Tuesday, April 2, 2019

DoSP part 7, Xander's dairy

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Diary of a Sailor Prince
Part Seven


Eleventh Day of the Gray Time
Kalin, the guard that met us at the gate, is a grouch. He wanted to know every tiny detail about our ship. Why, last night, he would not even let us go to a public house for some rest. He made us stay on the Sea Princess all day and night. When I complained, he said that the more he learned now, the quicker we would get into the palace. Well, that is a lot of rubbish. It would seem that King Caspian did not really want anyone to bring a flying ship to the palace after all. Kalin claimed no one could go to the palace dressed like we were. Did he think we were beggars? When I referred him to the King, pointing out that he had said anyone could attempt to win his daughter's hand, the clod found another excuse. We had no papers.

Signing off with Frustration,
Me

Side Note
If I ever am unlucky enough to become a king, I shall do away with such annoying things as formalities.

Me

Fourteenth Day of the Gray Time
Three days of protocol! But finally Kalin must have got sick of us. He finally told the messengers to get lost in a very unpleasant place, and told us all to follow him.
“You do know that you should have told the messengers that as soon as we arrived.” Swiftfoot told him coldly. Deadeye glared over his face mask.
“Pronto, I say!” he said, “Why in King Blair's Castle, we would have gained an audience and been invited to dinner by this time.”
“I hardly make the rules around.” Kalin said coldly.
“Not trying to interfere with anyone,” Hunger murmured timidly, “But you should have been more efficient.”
“Or just plain quicker.” Bale said, as he heaved his bundle of straw onto his back.
“Leave the cottage building supplies!” Kalin barked, “And stop insulting my efficiency. Just you try to do better.”
“I could do better with my foot tied up!” Swiftfoot snarled. Parch opened his mouth, no doubt intending to bellow his own opinion. I decided to cut him off before things could get any worse.
“Come on all of you.” I cried, “Shut your mouths before he decides we need to wait a whole year before seeing the King.” I started pushing Sharp down the street.
“I have a very low opinion on gate guardians.” Sharp shouted over his shoulder, “May you get the worst luck and shrewish wife in existence.”
“Keep your curses to yourself.” Kalin snapped. He was beginning to look very irritated. No doubt he was as eager to escape our company as we were to escape him.

Signing off with rising hopes,
Me

Eighteenth Day of the Gray Time
I am dying of boredom. Kalin was right, it is very hard to see the King. Is the Princess even worth it? I highly doubt it. We have been sitting in the waiting hall for four days and nights. Our meals, nothing but a small crust of bread twice daily. My companions keep repeating the same things over and over again.
“I am so hungry. Spare a nibble.” Hunger would not stop saying to every passing servant
“The the next commoner who calls us a load of peasants is going to have his teeth knocked down his throat.” Sharp growled for the fifth time.
“My throat is so dry that my tongue is sticking to my mouth.” Parch moaned, “Oh for a large foaming glass of mountain ice and beer.”
“Who cares about mountain ice and beer, whatever that is?” I snapped, after he had said it about ten times in quick succession.
“Boots, can you hold my straw, my arms are getting tired.” Bale complained.
“I will not hold your straw!” I barked, “Kalin told you to leave it on the ship. So it is all your own fault that your hands are tired!”
“I am not tired.” Con said, “My sticks are only a very little bundle.”
“No one asked for your opinion.” Bale griped.
“Shame Bale.” Deadeye said in a superior voice, “Con is thy younger by two years and you complain. Take advice from him and toughen up.” Bale glowered and Con simpered.
“Oh that is just brilliant muddle brain.” Swiftfoot growled, “Dividing the boys, eh?”
“Who said anything about dividing them, one leg?” Deadeye growled. A messenger tapped me on the shoulder.
“About twenty people waiting in front of you have agreed to let your group go next.” he said.
“Brilliant!” I cried and stood up. Maybe there is something wonderful about traveling with bickering annoying barbarians.

King Caspian was not a very tall man. But he carried himself so straight and ridgedly he had the air of a much taller man. A soft yellow velvet cape was draped coquettishly over his shoulder. His graying black hair and beard was curled carefully. His ringed fingers gripped a solid gold and silver cane.
“So an army of bedraggled peasants dare to assume the right to court my daughter?” he said in a cold voice. I decided that all Kings were alike. Caspian and my father would have gotten one quite well with each other. They both seemed to think themselves very important. It was beside the point that they were important.
“Well.” I drawled, “Your own herald said that you said I could.” I said. Someone snorted. Turning I beheld Anastasia herself. She was peeking out from behind a curtain.
“Anastasia, stop yourself.” Caspian gasped in horror. But it was to late. Anastasia was laughing.
“Hmm..” I said, wondering what was so funny, “Let me see, I have a flying ship and apparently I caused your daughter to laugh, so I am in the contest.” The King looked annoyed.
“Go away.” he said, “While I map out your test. I shall send for you when I am ready.”
“Suits me just fine.” I said. But knowing kings, I knew that he had no intention of sending for us. I would have to play my cards carefully.

Signing off in Haste,
Me

Nineteenth Day of the Gray Time
Kalin burst in on us the following morning while we were eating cold livers and ham chops for breakfast. Or at least I was eating, I swear that the others were doing nothing but fighting. Maybe eating is a little too kind, the food was cooked in some kind of revolting sauce. But I was gagging it down. Swiftfoot snatched up his spoon and hurled it Kalin. The guard ducked easily.
“The only reason you left the audience chamber alive was because the King thought you were all a bunch of fools!” he shouted at us.
“Parch throw this guy out.” Sharp said, “He is annoying me.” This sounded like an ideal suggestion to me.
“And dirty my hands on him?” Parch gasped, “He has some kind of fatal disease.” I inspected Kalin's face. It was scarred and battered from too much war, but it certainly was not diseased.
“Go away, or I shall set my army on you.” Con said as he patted his wood bundle. I rolled my eyes.
“I am just trying to tell you,” Kalin said grimly, “Seventy-five princes have already attempted to win the hand of the Princess Anastasia and all have lost their heads.”
“Yes, but Boots is not a prince.” Deadeye said in a rather smug voice. I glowered at him. What did he know about anything?
“Which means the King will make sure he loses very quickly!” Kalin snarled, “Some of those princes had flying ships, all are dead!”
“Do you have a useful suggestion?” I asked coldly.
“Him?” Sharp snorted.
“Maybe he does.” Hunger murmured timidly. Bale finished his liver and pointed at Sharp.
“The boy is right.” I cried, “Sharp can-” I stopped and glared at Kalin, “Go away, we only eat breakfast with people we like.” Kalin's face turned scarlet, then muttering under his breath about fools, he stalked out of the room.

Signing off,
Me

Twentieth Day of the Gray Time
My plan was to have Sharp listen for the King's demands. It worked wonderfully well. Sharp warned us early this morning that the King had summoned us. So when a messenger came for us we were already waiting at the door. But once more the king had nothing to say. He simply told us that we had to pass a test on the following day, than we were dismissed. I do not like to be dismissed. If I ever have my own kingdom I shall certainly never dismiss anyone so nastily.

Signing off,
Me

Twenty-First Day of the Gray Time
Sharp woke me up at Midnight. I was ready to strangle him until I heard that he had news. Good news! I had discovered the test.
“The old king wants us to run a race.” he said in disgust, “We better prepare Swiftfoot.”
“What sort of race?” I asked with a yawn as I got up.
“A race to the well of life at the very tip of Ashtaran.” My eyes bulged. I was not sure exactly how big Ashtaran was, but it was much bigger then the Glittering Island and that took more then a three days journey to cross on horseback.
“Well, at least we get to see Swiftfoot walk like a normal man.” I said lightly.
“Normal elf you mean.” Sharp growled. I shrugged. Elf or Human, it was all the same to me. Why was Sharp getting annoyed about such trivial details?
“If you say so.” I said dryly, “But the point is, we need to warn him.” We were still trying to get Swiftfoot's leg unbound, when the messengers arrived. I had though that they would surely wait until morning. But apparently not. It was most annoying.
“His majesty King Caspian Suspesian Alvaro Montgore Lemuel Gammon the XV has summoned you to appear on the empty plains between the Shuddering Woods and the City promptly at sunrise.” The messenger ordered, “If you fail you shall lose your head.” What put it into the fifteenth Caspian's head to summon us at midnight? Surely the man was up to some evil. But if he expected us to forget about the summons as soon as the messenger left he was wrong. Sharp and I dragged everyone out of bed and forced them to wait in the Empty Plains. It was the King who was two hours late. Apparently late and early are not the same in Ashtaran as they are on the Glittering Island. My father could give Caspian a lesson in manners. I shall suggest the matter to him once I am safely married to Anastasia. But once Caspian did arrive, everything else went like clockwork. Swiftfoot and his three competitors took off as soon as the handkerchief was dropped. It was dropped by none other then Anastasia herself. Swiftfoot was out of sight before the others had taken more then half a dozen steps. Now all we have to do is sit back and wait.

Signing off with Impatience,
Me

To Be Continued

2 comments:

  1. Oh, boy, I hope the race goes well! :)

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    Replies
    1. Go ahead and find out. The next part has been posted. *evil grin*

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