DoSP part 3, Xander's Diary

+JMJ+

Diary of a Sailor Prince 

Part Three

Fifth Day of the Colored Leaves

It has been many weeks since I fell ill. I have been cared for by these really poor woodcutters. The Grimes family. Father Grimes is ill-tempered, lazy and likes to drink. Mother Grimes is ill-tempered, whining, and likes to smack people. Hank Grimes is the laziest of the bunch, he is also ill-tempered, and never does any work. The younger son, Caleb, likes to read, study, hates work, but is very mild tempered, especially compared to the others. These people are so generous. They would except no money for my care. But they encouraged me to do all the work.

Farewell dear,

Me

Ninth Day of the Colored Leaves

No one knows what work is until they have had to rise before the sun, chop wood, light the fire, make porridge, cook porridge, search porridge, clean up from breakfast, wash dishes, put away dishes, feed cow and donkey, carry water from the stream, two miles up a mountain, for cow and donkey, dig potatoes, dig turnips, dig other stinky roots, carry water from the stream, two miles up a mountain, to splash over other garden items, carry water from stream, two miles up a mountain, to refill rain barrel, about five trips, then make another meal, serve and clean it up. That is what it is like to work. For real. Tomorrow, I am told that I will be selling turnips and potatoes in a market square like a common serf. I think I have well repaid the wretched woodcutters for their meager kindness.

Goodbye for now,

Me

Tenth Day of the Colored Leaves

The sun had not even begun to rise when Hank, Caleb and myself set out for the market square. I may have been leading the donkey and hauling a large pack upon my own stiff back, but I had no intention of leading or hauling anything back to the Grimes cottage. It was not that I expected to sell everything, but I fully planned on never returning to the horrid Grimes establishment if I died in the process. Caleb was reading a book. How he managed to stay on his feet, yet never look at the steep mountainous trail is beyond me. But he accomplished this feat with ease and grace. Hank, on the other hand, tripped over every twig and stone in the trail. He was soon a mess of bruises and scrapes. He took great pleasure in beating me for his own clumsiness. I shuddered at how clumsy he would be if he could not see the trail at all.

We had been walking for hours and the sun was already high in the sky, when our silent walk was interrupted. This time it was not a fall from Hank or the donkey being obstinate. It was a surly young woman in a white tight fitting gown. Her golden blond hair was twisted about her head with flowers. In her long slender white fingers she clenched a bow. A iron shod arrow was pointing at us. I gulped. Surely this very white apparition was a ghost. For even her bow and arrows were white. The gold in her hair was the only color available that I could see. Hank promptly tripped over his own feet and fell sprawling in an inelegant way.

“Your highness do move, please.” Caleb said, as he turned a page in his book, but never even looked up at the ghostly lady. She was a princess. I gaped at her open mouthed. She turned her pale face on me and scowled nastily. I looked her straight in the eye. I detest princesses. So stupid. This one was more sour and contrary looking then any princess I had ever that the bad luck to be acquainted with.

“Woodsman Hank, I believe you have acquired an extra member in your caravan.” the princess said haughtily. Shivers ran down my back. Her voice was sounded sharp and cold, but I could imagine that if softened it would be sweet and a singing enchanting. I nearly slapped myself. How could I be falling out of focus over a stupid princess? Hank bowed down almost to the ground.

“Oh worshipful princess, crown jewel of our lovely Ashtaran, beauteous of all beautiful creatures,” Hank whined, “This is my simple minded little brother Boots.” I said nothing. I was eying the princess's pale skin and wondering how she was not browned by the sun. The princess tossed her golden head.

“My father would laugh that another fool boy has seen my presence and yet failed to make me so much as smile.” she said icily. She fired the arrow. I felt a cold rush of wind and my hair parted as the iron arrow flew over my head, narrowly missing my scalp. The princess then proceeded to push rudely past me in the general direction her arrow had taken.

“ Princess Anastasia does not seem to be fond of you, little Boots.” Caleb said, as he turned another page.

“She detests princes and hates common men worse!” Hank grumbled. We then proceeded down to the market. But my mind was on Anastasia. Did she truly never laugh?

All for now,

Me

Hank and Caleb Grimes. Princess Anastasia

(Supporting cast from part 3)

To Be Continued

God Bless You all,