little goatee. The affect was quite sickening. He was wearing a gray patched hood and cowl over a baggy brown shirt, that was strapped around the waist with a piece of rope. His baggy pants were gray like his hood. There were cloth shoes on his feet. The younger man had blonder hair, and the beginnings of a scraggly beard. He was wearing a large brown woolen shirt over woolen pants and boots. These people could not be fore real. Their clothes alone were impossible.

“Da?” the younger man said at last, “What kind of breeches do you reckon those are?” he pointed at me.

“The kind that I would whip any of my boys for wearing!” the older man threatened.

“They did not stop his leg from getting broke.” the younger man observed. I wished they would stop talking about me like I was not there. I suppose I was in too much pain to be all there, but they still could have had better manners.

“Find me some stout sticks, son!” the older man ordered.

“But why, Da?” the younger man whined.

“Hank get a move on it, now!” the older man growled, “Or I will whip you soundly! I see a fine investment in this here young man if we can get him move.” After Hank had gone off, and I was left to wonder what kind of investment I was, the older man knelt down, grabbed my ruined leg and cracked it. I screamed and everything went black.

I was in a hazy world when Hank and his Da carried me through the blurry trees to a small hut. I think a woman gave me something to drink and another man carved my leg up, but I could be wrong. Everything was probably just a terrible nightmare. I believe I must me dead.

Farewell for ever,

Me

To Be Continued