Who wants to be a king, anyway?
The king went back to his bedchamber after a wonderful dinner, but he had been too deep in thought and moody to enjoy any of it. Though he looked out the balcony again, the handiwork of the angels, and Talonblaze, were gone. After he blew out the candle, Conrad was laying in the dark with his satin cover pulled over his head, in his favorite sleeping fashion. He gritted his teeth in frustration. That whole business with Talonblaze was aggravating. It was plain that the dragon had only shown up to mock him. He sat up and slammed his fist into his bed. Frustrated, he knew that he was practically helpless to stop anything that the dragon wanted to do. He lay back with such force that the whole bed frame shook. He started to calm down as he thought about the talk with Jeff out on the balcony. It had help him decide that he was, in fact, going to Florin the next day or the day after at the latest, to the castle of King Richard to find out more about Arabella. He would still be wary of Richard of course, and if anything fishy began to happen, he was out.
The next day was filled with excitement and activity as the servants tried to pack fast enough to suit their king's pace. Conrad rushed around yelling at unfortunate servants, asking why on earth they were packing that, and through it all, trying to get the gold circlet to stay on his head (he never wore it) as it slipped all over the place. It was obviously not made for him. The first time it fell off, it rolled down into a grate and into the dungeon and landed on one of the metal spikes on a torture rack. 'Lovely,' he thought. Since all the servants were needed for the packing for the trip to Florin, he had to go down and fetch the circlet himself (stomping all the way, of course), though he would have rather let it stay down there: he hated the thing so. The second time, it tumbled from the third floor landing and it plopped in a batch of bread dough that the cook was about to shove into the oven for the trip. Before Conrad could stop him, the dough was in the oven and the circlet was baked in the bread, though, truth to be told, he did not try very hard to get it back. After this episode, King Conrad was perfectly happy to leave the crown in the treasure room contrary to the popular opinion of the rest of the castle's occupants who stated that a king was always supposed to wear a crown. Conrad shoved the black shock of hair out of his eyes that were glinting with frustration and burning with green fire for the umpteenth time and, with sarcastic anger, stated "Listen all of you! Why should I have to wear it? The hell-wrought thing doesn't even fit. Can't I wear what I like? I mean, I'm only the king. But even that wasn't my choice! You think I wanna be king? Who wants to be a king? Well, I guess so I can say this and be obeyed. Put a cork in it!" With that, he gave a look to kill all around the great hall from the top of the stairs. The servants did put a cork in it, much to the thankfulness of the king. That night, the king went to his bed feeling tired, but satisfied, though at the same time aggravated and annoyed. He had gotten all the arrangements taken care of, and had finally bucked the whole crown issue, permanently, he hoped. But his plans had been delayed another day. And Talonblaze was still on the loose after killing another of his knights and eating the chickens of twenty farms. 'Tomorrow,' he thought to himself laying flat on his back and staring up into the darkness, 'things will really start happening.' He had no idea. Two hours before dawn, Conrad awoke with a start and leaped out of bed. This day, he would get out of this stuffy castle. He quickly realized that none of his servants were awake. He ran about the castle kicking and berating sleeping forms until they realized they were subject to their king's wrath. At dawn, after threatening to behead and murder most of his castle servants for numerous reasons, Conrad was galloping along the dusty path on his horse of chestnut brown. He loved the sensation of flying through the air with his horse's jet-black mane and tail whipping in the wind. He also loved riding because his hair didn't get in the way of his vision. He had named his mare Lightning, because she had been born during the biggest storm of his time. A monstrous bolt of lightning struck one of his castle turrets in the gale. The turret still hadn't been fixed, giving his castle a sort of lopsided, roguish look, much like himself, in a way. When the sun was at it's zenith, Conrad called a stop for lunch next to a small brook at the fringe of a forest. As he sat on a rock covered in soft moss munching a small meat pie, he happened to notice the dark, heavy, thick looking storm clouds rolling in from the north. He called to his servants, "Pack up, gents! There's going to be a storm. I know of a house in the forest where we can find shelter. Follow!"
As Conrad and his band of men made for the trees, rain poured in torrents and a resounding clap of thunder filled the air. The biggest bolt of lightning, only second to the one at Lightning's birth, split the air and hit a tree not ten feet from where Conrad was. He felt his hair at the nape of his neck prickle as Lightning reared and screamed in terror. Conrad managed to stay on his horse. He didn't even have time to be afraid as he issued orders to move into the safety of the trees. Remembering the location of the empty house, he directed his men there.
They huddled in the abandoned house. The king counted his men, and, realizing that all were present, Unrolled his blankets and stretched out on the floor, falling asleep almost immediately. Sometime during the night, a tremendous shock of thunder shook the house to its very foundations. Conrad and Jeff jerked awake. They stared at each other through the dark, each remembering the many times that they, as young boys, crawled into their parents bed during nights of freakish storms. But now was long past from the time that their father had been King of Shara and not Conrad. A formidably long time. Their father was dead, and mother too, and neither of them wanted to bring that painful history to the present day. They lay back, each of them hoping that the morning would be better than this fearful night was.
Dawn awoke the travelers, and after a short breakfast, they resumed their trip to Florin. It was a more agreeable journey through grassland, except for the threat of the dragon, but they were making good time. At dusk they arrived at the castle of Florin where King Richard lived. Conrad braced himself for whatever met them at Richard's castle.
As King Conrad and his men rode up to King Richard's castle, a rude, impudent voice shouted out, "Who goes there?" Conrad hollered back, "Only King Conrad, of Shara, by the Great Mountains, unless it puts you out." "Enter, my lord," replied the voice with a bit more respect, but not much. As the giant drawbridge lowered, Conrad and his men rode across into the cobblestoned, respectable courtyard of Richard. Conrad found himself staring into a well-tended herb garden, and the main doors to a well-sized castle. Then he saw King Richard himself walking quickly out to greet him. "Ah, King Conrad. A pleasure to see you after so long! Come, come into my private quarters so we can discuss our matters in secrecy. I'm sorry I can't provide any better service for you." Then, in a whisper,
"I'll explain everything to you inside." Then Richard began a quick march toward his fine castle. Conrad leaned over to Jeff and said, "We've never met him before." When they got inside, Richard told Conrad to dismiss his private bodyguard of knights, but Conrad insisted upon taking Jeffery with him, though. Richard relented with a sigh. He then turned down a stairwell that was covered in dust and cobwebs. Conrad felt at home.
They arrived in King Richard's private sitting room, and he bid them sit down in two cushioned chairs, which they did gladly. Then he cut to the chase.
"Now, Conrad, I have had trust and alliance with you before. I assume that we are still in agreement in this?" Conrad nodded, and crossed his legs and waited for him to continue. "As you know, this problem is concerning my daughter, Arabella. She is my most favored daughter and if she died, I would- well, I couldn't live anymore. I presume that you know what I mean when I say that." "Yes," Conrad said, gazing briefly at Jeff, who returned the glance, "I do actually." If King Richard noticed he gave no indication of it. The king sighed. "If I wasn't aging, I would go after her and slay the evil being holding her, threatening to kill her, my beloved," he moaned, almost to himself. Jeffery leaned forward in his chair, captivated. "My lord," Jeffery said with interest, "What beast has your daughter in its grasp?" The old king looked up. "Why a dragon! The most evil of beasts, and this is the most wicked of all. He has trapped her in a cave, and is refusing to let her out forever!" Conrad gave an involuntary gasp, which caused the king and Jeffery to look at him with curiosity.
"I will go and save her. My king, where is this foul beast residing?" "I'm not sure, but-" Just then a tremendous crash came from the kitchens, and a resounding roar burst from above, accompanied by a giant tail crashing through the roof of Richard's sitting room. Conrad stared at the hole in the roof for a moment, and then without hesitation, jumped up onto the roof. He saw a flying form a ways off, and knew what it was. The dragon. It circled back as Jeff and the king called up to him, but he was concentrating too hard to hear them. He quickly reached for the long piece of rope that hung at his belt. He grasped one end of it and waited tensely for the dragon to fly by again. Fifty feet away, twenty, ten, now! Conrad swung the rope around one of the colossal hind feet of the beast and hung on for dear life. He realize that his brother was right along side him on the opposite hind foot yelling and clinging to his own rope like a monkey. Conrad grinned and shook his head. Little brothers, never wanting out miss out on a good fight.
The king went back to his bedchamber after a wonderful dinner, but he had been too deep in thought and moody to enjoy any of it. Though he looked out the balcony again, the handiwork of the angels, and Talonblaze, were gone. After he blew out the candle, Conrad was laying in the dark with his satin cover pulled over his head, in his favorite sleeping fashion. He gritted his teeth in frustration. That whole business with Talonblaze was aggravating. It was plain that the dragon had only shown up to mock him. He sat up and slammed his fist into his bed. Frustrated, he knew that he was practically helpless to stop anything that the dragon wanted to do. He lay back with such force that the whole bed frame shook. He started to calm down as he thought about the talk with Jeff out on the balcony. It had help him decide that he was, in fact, going to Florin the next day or the day after at the latest, to the castle of King Richard to find out more about Arabella. He would still be wary of Richard of course, and if anything fishy began to happen, he was out.
The next day was filled with excitement and activity as the servants tried to pack fast enough to suit their king's pace. Conrad rushed around yelling at unfortunate servants, asking why on earth they were packing that, and through it all, trying to get the gold circlet to stay on his head (he never wore it) as it slipped all over the place. It was obviously not made for him. The first time it fell off, it rolled down into a grate and into the dungeon and landed on one of the metal spikes on a torture rack. 'Lovely,' he thought. Since all the servants were needed for the packing for the trip to Florin, he had to go down and fetch the circlet himself (stomping all the way, of course), though he would have rather let it stay down there: he hated the thing so. The second time, it tumbled from the third floor landing and it plopped in a batch of bread dough that the cook was about to shove into the oven for the trip. Before Conrad could stop him, the dough was in the oven and the circlet was baked in the bread, though, truth to be told, he did not try very hard to get it back. After this episode, King Conrad was perfectly happy to leave the crown in the treasure room contrary to the popular opinion of the rest of the castle's occupants who stated that a king was always supposed to wear a crown. Conrad shoved the black shock of hair out of his eyes that were glinting with frustration and burning with green fire for the umpteenth time and, with sarcastic anger, stated "Listen all of you! Why should I have to wear it? The hell-wrought thing doesn't even fit. Can't I wear what I like? I mean, I'm only the king. But even that wasn't my choice! You think I wanna be king? Who wants to be a king? Well, I guess so I can say this and be obeyed. Put a cork in it!" With that, he gave a look to kill all around the great hall from the top of the stairs. The servants did put a cork in it, much to the thankfulness of the king. That night, the king went to his bed feeling tired, but satisfied, though at the same time aggravated and annoyed. He had gotten all the arrangements taken care of, and had finally bucked the whole crown issue, permanently, he hoped. But his plans had been delayed another day. And Talonblaze was still on the loose after killing another of his knights and eating the chickens of twenty farms. 'Tomorrow,' he thought to himself laying flat on his back and staring up into the darkness, 'things will really start happening.' He had no idea. Two hours before dawn, Conrad awoke with a start and leaped out of bed. This day, he would get out of this stuffy castle. He quickly realized that none of his servants were awake. He ran about the castle kicking and berating sleeping forms until they realized they were subject to their king's wrath. At dawn, after threatening to behead and murder most of his castle servants for numerous reasons, Conrad was galloping along the dusty path on his horse of chestnut brown. He loved the sensation of flying through the air with his horse's jet-black mane and tail whipping in the wind. He also loved riding because his hair didn't get in the way of his vision. He had named his mare Lightning, because she had been born during the biggest storm of his time. A monstrous bolt of lightning struck one of his castle turrets in the gale. The turret still hadn't been fixed, giving his castle a sort of lopsided, roguish look, much like himself, in a way. When the sun was at it's zenith, Conrad called a stop for lunch next to a small brook at the fringe of a forest. As he sat on a rock covered in soft moss munching a small meat pie, he happened to notice the dark, heavy, thick looking storm clouds rolling in from the north. He called to his servants, "Pack up, gents! There's going to be a storm. I know of a house in the forest where we can find shelter. Follow!"
As Conrad and his band of men made for the trees, rain poured in torrents and a resounding clap of thunder filled the air. The biggest bolt of lightning, only second to the one at Lightning's birth, split the air and hit a tree not ten feet from where Conrad was. He felt his hair at the nape of his neck prickle as Lightning reared and screamed in terror. Conrad managed to stay on his horse. He didn't even have time to be afraid as he issued orders to move into the safety of the trees. Remembering the location of the empty house, he directed his men there.
They huddled in the abandoned house. The king counted his men, and, realizing that all were present, Unrolled his blankets and stretched out on the floor, falling asleep almost immediately. Sometime during the night, a tremendous shock of thunder shook the house to its very foundations. Conrad and Jeff jerked awake. They stared at each other through the dark, each remembering the many times that they, as young boys, crawled into their parents bed during nights of freakish storms. But now was long past from the time that their father had been King of Shara and not Conrad. A formidably long time. Their father was dead, and mother too, and neither of them wanted to bring that painful history to the present day. They lay back, each of them hoping that the morning would be better than this fearful night was.
Dawn awoke the travelers, and after a short breakfast, they resumed their trip to Florin. It was a more agreeable journey through grassland, except for the threat of the dragon, but they were making good time. At dusk they arrived at the castle of Florin where King Richard lived. Conrad braced himself for whatever met them at Richard's castle.
As King Conrad and his men rode up to King Richard's castle, a rude, impudent voice shouted out, "Who goes there?" Conrad hollered back, "Only King Conrad, of Shara, by the Great Mountains, unless it puts you out." "Enter, my lord," replied the voice with a bit more respect, but not much. As the giant drawbridge lowered, Conrad and his men rode across into the cobblestoned, respectable courtyard of Richard. Conrad found himself staring into a well-tended herb garden, and the main doors to a well-sized castle. Then he saw King Richard himself walking quickly out to greet him. "Ah, King Conrad. A pleasure to see you after so long! Come, come into my private quarters so we can discuss our matters in secrecy. I'm sorry I can't provide any better service for you." Then, in a whisper,
"I'll explain everything to you inside." Then Richard began a quick march toward his fine castle. Conrad leaned over to Jeff and said, "We've never met him before." When they got inside, Richard told Conrad to dismiss his private bodyguard of knights, but Conrad insisted upon taking Jeffery with him, though. Richard relented with a sigh. He then turned down a stairwell that was covered in dust and cobwebs. Conrad felt at home.
They arrived in King Richard's private sitting room, and he bid them sit down in two cushioned chairs, which they did gladly. Then he cut to the chase.
"Now, Conrad, I have had trust and alliance with you before. I assume that we are still in agreement in this?" Conrad nodded, and crossed his legs and waited for him to continue. "As you know, this problem is concerning my daughter, Arabella. She is my most favored daughter and if she died, I would- well, I couldn't live anymore. I presume that you know what I mean when I say that." "Yes," Conrad said, gazing briefly at Jeff, who returned the glance, "I do actually." If King Richard noticed he gave no indication of it. The king sighed. "If I wasn't aging, I would go after her and slay the evil being holding her, threatening to kill her, my beloved," he moaned, almost to himself. Jeffery leaned forward in his chair, captivated. "My lord," Jeffery said with interest, "What beast has your daughter in its grasp?" The old king looked up. "Why a dragon! The most evil of beasts, and this is the most wicked of all. He has trapped her in a cave, and is refusing to let her out forever!" Conrad gave an involuntary gasp, which caused the king and Jeffery to look at him with curiosity.
"I will go and save her. My king, where is this foul beast residing?" "I'm not sure, but-" Just then a tremendous crash came from the kitchens, and a resounding roar burst from above, accompanied by a giant tail crashing through the roof of Richard's sitting room. Conrad stared at the hole in the roof for a moment, and then without hesitation, jumped up onto the roof. He saw a flying form a ways off, and knew what it was. The dragon. It circled back as Jeff and the king called up to him, but he was concentrating too hard to hear them. He quickly reached for the long piece of rope that hung at his belt. He grasped one end of it and waited tensely for the dragon to fly by again. Fifty feet away, twenty, ten, now! Conrad swung the rope around one of the colossal hind feet of the beast and hung on for dear life. He realize that his brother was right along side him on the opposite hind foot yelling and clinging to his own rope like a monkey. Conrad grinned and shook his head. Little brothers, never wanting out miss out on a good fight.