Fool's Errand - The King is Dead

You can read the first part of this via the link below:

Matthew Fromm set a High Fantasy challenge, the details of which are at the end and I entered it with Fool's Errand. My offering was a 500 word excerpt and introduced us to a fool, a jester. Such was the response from my supporters on Vocal, that I decided to write the next part and see where that took me. It may be the path to ignominy but unless that path is taken, I'll never know.

So here is Part Two of Fool's Errand. If you do read it, I'd love for you to comment, unless you tell me that it's too long because I really don't know what to do with that. I can only assume that you found it tedious. And irritating. Which is true of some people's comments as well, I've found who comment on your work being too long.

***

And we're in trouble. Big trouble. Because he's asked me, me, to deliver a message to the Dragon Queen of Trysk.

Me.

The Fool.

Adventure skills: none.

I ask: who's the Fool here?

I took a moment to reflect and I'm not going to lie, panic.

Shit! Shit! SHIT!

I'm not prone to drama unless the situation requires it but I have to admit to feeling a little overwhelmed. I found myself on the floor infront of the King, trying to gather my thoughts.

"What were you thinking?" I said out loud, looking at the man slack and lifeless before me. Too late for explanations now. No, it was time to use my head for something other than frivolity but as it had been trained in the pursuit of this for so long, it was reluctant to gear itself for anything else.

I felt the bile of nerves mount in my throat. I'm just a fool, for all the gods' sake! What do I know about going on a quest? I take the piss out of people for a living! And it's a poor living at that! You could say I am piss poor.

This is not the time for jokes, Brain!

Think! Think!

I could run. No-one knows what the King has just said to me. No-one knows that he's just put the fate of the Kingdom on my shoulders, and I don't think that's my ego talking. Has he shared it with the Lord Chancellor already? Maybe. But where would I run to? It's not like a fool has a load of friends and I have no family to shelter me.

How about I take the scroll and give it to someone else to take! Pay someone! Yes! But with what? Beans?

Or take it myself, as he asked, and die trying. Which was very likely.

I don't want to die!

I got up, agitated, my bells jingling as I did which seemed the ultimate insult to me, in my current state of unrest. I tore the hat off my head and threw it to the floor.

Calm. I needed to be calm. I took some deep breaths and closed my eyes.

Pacing, that's what was needed. I always think better when I'm moving. And I needed to think quickly because any minute all hell would break loose.

You see, the thing is I'm a coward. The thought of leaving these walls terrifies me. I don't want to be out on the open road, lighting a fire and wearing a cloak, being all mysterious and eating squirrels! That's for rangers and people who like to eat rodents they've caught themselves who love the open road and the shadows and night noises. That is not for me! I like to be the centre of attention, in the light and the colour, skipping and goading and generally acting, well, the fool! And I don't have to catch my food myself but have it brought to me on a plate or steal it from the kitchen pantry. Skinless and cooked.

What was I going to do?

I looked over at the King, the shell of the man. His crown was slightly on the skew, something he would never have allowed if he had still been here. He looked shrunken, powerless, dead and a very strange colour. I felt, I am not ashamed to admit a little sad. In that moment, I realised just how pivotal he was to my existence and it seemed like that was going to extend beyond the grave too. It was hard to feel anger towards him when he looked so pathetic but I did.

I did not want to do this.

But I didn't think I could ignore it. Could I? I want to! You see, for all my cowardice, I'm loyal. Even in death. I'm not going to say that I loved the King - I don't love anyone or anything - but the years that I've had here in his court have been good. Comfortable. I wouldn't say that he's taken care of me because I've had to work bloody hard but as an employer, he's provided for me, never treated me cruelly, laughed at my jokes, stroked my ego...

He was the closest thing I've ever had to a friend, I suppose. Him and the cat in the kitchen and that's only because I throw it scraps.

Loyalty is an irritating human trait when you have it (not so much when your its recipient) and it may well be my undoing.

Heavy. That's what I felt. I went over to the table and picked up the scroll. It was sealed with a ribbon tied to it. Expecting it to be light, I was surprised at its heft. Underneath attached to the scroll was a small leather pouch. Coins, I would imagine to help me on my quest. I would look at that later. Tucking it into my jerkin, where my cowl sits round my shoulders, for camouflage, I went over to the door and told the guard, "Call the Lord Chancellor. The King wants to see him."

And then I hightailed it out of there to my rooms, thinking about what I needed as I scurried away before the Lord Chancellor saw my exit.

This fool was hitting the road and was terrified at the prospect.

And so, now the fool will depart from the city,

And mark the occasion with this little ditty,

Saddled with duty and bags of self-pity

On a quest that can only be seen as quite shitty.

***

I hope that you enjoyed this. Please leave a comment if you read it. I always love to hear from my readers. Truly, despite what I said at the start.

As promised, here's the link to Matthew Fromm's original challenge and also an interesting story where you can learn more about him:

Thanks for stopping by!