Sebastian Darke: Prince of Fools

by Philip Caveney

  'Greetings, pilgrims,' said the manling, in that deep, resonant voice, which really didn't suit the face at all. 'I am Captain Cornelius Drummel, killer of Brigands, formally of the army of Queen Annisett.' He paused for a moment as though allowing this information to sink in; but getting no response, he continued, 'I see by the writing on your caravan that I am in the presence of Sebastian Darke, Prince of Fools.'

  'Correct,' said Sebastian, making a formal bow.

  'And Max,' added Max. 'His partner!'

  Cornelius gave the buffalope a slightly perturbed look. 'You have a fine fire,' he observed. 'Visible at quite a distance. Not the most advisable thing in a remote spot like this, but a man must take his chances.' He reached back a hand and threw the plump body of the javralat to the ground at Sebastian's feet. 'I wonder if you'd allow me to cook my dinner over your fire? I've supped on raw meat these last few nights and I'm longing for something hot.'

  Sebastian frowned. 'Well . . .'

  'Of course, I'd be happy to share the food with you.'

  Sebastian's eyes nearly popped out of his head. 'Then you . . . you would be most welcome!' he replied. 'And I would be more than willing to accept your generous offer.' He sheathed his sword and extended a hand to shake. The stranger took it in a powerful grip that made Sebastian wince and pumped it vigorously up and down.

  'Watch him,' murmured Max under his breath. 'It's some kind of trick . . .'

  Sebastian waved a dismissive hand at Max. 'Please, er . . . Captain Drummel. Make yourself comfortable.'

  'Call me Cornelius. We're not on the parade ground now.'

  'No, of course not. I – I've a metal spit in the caravan, it won't take but a moment to find it—'

  'Don't turn your back on him!' hissed Max, then shut up as he noticed the newcomer glaring at him.

  'He's a talkative one, your buffalope,' observed Cornelius as he unbuckled his breastplate. 'Most of them can barely string a sentence together but this one is quite eloquent.'

  'Umm . . . yes, he's been in our family for years. My father taught him to speak.' Sebastian shot Max a withering look. 'Unfortunately.' He hurried across to the caravan and rummaged amongst the piles of junk that were heaped in the back. 'I don't pay him much attention. He likes to prattle on, you know, but he's harmless enough.'

  The manling didn't seem convinced by this and Max looked positively disgusted.

  'Oh, please, do continue to talk about me as though I'm not here,' he said. He glared at Sebastian. 'And don't say I didn't warn you.' He lowered his huge head onto his front legs and looked away, as though absolving himself of any responsibility.

  'Aha!' Sebastian had finally found what he was looking for – an iron frame that slotted together to make a sturdy revolving spit that would roast the meat evenly over the flames. He hauled it out of the caravan, brought it across to the fire and, crouching down, started assembling it. 'This should do the job,' he said. He was so excited at the thought of eating hot meat that his hands were shaking.

  'Excellent,' said Cornelius. He set his breastplate aside and flexed his arms and shoulders with a sigh of relief. 'Ah, that's better. I've been walking since first light. Well, let's get down to business.' He pulled a fearsome-looking knife from his belt and Sebastian froze in terror.

  'What did I tell you?' hissed Max. 'I said he wasn't to be trusted!'

  Cornelius gave the buffalope another strange look, then turned to the carcass of the javralat. 'I'll prepare this fellow for cooking, shall I?' he said.

  Sebastian let out a sigh of relief. As he watched, Cornelius expertly skinned and gutted the javralat with a few flicks of the finely honed blade. He flung the entrails into the bushes, wiped the knife on his trousers, then handed the skinned carcass to Sebastian.

  'These are the only things worth eating that I've found on these blasted flat lands,' he said. 'They're damned hard to catch, though. You have to sit stock-still by the entrance to one of their burrows, and when they finally stick their heads out . . .' He made a brief chopping gesture with the flat of one hand.

  Max winced. 'What a world,' he said. 'One minute you're running happily across the plains, the next you're on some?body's dinner plate.'

  'This is a lawless place,' growled Cornelius. 'It's kill or be killed out here – and there are plenty of creatures stalking the night that would think nothing of putting us on the menu.'

  'Yes, we were just discussing lupers when you arrived,' said Sebastian.

  'I'm not talking about them, although they can be bad enough.' He sat himself cross-legged beside the fire and held out his hands to warm them. 'No, I speak of the grundersnat.'

  'The . . . what?'

  'The grundersnat. Oh, a fearsome beast by all accounts. A huge leathery-winged creature with row upon row of razor-sharp teeth and vicious claws that can tear their way through just about anything.'

  Max looked terrified. 'You . . . haven't seen one, have you?'

  'No, but I've heard it in the night. A hellish bellowing sound that could turn the blood in your veins to ice. They say if the grundersnat sets eyes on you, it will not give up until it has you in its belly'

  Max's eyes got very big and round. 'Oh, that's marvellous!' he said. 'And to think we were nice and safe back there in our old homestead. But no, the young master said we were to go to Keladon and that was that. Nobody mentioned lupers and cannibals and flesh-eating monsters with razor-sharp teeth!'

  Sebastian occupied himself with getting the javralat onto the spit. Within a few moments he had the creature impaled and was turning it around over the crackling flames. Almost instantly, an appetizing aroma began to fill the air. 'Smells good,' he observed brightly.

  'It certainly does,' agreed Max. 'And as a lifelong vegetarian, I can hardly believe I'm saying that! But . . . supposing the grundersnat smells it and comes looking for some supper?'

  'We'll just have to take our chances,' said Cornelius; and he gave Sebastian a sly wink.

  Sebastian resumed his seat by the fire, opposite Cornelius. 'You'll take a cup of elvish coffee?' he suggested.

  'By Shadlog's beard, I will! My tongue is near cleaved to my mouth with thirst. They told me that I'd encounter streams out here but I haven't found one in three days of walking.'

  'Is that so?' murmured Max. 'Well, well – no water, eh?'

  Sebastian ignored him. 'We are without milk, I'm afraid. But I can offer you a little bee's gold to sweeten the cup.'

  'You are most kind, sir. I am in your debt.' Cornelius clasped the proffered mug in his big hands and took a sip. He smacked his lips in appreciation.

  'Well, this is a most welcome meeting,' he said. 'There was I, thinking that I would cross this plain without encountering a single person. Now here I sit, sipping coffee and enjoying good conversation. And I have no doubt that I am in for an evening of fine jest and merriment.'

  Sebastian stared at him blankly. 'I'm sorry?'

  'You are a jester, are you not? So I can surely anticipate some hilarity.'

  'He's obviously never heard your jokes,' murmured Max.

  'Or is it perhaps a double act I've found?' ventured Cornelius.

  'Oh, Max never misses an opportunity to have his say,' agreed Sebastian. 'But no, I work alone.' He attempted to steer the conversation in another direction. 'So, Captain, where are you headed?'

  'My destination is the city of Keladon.'

  'Ours too! I go to offer my services as jester to King Septimus.'

  Cornelius nodded approvingly. 'And I go to enlist in his army! Well, well, we have much in common. Perhaps we would do well to travel together. My sword would come in handy should Brigands attack. And I would pay my way by keeping the larder well stocked. Nobody is better than I at catching javralats.'

  'That sounds like a great idea,' enthused Sebastian.

  'Easy for you to say,' snorted Max. 'You won't be the one pulling the extra weight!'

  'Max!' Sebastian smiled apologetically at Cornelius. 'He doesn't mean that – he's just feeling a b
it cranky. Where have you travelled from? You mentioned a Queen Annisett, I believe?'

  1 did, sir. The proud and beautiful Queen Annisett of the kingdom of Golmira, jewelled city of the North. Have you ever had the opportunity to visit it?'

  'We've never heard of it,' said Max bluntly.

  Cornelius chose to ignore the remark. He sat back and smiled. 'Oh, it is a fine and prosperous place. I enlisted in the army there as a young man of eighteen summers and steadily worked my way through the ranks to the post of Captain. I had a fine regiment of men under me and together we fought many epic battles against the neighbouring kingdom of Tannis. My men were willing to put their lives at my command and I was ready to give mine for them. I don't believe there was a happier man in all of Golmira.'

  There was a long silence, during which Sebastian became aware of the chirruping of insects in the bushes behind them.

  Then Max said, 'So what went wrong?'

  'Who said anything did?' snarled Cornelius.

  'Well, nobody. But if everything was so wonderful in Golmira, why are you headed for Keladon?'

  Cornelius's face darkened and he glared into his mug of coffee. 'Because something happened,' he said. 'Something . . . stupid.'

  Sebastian and Max waited patiently to hear what it was. Finally Max had to prompt Cornelius.

  'Please feel free to share it with us.'

  'Some . . . meddling pen-pusher . . . some blithering jumped-up idiot . . . pushed through a proclamation stating that every enlisted man in the queen's army had to be . . .'

  'Yes?' said Sebastian.

  '. . . had to be . . . well, of a certain height.'

  'Oh,' said Max and Sebastian together.

  Cornelius sat there staring into his coffee mug as though he might find an answer to his troubles in those dark brown depths. It was clear to Sebastian that the little man was fighting with a conflict within himself. Clearly he didn't really want to talk about this; at the same time, he quite obviously needed to discuss it with someone.

  'I mean, it was ridiculous! My exploits spoke for them?selves. I had slain more of the enemy than my entire detachment put together. Nobody was a better fighter, nobody had the skill with a sword that I had. But I was confounded! I even appealed to the queen in person, asking her to exempt me from this ridiculous ruling.' Cornelius sighed. 'It was to no avail. She spoke to me in private and told me that since she had signed the papers that made the ruling law, then there was nothing she could do. She could not rescind the order. I simply had to leave. But where would I go?'

  Max opened his mouth to say, 'Keladon,' but Sebastian gave him a look which made him abandon the idea.

  'Where indeed?' agreed Sebastian, in a sympathetic tone.

  'And then one of my men told me about Keladon. He said it had the most powerful army in history, including a special unit called the Crimson Cloak – bodyguards to King Septimus himself! This most celebrated of units is made up of volunteer soldiers from all over the known world. A unit with its own rules, its own laws – and, so far as this man was aware, no height restrictions. I resolved that I would be a part of it. So I set off from Golmira four moons ago, and now here I am, sitting at a campfire and about to have dinner with you two.'

  'Small world,' said Sebastian. Then he winced. 'Sorry,' he said. 'No offence.'

  'None taken, my friend.' Cornelius seemed to make an effort to shrug off his bad memories. 'Anyway, that's enough about me. I see that javralat is still a long way from being cooked, so why not give me a sample of your jester's skills? I could certainly use a good laugh after my recent experiences!'

  Sebastian and Max exchanged worried glances.

  'A good laugh,' said Max quietly. 'Yes, well, that would be a novelty.'

  'Hmm. Let me see now . . .' Sebastian thought for a moment, leafing through the imaginary book of jests that he kept stored in his head. Finally he made a selection.

  'A man is standing by a river eating a pie. Another man comes along with a little mutt on a lead and the mutt starts to jump up at the first man, after a bit of pie. So the first man says, "Excuse me, do you mind if I throw your mutt a bit?" The second man says, "No, not at all!" So the first man picks up the mutt and throws him into the river.' Sebastian smiled and waited for a reaction but Cornelius just looked at him blankly.

  'That's one of the better ones,' Max told him.

  'Could the mutt swim?' asked Cornelius.

  'Well, I . . . I don't know,' said Sebastian, somewhat confused by the question.

  'You don't know? Well, you should know – you're the one telling the story.'

  'But . . . it's a joke. Whether the mutt can swim or not has no relevance.'

  'I beg to differ, sir. If the mutt can swim, it's an amusing tale. If not, it's a tragedy. The mutt will drown and his owner will be heartbroken. Hardly a laughing matter.'

  'I hadn't really thought of it like that,' admitted Sebastian. He considered for a moment. 'Very well. The mutt can swim.'

  Cornelius looked relieved and his baby face split into a grin. 'Ha ha, yes, very droll!'

  'You think so?'

  'Oh yes, once we'd cleared up the business about the mutt. Do you have any other stories?'

  Some time passed as Sebastian fired off a series of jokes at Cornelius, but it was hard work. Cornelius always questioned some small detail, which held up the flow of the story. He laughed dutifully when they finally got to the end of each one, but it felt a bit like walking uphill in a gale, and Sebastian was relieved when the javralat was finally cooked. Cornelius split the sizzling carcass down the middle with his knife and the two of them fell to with a vengeance, tearing ravenously into the succulent flesh. After a little while Sebastian became aware of Max gazing at him hopefully.

  'What?' he demanded.

  'Let's have a bit,' pleaded Max.

  'You? You can't eat this – you're a vegetarian!'

  'I know, but I'm starving!'

  'I can get you a bit more mulch if you like.'

  Max shook his head. 'A delightful prospect, but nonetheless, I think I'll settle for a bit of javralat.'

  Sebastian shrugged. He broke off a large hunk of hot meat and set it down in front of Max.

  'I've seen everything now,' exclaimed Cornelius. 'A buffalope eating meat! Who'd have thought it?'

  'Please don't tell anyone,' pleaded Max, as he tore strips of flesh from the bone with his blunt teeth. 'It's probably a hanging offence in Keladon!'

  Sebastian and Cornelius threw back their heads and laughed at the guilty expression on his shaggy face.

  CHAPTER 5

  MYSTERIES

  With the unfamiliar sensation of having a full stomach, Sebastian settled contentedly back to enjoy the warmth of the fire and the conversation. The clouds had rolled back and the moon rose steadily in the sky like a great ripe cheese veined with blue. Now Sebastian was even more aware of the great stretches of plain that lay all around them. When he turned his head to look, he could see across it for miles and he felt very small and insignificant camped out here in the midst of this unfamiliar landscape.