Thursday, December 27, 2018

DoSP Part 4, Xander's Diary

+JMJ+

The Diary of a Sailor Prince
Part Four

Seventeenth Day of the Colored Leaves
I am still with the Grimes family. I am not sure what silly thoughts made me chose such a path. Especially after swearing to disappear. But Caleb informed me that during the time of the colored leaves he and Hank go to the market once a week. I decided to stay and see if I could see the grouchy princess again. All week I thought about her. It is easier to work if one has something remarkable on their thoughts. At the moment I dearly desire to understand why she is so grouchy? I quite forgot all my troubles while contemplating this interesting question. Chopping wood, milking goats, mending roofs, scrubbing floors my make me weary, but at least I did not have to think about them.

Twenty-fourth Day of the Colored Leaves
This was the third time I attended Hank and Caleb into the village. Last time, I failed to see Anastasia. Perhaps this time I will. There was a man selling books from many different cities, islands, countries, and worlds. A priceless collection, or so he claimed. Caleb staid in front of the stall reading the entire time. I was quite amused. Or would have been if I did not have to cook tomato sauce the entire time. As fast as I filled jars, Hank sold them. He was especially good at selling them to women. Not sure what charm they found in him.

I was sucking my hand after scalding it with boiling sauce, when a bugle resounded through the air. Immediately, I stood up. It was force of habit, as my father always had a blast of the bugle to announce his entrance. He insisted that everyone stand up and attend him. I wondered if it was Anastasia was coming. But it was not Anastasia. A tall dark skinned man, who towered over everyone else in the market, by at least a foot, swaggered into view. To vastly smaller men with bugles were walking in front of him. In front of them was a third man carrying a banner. The tall man stepped up onto a small platform. There was another blast of bugle, then silence.
“Sit and listen all ye lowly scum of Ashtaran.” the very tall man bellowed, “His royal majesty Lord Caspian Suspesian Alvaro Montgore Lemuel Gammon the XV has declared that any and all men can attempt to win the hand of his daughter Anastasia Maria Victoria Gemma Louisa Gammon the IX.” Excited whispers ran throughout the square. I was so delighted that I accidentally leaned against the pot. My bloodcurdling scream drowned out every other sound in the square. I felt my face turning red as everyone turned and stared at me. If only the ground would open up and swallow me.

“Right, back to me now.” the very tall man said, “The restrictions are quite simple. First before any man can enter the contest, he must arrive at the palace in a flying ship!” gasps ran throughout the crowd.
“A flying ship?”
“Impossible!”
“Atrocious!”
“The Princess will never be married!”
“Who wants her anyway!”
“Not impossible, just really hard.”
“Are you crazy!”
“I have seen flying ships before!”
“I am going to get one!”
“Where do you find them?”
“And give away that edge I have over you all away? Not a chance!”
“Once at the palace.” the very tall man continued, “You must make the princess laugh. If you fail, you will lose your head.” I gulped and rubbed my throat. This all sounded like something my father would add to a trial. I smirked. If father made a test for Anne, maybe Prince Philip of Kildimere would lose his head. The thought was a rather pleasant. I sighed wistfully, while I bandaged my burnt hand up in a wet rag.

Signing off,
Me

Twenty-Fifth Day of the Colored Leaves
Mother Grimes packed Hank a big basket with a fat little chicken stuffed with basil stuffing, an apple cake, frosted with thick butter frosting, and a little bottle of wine. My mouth watered, just seeing her fill the basket. But I had to content myself with a crust of hard bread dipped in stale water. I watched Hank put on his best buckskin cloak, that was lined with swan feathers. Then he picked up the ax that I had just spent hours sharpening.
“Wish me luck everyone.” he laughed, “Oh wait, I do not need luck, for I shall succeed by my own iron strength.” I rolled my eyes. I could beat Hank in arm wrestling, and I did not have iron strength, therefore Hank was a little liar. As soon as Hank had left, I stuffed the rest of my bread into my mouth, grabbed my coat and tore out of the house.
“Boots, come back here!” Mother Grimes screeched, “You need to wash the-” I shut the door drowning out her voice. I wanted to see how Hank managed on making a flying ship. As far as I knew, he was quite incapable of building a regular ship, let alone a flying one. Hank went deep into the forest, then he sat down on a moss covered rock. I sneaked up behind him and watched. Hank lifted the chicken out of the basket. I licked my lips. The chicken smelled so good, tears came to my eyes. I would go home for no other reason then to get some delicious food. Oh for a piece of tenderly cooked meat. I licked my lips, and reached one hand towards the basket.

Suddenly and old woman wrapped in dirty rags appeared out of nowhere. My eyes bulged. She had stepped out of thin air! Hank had been to absorbed with his foot to notice.
“Give me something to eat!” the old woman croaked in a shaky voice. Hank looked up and glared at her.
“Get out of here you old hag!” he snarled, “There is hardly enough food for me to eat.”
“But I am hungry!” the old woman croaked. Then she looked straight at me and caught my eye. If anyone had the evil eye it was her for sure. I turned and bolted through the trees, back to the cottage. Later I bewailed my cowardice for running away. What had the old woman done to Hank? It would have been delightful to watch. I full expected never to see him again. Nor was I sorry at such a though.

All for the moment,
Me

Twenty-Sixth Day of the Colored Leaves
This morning, while I was sawing wood, Hank limped into the clearing. I dropped the saw and stood up. There was a rough bloody bandage wrapped around his left leg and he was leaning on a stout stick. He looked pleasantly ill. I smiled.
“Good morning, dear Hank.” I simpered.
“Shut up Boots!” he snarled, “This is all your fault, you little reprobate.” My smile increased. This was just getting better and better. If it was all my fault, I could feel happy in the knowledge that I had been revenged on him. Caleb came out of the cottage with a pile of scrolls tucked into his belt. He stared at Hank, then grinned.
“Failed already, dear brother?” he smirked.
“It would be all Boots' fault!” Hank snarled, “He made the ax to sharp.”
“Oh dear.” I sighed, resolving to sharpen the blade twice as long next time, “How do you figure so?”
“If you had not made the blade so sharp I surely would not have cut myself.” Hank growled.
“But that is not Boots' fault.” Caleb snickered, “It is the fault of your own clumsiness.” Hank stormed into the cottage bellowing for his mother. Caleb and I laughed unfeelingly.

Twenty-Seventh Day of the Colored Leaves
Today Caleb resolved to go and complete the flying ship. I doubt he cared a wit about Anastasia, but simply wanted to rub it in Hank's face. I could hardly blame him. His mother backed him some fried trout, seed cakes, and a bottle of current juice. Judging by the food alone, Hank was the favorite son. But still Caleb's packed lunch was better then my own crust and cold peas. As I had done with Hank, I followed Caleb. Time I resolved to stay and see what the old enchantress would do. I had no doubts that the same thing would happen. Maybe I was just a superstitious fool, like everyone else on the Glittering Island, but it seemed plausible that the enchantress would keep attacking poor fools until she got her way. In her case, some food. Caleb went to the same clearing Hank had gone too, and sat down in the exact same spot. He had hardly touched his food before the enchantress showed up.
“Sorry old woman.” Caleb replied upon hearing her desire for food, “This has to last me all day and it is all I got.” The enchantress glared at me. I felt my feet turn of my own accord and send me running for home. Blast it all! The enchantress surely was putting a spell of some kind on me. The only way to discover what was going on would be to do it myself. I returned to the cottage and went to work, picking vegetables and fruits from the garden. I wondered when Caleb would return.

Twenty-Eight Day of the Colored Leaves
Caleb returned today with a bandaged arm. How he had managed to cut himself on the very arm he was holding his ax with, remains a mystery to me. But it shows a lot of talent.
“That wretched ax jumped out of my hand and cut my arm on it's own accord!” Caleb yelled in a fury. I raised my eyebrows and crossed my arms.
“And you call me the simpleton around here.” I jeered, even though I was pretty sure he was telling the truth.
“Calm yourself Caleb!” Father Grimes growled, “Axes do not cut of their own accord. You are simply very clumsy.” Caleb was seething with anger as he stormed into the cottage to have his mother stitch his cut up. I grinned and chewed on a piece of desert grass, while trying to look stupid.
“Boots, take that lime grass our of your mouth. It could stiffen your tongue!” Father Grimes barked, and slapped me hard. Back on the Glittering Island, he could have been beheaded for such an attack on my person. I would not be upset if he was hanged.
“Father Grimes, may I take a little basket of food and go into the forest?” I asked with false humility, “I would dearly love to build a flying ship and marry a pretty little princess.”
“Certainly not!” Father Grimes snapped, “You saw what happened to Hank and Caleb!” he stomped off, leaving me to grumble at annoying people.

Signing off in Anger,
Me


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