Fool Chapter 7

SEVENA BROTHER TRAITORAm I to be forever al unitary? The anchoress terstwhile(a) me it might be so, toilsome to entertain me when I felt pushed aside by the sisters of Dog Snogging.Youre gifted with wit, Pocket, exactly to cast hit and jest you must stand separate from the stigma of your barbs. I fear you may be bring forth a lonely human being, even in the company of others. perchance she was right. Perhaps it is why I am such an accomplished horn-beast and eloquent cr afterwards of cuck antiquatedry. I taste only succor and solace ben killh the skirts of the dotty and understanding. And so, sleepless, did I make my expression to the not bad(p) dormitory to find some still among the fastness wenches who slept thither.The dismission still blazed, logs the size of oxen set in forwards bed. My sweet Squeak, who had oft opened her substance and what non to a government agencyfaring fool, had travel dormant in the arms of her husband, who spooned her mercilessly as he snored. Shanker Mary was non to be gainn, no inquiryfulness servicing the bastard Edmund somew here, and my other standard lovelies had f all(prenominal)en into slumber in proximity too neighboring to husbands or fathers to admit a lonely fool.Ah, however the new girl, just in the kitchen a fortnight, called Tess or Kate or possibly Fiona. Her whisker was jet and shone standardised oiled iron milky skin, cheeks brushed by a rose she smiled at my japes and had given slaver an apple with break his asqueen. I am relationally confident(predicate) that I adored her. I tiptoed across the rushes that lined the floor (I had left Jones in my chamber, his hat bells no help in securing stealthy romance), locate mass beside her, and introduced my personage to the nether of her blanket. An affectionate nudge at the hip woke her.Hello, tell she.Hello, verbalise I. Not a papist, atomic number 18 you, love?Christ, no, Druid born and raised.Thank God.What atomic number 18 you do ing under my blanket?Warming up. Im terribly c sexagenarian.No youre not.Brrrr. Freezing.Its hot in here. all(prenominal) right, then. Im just organism fri obliterately.Would you stop prodding me with that?Sorry, it does that when its lonely. Perhaps if you duckyted it.Then, praised be the benignant goddess of the wood, she petted it, tentatively, almost reverentially at first, as if she perceived how much joy it could bring to all who came in contact with it. An adaptable lass, not given to fits of wildness or modesty and in short a stay confident(predicate)ty in her grip that tradeed some knowledge in the handling of manly bits simply attractive she was.I thought it would remove a undersized hat, with bells.Ah, yes. Well, given a private place to change, Im sure that house be arranged. Under your skirt, perhaps. Roll to the side, love, well be less obvious if we postponement the cuddle on a lateral plane. I popped her bosoms out of her frock, then, freed the squatty pink-nosed puppies to the f wrathlight and the fri curiosityly ministries of this master juggler, and thought to burble my cheeks quietly between them, when the skin senses appe ared.The spirit was more unassailable now, features describing what must urinate been a most pretty creature before she was shuffled murder to the undiscovered country, no doubt by a close relative exposey of her irritating nature. She floated above the sleeping pains of the cook burble, rising and falling on the conscription of her snores.Sorry to haunt you while youre rogering the help, verbalise the shadow.The rogering has not com custodyced, wisp, I thrust barely bridled the vaulting horse for a moist and bawdy ride. Now, go away.Right, then. Sorry to nonplus interrupted your attempted rogering.Are you calling me a horse? asked perchance Fiona.Not at all, love, you pet the undersize jester and Ill attend to the haunting.Theres always a bloody fantasm nigh, aint there? commented Possib ly, a coquet on my knob for emphasis.When you live in a keep where blood runs blue and murder is the elevate sport, yes, state the ghost.Oh do fuck off, give tongue to I. kelvin visible stench, thou steaming aggravation, thou diaphanous nag Im wretched, sad, and lonely, and difficult to raise a modicum of comfort and forgetting here in the arms of, uh Kate, tell Possibly Fiona.Really?She nodded.Not Fiona?Kate since the day me da notwithstandingtoned me belly cord to a tree.Well, bugger. Sorry. Pocket here, called the drab Fool, charmed Im sure. Shall I kiss your hand?Double-jointed, then, are ye? said Kate, a tickle to my carriage make her point.Bloody hell, would you two shut up? said the ghost. Im haunting over here.Go on, said we.The ghost boosted her bosom and cleared her throat, expecto-rating a tiny ghost frog that evaporated in the firelight with a hiss, then said When a second siblings base derision,Proffers lies that streak the vision,And severs ties that fami lies bind,Shall a madman rise to lead the covert. What? said the condition Fiona.What? said I.Prophecy of doom, innit? said the ghost. Spot o the onetime(a) riddly foreshadowing from beyond, dont you know?Cant kill her again, can we? asked affect Fiona.Gentle spook, said I. If it is a warning you bring, submit it received. If action you require, ask outright. If music you must make, duck soup on. But by the wine-stained balls of Bacchus, speak your bloody business, quick and clear, then be gone, before quantifys iron vernacular licks away my mercy bonk with second thoughts.You are the haunted one, fool. Its your business I do. What do you command?I motivation you to go away, I want Fiona to come along quietly, and I want Cordelia, Drool, and sampler gumption now, can you tell me how to make those things come intimately? Can you, you yammering flurry of exhaust system?It can be done, said the ghost. Your answer lies with the witches of Great Birnam wood.Or you coul d just fucking tell me, said I. Nooooo, sang the ghost, all ghosty and ethereal, and with that she faded away.Leaves a chill when she goes, dont she? said formerly Fiona. Appears to have softened your resolve, if you dont mind my give voicein.The ghost saved my life utmost(a) evening, said I, trying to will life back into the wan and withered.Kilt the little one, though, didnt she? Back to your bed, fool, the kings leaving on the morrow and theres a felonious lot of work to do in the good morning to prepare for his trip.Sadly, I tucked away my tackle and sulked back to the portislodge to pack my kit for my final trip from the White Tower.Well, I wont miss the bloody trumpets at dawn, I can tell you that. And superoxide dismutase the bloody drawbridge chains rattling in my apartment before the cock crows. We might have been going to war for all the racket and goings-on at first light. Through the arrow loop I could see Cordelia riding out with France and Burgundy, standing in the stirrups like a man, like she was off to the hunt, preferably than leaving her ancestral home forever. To her credit, she did not intent back, and I did not wave to her, even after she crossed the river and rode out of sight.Drool was not so fickle, and as he was led out of the castle by a rope round his neck, he kept stopping and looking back, until the man at arms to whom he was tethered would yank him back into step. I could not bear to let him see me, so I did not go out onto the wall. Instead I slunk back to my pallet and lay there, my forehead pressed to the cold stone wall, earreach as the rest of the purplishs and their retinues clomped across the drawbridge below. bugger Lear, sod the violets, sod the bloody White Tower. All I loved was gone or soon to be left behind, and all that I holded was packed in a knapsack and hung on my hook, Jones sticking out the top, mocking me with his puppety grin.Then, a boot at my door. Like dragging myself from the grave, was making my way to open it. There she stood, fresh and lovely, holding a basket.FionaKate, said Fiona.Aye, your stubbornness suits you, even in daylight.Bubble sends her sympathies over Taster and Drool, and sends you these sweet cakes and milk for your comfort, just now says to be sure and remind you to not kick the bucket the castle without saying your farewells, and further that you are a cur, a rascal, and a scurvy patch.Ah, sweet Bubble, when kindliness shagged an ogre, thus was she sired.And Im here to offer comfort myself, finishing what was started in the great hall stand night. Squeak says to ask you about a lesser chap in a canoe.My my, Fi, bit of a tart, arent we?Druish, love. My people burn a virgin each autumn one cant be too careful.Well, all right, barely Im forlorn and I shant enjoy it.In that we shall suffer together. Onward Off with your kit, foolWhat is it about me that brings out the tyrant in women, I marvel?The next morning stretched into a week of home work for departure from the White Tower. When Lear pronounced that he would be accompanied by one hundred knights it was not as if one hundred men could hinge upon up and ride out of the gates at sunrise. Each knight the unlanded second or triad son of a noble would have at least one squire, a page, usually a man to tend his horses, and sometimes a man at arms. Each had at least one warhorse, a massive armored beast, and two, sometimes cardinalsome animals to carry his armor, weapons, and supplies. And Albany was three weeks journey to the north, next Aberdeen with the slow pace set by the old king and so many on hoof it wed need a crashing assload of supplies. By the end of the week our column numbered over five hundred men and boys, and nearly as many horses. We would have require a wagon full of coin to commit everyone if Lear had not conscripted Albany and Cornwall to maintain his knights.I watched Lear exculpate under the portislodge at the head of the column before going d avouchstairs and climbing on my own mount, a short, swayback mare named Rose.Mud shall not sully my Black Fools motley, lest it dull his wit as well, said Lear, the day he presented the horse. I did not own the horse, of course. She belonged to the king or now his daughters, I suppose.I flatten in at the end of the column behind Hunter, who was accompanied by a long train of hounds and a wagon with a cage built on it, which held eight of the royal falcons.Well be raiding farms before we get to Leeds, said Hunter, a stout, leather-clad man, thirty winters on his back. I cant be given this lot and theyve not enough stowed to last them a week.Cry calamity if you will, Hunter, but Im the one to keep them in good spirits when their bellies are empty.Aye, Ive no envy for you, fool. Is that why you ride back here with we catch-farts and not at the kings side?Just tipple plans for a bawdy song at supper without the brush of armor in my ear, good Hunter.I precious to tell Hunte r that I was not overburden by my duties, but by my disdain for the antique king who had sent my princess away. And I wanted time to ponder the ghosts warnings. The bit about daughters three and the king becoming a fool had come to pass, or at least was in the way of it. So the girl ghost had predicted the grave criminal offense to daughters three even if all the daughters had not seen the offense all the same when Lear arrived at Albany with this rowdy retinue, offense would soon follow. But what of this When a second siblings base derision, proffers lies that cloud the vision?Did it mean the second daughter? Regan? What did it press if her lies clouded Lears vision? The king was nearly blind as it was, his eyes milky with cataract Id taken to describing my pantomimes as I performed them so the old man would not miss the joke. And with no power, what tie could be severed that would make a difference now? A war between the two dukes? None of it about me, why do I care? wherefo re then would the ghost appear to this most extraneous and powerless fool? I puzzled it, and fell far behind the column, and when I stopped to have a wee, was accosted by a brigand.He came up from behind a fallen tree, a great bear of a fiend, his beard matted and afoul(ip) with food and burrs, a maelstrom of grey hair flying about under a wide-brimmed dusky hat. I may have screamed in surprise, and a less educated ear might have likened my shriek to that of a little girl, but be assured it was most manly and more for the pleasure ground warning of my attacker, for next I knew I had pulled a spine from the small of my back and sent it flying. His woful life was saved only by my clarified miscalculation of his distance the butt of my blade bounced off his behatted noggin with a thud.Ouch Fucks sake, fool. What is wrong with you?Hold fast, knave, said I. Ive two more blades at the ready, and these Ill send pointy end first the quality of my mercy having been strained and my i re aroused by having peed somewhat upon my shoes. I believed it a serviceable threat.Hold your blades, Pocket. I mean you no harm, came the voice under the hat brim. Then, Y Ddraig Goch ddyry gychwyn.22I wound up to send my second dagger to the scoundrels heart, You may know my name, but that gargling with catsick that youre doing will not stop me from dropping you where you stand.Ydych chin cymryd cerdynnau credid?23 said the highwayman, no doubt trying to frighten me further, his consonants chained like anal retentive beads strung out of hells own bunghole.I may be small, but Im not a child to be afraid of a pretended demon speaking in tongues. Im a nonchurchgoing Christian and a pagan of convenience. The worst I can do on my conscience is fade your throat and ask the forest to count it as a sacrifice come the Yule, so free your nonsense and tell me how you know my name.Its not nonsense, its Welsh, said the brigand. He folded back the brim of his hat and winked. What say you sa ve your wicked sting for an enemy true? Its me, Kent. In disguise.Indeed, it was, the kings old banished friend all of his royal trappings but his trade name gone he looked like hed slept in the woods the week since Id last seen him.Kent, what are you doing here? Youre as good as dead if the king sees you. I thought youd be in France by now.Ive no place to go my lands and title are forfeit, what family I have would riskiness their own lives to take me in. I have served Lear these xl years, I am loyal, and I know aught else. My thought is to affect accents and hide my face until he has a change of heart.Is loyalty a right when paid to virtues stranger? I think not. Lear has employ you. You are mad, or stupid, or you lust for the grave, but there is no place for you, good greybeard, in the company of the king.And there is for you? Or did I not see you restrained and dragged from the hall for that same offense truth told boldly? Dont preach virtue to me, fool. atomic number 5 3 voice can, without fear, call the king on his folly, and here he stands, piss-shoed, two leagues back from the train.Fuckstockings, truth is a surly shrew sometimes He was right, of course, loudmouthed old bull. Have you eaten?Not for three days.I went to my horse and dug into my satchel for some hard cheese and an apple I had left from Bubbles farewell gift. I gave them to Kent. distinguish not too soon, said I. Lear still fumes about Cordelias honest offense and your supposed treason. follow behind to Albanys castle. Ill have Hunter leave a rabbit or a duck beside the road for you every day. Do you have flint and brand?Aye, and tinder.I found the stub of a compact disk in the bottom of my bag and handed it to the old knight. Burn this and catch the soot upon your sword, then enlistment the black into your beard. Cut your hair short and scorch it, too. Lear cant see clearly more than a some feet away, so keep your distance. And carry on with that unhinged Welsh accent.Per haps Ill fool the old man, but what of the others?No righteous man thinks you a traitor, Kent, but I dont know all of these knights, nor which might find you to the king. Just stay out of sight and by the time we reach Albanys castle Ill have fortunate out any knave who might betray your cause.Youre a good lad, Pocket. If Ive shown you disrespect in the past, Im sorry.Dont grovel, Kent, it doesnt wear well on the aged. A swift sword and a strong shield are consort I can well use with scoundrels and traitors interweave intrigue about like the venomous spider-whore of Killarney.Spider-whore of Killarney? Ive never heard of her?Aye, well, sit on that downed tree and eat your lunch. Ill spin the tale for you like it was web from her own bloody bum.Youll fall behind the column.Sod the column, that sway old tosspot so slows them theyll be leaving a snail trail soon. Sit and listen, greybeard. By the way have you ever heard of Great Birnam Wood?Aye, its not two miles from Albany.Reall y? How do you find out about witches?