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He Who Dares: Book Three

Page 20

by Rob Buckman


  “To Avalon of course. They’ll have a new home there, and if they wanted to continue working in the shipyards, we have plenty of places for them to work.”

  “That sounds like a good plan, Mike.”

  They talked for two hours more, making plans as to where to send supplies while they could. At last, they broke for lunch, and Mike excused himself to recycle some used coffee. It was his misfortune to bump into Claude Buntard, the Prime Minister as he stormed out of a doorway down the hall.

  “Get out of my way,” he yelled, pushing past Mike.

  Even taken by surprise, Mike pushed back. “Watch where you are going, you arrogant prick,” Mike growled, putting on his best imitation of Max Tregallion complete with Avalon accent.

  Claude Buntard caught himself from stumbling sideways and turned to glare at the person responsible, something he wasn’t used to. “I’m the PM, you oaf,” he spluttered, unused to people speaking to him in that manner. “Mind your manners when you speak to your betters, whoever you are,” he blustered.

  “Then you shouldn’t walk around pushing people out of your way as if you were somebody really important like a fireman or a doctor.”

  “What! I am important, I’m the Prime Minister. you imbecile!” He spluttered.

  “Oh, that’s who you are, the red-nosed fat bastard as my granddaughter would say,” Mike snorted.

  “What! How dare you… you… colonial bog trotting imbecile. Who do you think you are, daring to call me that?” Buntard spluttered, red faced.

  “Me? I’m no one of any importance, I’m Max Tregallion.” The PM stopped in his tracks, his mouth dropping open in shock. “I’m the owner and president of Avalon you pompous windbag, now get out of my way, lardass.”

  “Max Tregallion… you… you can’t be him… here,” Buntard looked around, as if he didn’t know where he was. “Why are you in Buckingham Palace.” His piggy eyes narrowing in suspicion.

  Mike raised his eyebrow and drew his head back. “Why I am here is none of your damned business, Bluntass.”

  Buntard went red with suppressed anger, “That’s Buntard, you blithering idiot, Claude B-u-n-t-a-r-d! Buntard.”

  Just then the door to the room opened and the King stepped out to see what the argument was about. People rarely raised their voices here.

  “What seems to be the problem?” He asked.

  Mike immediately turned and formally bowed to the King. “I do beg your pardon, your Majesty, but this… person can’t remember his own name. If he checks the back of his underwear, I’m sure his mother wrote it there so he wouldn’t forget, besides which, you’d think he owned the place by the way he was blundering around.”

  The bow didn’t go unnoticed by Buntard, and he sniffed in disdain. To him, this was nothing more than another example of the bowing and scraping that went on in front of the King.

  “Apology accepted Mr. Tregallion, and you, Prime Minister?”

  “I… I was just on my way out then this… fellow barged into me,” he spluttered.

  “I doubt that, seeing that Mr. Tregallion is over one hundred and fifty years old. I think he’s well past the age where he would be barging around at any time. You are dismissed Buntard.” The King turned his back and took Max by the arm and led him into the sitting room adding, “now that I have a moment, shall we continue our private conversation?”

  “By all means, your Majesty.” Mike answered, bowing slightly. Buntard’s face turned even redder with suppressed rage at the implied insult, and stormed off down the passageway. Thankfully he was too far away to hear the sound of laughter coming from the sitting room.

  “Sorry about that, Mike, but I can’t say I’m displeased. I detest that pompous ass. The sooner we have a general election and vote that idiot out, the better.”

  “Thank the Lord we didn’t go down that path on Avalon.”

  The King chuckled, “I suspect you have his equivalent on Avalon.”

  “True, but they don’t stay around long, and usually re-emigrate to less hostile star systems.”

  “Less hazardous to their health.”

  “Yes, sir. I do apologize for disturbing you.”

  The King patted him on the shoulder as he handed him a large envelope. “Here it is, Michael, use it as you will.”

  “Thank you for placing your trust in me, your Majesty,” Mike answered, rubbing his thumb over the envelope, knowing it contained the Letter of Marque.

  “Think nothing of it, my boy,” he stopped and looked at Mike as he was about to leave, “of course, saying that to a man that looks the age you do is something of a misnomer.” And with that, he was gone.

  Mike found the bathroom with a sigh of relief, finding it a little difficult to unzip his pants with the fake belly in the way. He washed his hands and strode back to the dining room for lunch. All the usual suspects were there, and they had a lively conversation about the merits of a representative government as opposed to a constitutional monarch.

  “So how would you defend your form of government, Mike?” The Princess Royal asked with a laugh.

  “On that, besides taking the Fifth Amendment, I’ll quote the famous American statesman Benjamin Franklin by saying that our form of government follows his principal, and I quote, Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to have for lunch. Liberty is a well-armed lamb contesting the results of the vote. On Avalon, all the lambs are armed to the teeth.

  “Well said, Michael, and so it should be. To date, no civilization has found a way to contain their governments overreach over a long period of time except by revolution,” the King observed in agreement.

  “Yes, sir. We are a young democracy, so who’s to say what it will be like in three to four hundred years.”

  “Michael. If your people stick to their guns, no pun intended. I don’t see where any future government can alter the basic principles you started… I mean Max Tregallion started,” he added with a smile.

  “I for one will be glad when he takes the disguise off. It's very disconcerting talking to him dressed like that,” Anne huffed. The King smiled and said nothing.

  In all, they played the game with other visiting dignitaries and guests, shaking hands, smiling, saying all the right things until the evening when the last one departed.

  At last, the palace doors closed for the day, and barring any unforeseen disasters, there wouldn’t be anyone else visiting. Even Seaford and company left citing pressing business elsewhere, leaving the royal family and their two remaining guests alone for the evening. They chatted for a while over coffee and brandy, before the King and the crown prince excused themselves to go off about their own business. That left the Princess Anne and Mike to entertain themselves as best they could. Jenks had vanished somewhere, feeling it safe to leave Mike in the company of the Princess Royal.

  Princess Anne nibbled her lower lip, looking at the door of the sitting room, then at Mike. “Um… how long would it be proper, and within the bounds of decorum before we can say goodnight and go upstairs to our separate bedrooms?” She asked, her hungry eyes locked on Mike.

  “Well, your Royal Highness, that would depend on several factors,” he started to say, “especially if you take into account where we are, your father, and…” Was all he managed to say before Anne’s lips were locked on his the moment she landed in his lap, and her …oh shut up and kiss me you fool... was lost in the rustle of her satin dress and sighs of contentment.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he managed to say as they came up for air before she silenced him again with her lips. In the end, they disengaged, and a few moments later, after straightening their clothes, walked out of the room as if nothing had happened. As they ascended in the lift, Princess Anne coughed softly.

  “Did you know, Mr.Tregallion, that even after all these years, I sometimes get lost in this building?”

  “Is that so, milady?”

  “Oh yes, several times I’ve ended up in the wrong bed.”

  “You don’t say. How um… un
fortunate for the person occupying the bed.”

  “Yes, it is, I supposed, but then again, one bed is much the same as any other bed in the palace,” she remarked.

  “I shall have to check my bed carefully before I go to sleep, just in case you happen to be in the wrong room.”

  “Yes, you should.” Both smiled as the lift reached the fourth floor, and Mike graciously kissed her hand and bid her good night.

  Mike took his time, and carefully removed the skin mask and his disguise, as he’d need it tomorrow, thankful to get out of it. He took a moment to unseal the ornate envelope containing the Letter of Marque and briefly read it.

  Letter of Marque

  (1. Thomas Bradford, Baronet, (Minister of Defense, Commander in Chief of all His Majesty’s Forces) Admiral Rawlings (Admiral of the Fleet) Richard Windsor (King Richard IV of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and its Commonwealth).

  To (2. Michael Bear) Captain Michael Bear, Esq. Greetings.

  Whereas the (3. King Louis Philippe) King Emperor of the Sirrien Empire, dated at Nueva Versailles the 20th of April 2265, commanded his respective Governors in Nueva Versailles to publish and make War against our Sovereign Lord the King in these Parts.

  And Whereas (4. Captain General) Charles Phillippe Prince of the Realm, Bayona de Villa Nueva, Commander in Chief of all His King Emperors Forces, hath executed the same, and lately in the most hostile and barbarous manner landed his men on numerous worlds, and entered a small way into the country, firing all the houses they came at, killing or taking prisoners all the inhabitants they could meet with; and where as the rest of the Governors in these Parts have granted Commissions for executing the like hostility against us, and are diligently gathering Forces together to be sent to other major star systems, and from thence as the most opportune place to be transported for a thoro' Invasion and final conquest (as they hope) of this system.

  In discharge of the great trust which His Gracious Majesty hath placed in me, I do by virtue of full Power and Authority of such cases from His Royal Highness, Richard Windsor – King Richard III of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and its Commonwealth, His Majesty’s Lord High Admiral, derived unto me, and out of the great confidence I have in the good conduct, courage, and fidelity of you the said Captain Michael Bear, Esq. to be Commander in chief of all the Ships, and other Vessels now fitted, or which hereafter shall be fitted for the public Service and defense of this star system, and also of the Officers, Soldiers, and Seamen, which are, or shall be put upon the same, requiring you to use your best endeavors to get the vessels into one Body or Fleet, and to cause them to be Well man’d, fitted, armed, and victualled, and by the first opportunity permitting, to put to Space for the Guard and Defence of this and other star systems, and of all vessels trading to or about the same; and in order thereunto to use your best endeavors to surprise, take, damage, disperse, and destroy all the enemies ships or vessels which shall come within your view.

  And also for preventing the intended Invasion against this place, you are hereby further authorized and required, in the case that you and your Officers in your Judgment find it possible, or feasible to destroy any and all warships and ports, and orbiting stations or any other place belonging to the Enemies, where you shall be informed that Magazines and Stores for this War are laid up, or where any rendezvous for their forces to embody are appointed and there to use your best endeavors for the seizing the said Stores, and to take, kill, and disperse the said Forces.

  And all Officers, Soldiers, and Seaman, who are or shall be belonging to or embarqued upon the said vessels are hereby strictly enjoined both by space and Land, to obey you as their Commander in chief of in all things as be cometh there and you yourself are to observe and follow all such orders as you shall from time to time receive from His most excellent Majesty, His Royal Highness, or persons so designated to act in my stead.

  Signed this 8 day of June in the year of our lord, 2265.

  Richard Rex.

  The King was right; this rather long-winded and archaically worded document gave him carte blanche to do whatever his wanted in the King’s name. It was some responsibility, especially seeing that he only had one ship at the moment. Mike smiled at the archaic wording, suspecting they’d dug up and used an old ‘Letter of Marque’ as the template for this one. After that, he undressed and took a long hot shower, and wrapping a towel around his waist he padded silently into the darkened bedroom. It was no surprise to find someone else already occupying his bed, and dropping the towel, slid in beside her.

  “Well, Well, Well. It would appear your ladyship has lost her way again,” he whispered

  “I know. How silly of me,” was all she managed to say before Mike found her lips with his. Like Gramps was fond of saying …there’s a time for talking and a time for doing… Mike got to doing.

  Several hours later, they lay snuggled together resting. Anne looked at Mike’s face, the outline softened by the moonlight streaming in the window. “So that’s what you do to poor lost maidens who happen to get into the wrong bed.” She giggled very unladylike. Hearing that, Mike let out a soft laugh.

  “It’s rather like the old English folk song, m’lady.”

  “Which one?’ Mike began to hum the tune, but she didn’t recognize it until he started singing very softly.

  ♫When I was a bachelor, I liv'd all alone

  I worked at the weaver's trade

  and the only, only thing that I ever did wrong

  was to woo a fair young maid.

  I wooed her in the wintertime

  and in the summer, too

  and the only, only thing that I did that was wrong

  was to save her from the foggy, foggy dew.

  One night she came to my bedside

  when I lay fast asleep.

  She laid her head upon my bed

  and she began to weep.

  She sighed, she cried, she damn near died

  She said what shall I do?

  So I hauled her into bed and covered up her head

  Just to save her from the foggy foggy dew.

  So, I am a bachelor, I live with my son

  and we work at the weaver's trade.

  And every single time that I look into his eyes,

  He reminds me of that fair young maid.

  He reminds me of the wintertime

  and of the summer, too,

  and of the many, many times that I held her in my arms…….

  Just to save her from the foggy…. foggy…. dew.♫

  Anne dived under the covers to muffle her laughter. “You’re a bad man, Mike Gray,” she said, peeking out from under the covers.

  “Me! What did I do?” He chuckled.

  “Because, every time I hear the word ‘maid’, I’m going to start giggling.” She giggled again. “See what I mean.”

  “Not if someone is kissing you.” And he did.

  It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that Anne left the warmth of Mike’s arms and bed and tiptoed to her bedroom, slipping between the cold sheets with a sigh of regret, wishing she could stay with Mike, and to say to hell with pretending, but she knew she couldn’t. Her father knew, as did her maid and one of the pages, but as far as anyone else was concerned, including Seaford and the rest, they thought it was just a romance. As she drifted back to sleep, she wished for the day when she could make this public and tell the whole wide world that Michael Tregallion-Gray was her lover and husband to be.

  Humming to himself, Mike brushed his salt and pepper hair, thinking about Max. His hair was still a dark blond and not salt and pepper, like Max. Mike had toned his hair because people here on Earth expected a one hundred and fifty year old man to look one hundred and fifty years old. Thankfully, Max would never see this parody of himself, and knowing how grumpy he got sometimes, that might be a good thing. He applied the skin mask and made sure it was in place before walking into the bedroom, still humming foggy, foggy dew, to himself and smiling.

  �
�You sound chipper this morning, Skipper,” Jenks called as he moved around tidying things up as usual.

  “You sound decidedly happy this morning as well,” he replied as he walked in wearing nothing but his underwear. Jenks held up the padded under suit, and with a frown of displeasure, Mike put it on.

  “Yes, it is a bright morning this morning, isn’t it, Skipper.”

  “Where did you vanish too before dinner, by the way?”

  “Oh that. Well, you were off the hob knobbing with the King and all, so I thought I’d nip down to the kitchen and have a bite to eat with the downstairs folk is all.”

  “Pull the middle one, it’s got a bell on it,” Mike growled, “What else did you get up to?”

  “Who me?” Jenks sounded a little outraged, then smiled, “Well, I did meet this rather nice lady downstairs who offered me a place to lay my weary head, so I took her up on it.”

  “I just bet you did,” he laughed. “I’d better finish getting dressed. We are expected down for breakfast, and this time, my old son, you will be there. That’s an order.” Jenks smiled and wiped a fake tear away from his eye.

  “My dear old mum would be so proud. Me having breakfast with the King. How about that… Oh! You think we should tell Taffy about this. You know he’s going to go on about it for ages.”

  “We’ll live with it. Where's my jacket?”

  Mike wasn’t the only one humming this morning, and Mary, her maid said so. ”You sound happy this morning, my Annie. Not like your usual moody self.”

  “I’m not moody… just a little preoccupied with something,” she grinned.

  “So tell Mary what you have been up to then.”

  “Need you ask when that man is in the house… Oh, wait. You don’t know.” Mary looked startled.

  “You mean you went to bed… with his great grandfather… Oh my goodness.”

  She spluttered, holding her hand to her mouth, “No, you silly goose. That’s Mike in disguise.” She laughed at the expression on Mary’s’ face.

  “Thank goodness for that. I mean to say, going to bed with an old goat…” She stopped as Anne cocked an eyebrow at her. “Nice old grandfather type,” she finished.

 

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