Prince Charming & The Prince Regent

You may or may not remember the legend that is Prince Charming and his loyal band who went about the fairy tale Kingdoms of the Realm battling dragons and sorcerers, performing heroic deeds at every turn. Perhaps the real truth would be that they didn’t manage any chivalrous acts and actually befriended the aforementioned parties as opposed to going toe to toe with them. They spent most of their time bickering and insulting one another. But that wouldn’t make for a very good legend now would it?
Children often dreamt of growing up and being in this merry band. Teenagers wondering about their sexuality aspired to be like Prince Charming. Ugly, acne faced adolescents identified with the Dwarf and congenital liars similarly with the Minstrel. As for Percy, horses everywhere saw him as a hero.
The story went that the Prince had rode North on Percy with the Dragon to live in the land of the Elves. In his absence, Archie became Prince Regent in the Palace with the Dwarf and the Sorcerer as his Chief advisors.
Seven long years had passed since Prince Charming and his band had gone their separate ways. The Kingdom had become a very different place. The old King had kept a pretty tight rein on the place it has to be admitted, but the Prince Regent was an unmitigated tyrant.
Taxation had risen to ridiculous levels as the Prince Regent boosted his war chest. His fiscal policy consisted of taking as much money from his subjects as possible and using it to kill all his enemies. Indeed, during his tenure, the Kingdom had expanded by invading all the nearby dominions. Archie had put together a huge, well-trained army and his fortresses were dotted about the land so that he had an iron grip over the Kingdom.
“Sire,” the Dwarf marched into the court as Archie sat all alone on the throne but for the Minstrel who was tuning his new lute. “The counties to the West are refusing to pay their tributes!”
“What?” Archie replied irritably.
“Yes sire,” he stood in front of the Regent. “They object to it on the grounds that you are persecuting those with a different sexual orientation.”
“They more than filled their quota with that Mardi Gras they held the other month!” erupted Archie. “I warned them if they opened that gay pub they’d be charged. Hence why they must pay tribute unless they want my guards to go West and slaughter them all. The sexual deviants!”
“I shall dispatch a messenger,” nodded the Dwarf with a weary air. “That it’s come to this.”
“No!” barked Archie. “Send my troops!”
“But sire,” the Dwarf protested. “If we keep punishing our subjects like this then no good will come of it.”
“Just do it ugmo!” Archie roared.
“I must advise you not do pursue this line of rule…”
“The hangman is restless,” Archie grinned. “Don’t make me sign a death warrant…”
The Dwarf glumly hurried out of the court as the Sorcerer wandered in with a roll of the eyes at his colleague prior to approaching the Prince Regent.
“Good morning your Majesty,” the Sorcerer bowed.
“What do you want?”
“We’ve caught the talking Mermaid in the South.”
“Excellent!” Archie clapped his hands together. “Tell me all!”
“She was swimming in the waves off the coast and our fishing trawler caught her in their net. The peoples of the Sea Kingdom are up in fins though sire. There is talk of an uprising.”
“I don’t care!” Archie spat. “I will not tolerate all these human beings pretending they’re fish and spending their whole time in the sea! It’s not healthy or normal! Where is she now by the way?”
“She’s in a huge water tank that is being brought up to the Palace in a carriage as part of an armed convoy. Once she gets here we shall put her in the moat.”
“Good!” enthused Archie. “That heathen shall pay tribute to me! Is she good
looking?”
“I might say sire that she has the face of a Goddess. She has a wonderful set of breasts as well.”
“Sounds great!” grinned Archie. “And I bet she’s got a stunning figure eh?”
The Sorcerer frowned.
“Come on, you’re a red blooded bloke aren’t you? Has she or hasn’t she?”
“Sire, you are aware of what Mermaids look like aren’t you?”
“Of course I am! Why? Did she have a big arse? Was she a bit of a whale?”
“I’d say she was more like an enlarged, mutated Trout.”
“Eh?”
“Sire, you can see her in all her glory once the convoy arrives. It’ll be a few days. But the pressing matter is the fact that the Sea Kingdom want to attack. If they get into the rivers they could hijack our boats!”
“I want cannons trained on the estuary,” Archie told him. “If any of those buggers try swimming up-stream I want them killed.”
“Okay sire,” the Sorcerer shook his head in disbelief. “Anyway, I was told you wanted to see the Dwarf and I urgently?”
The Dwarf returned to the court at this time so that he and the Sorcerer stood in front of the Prince Regent.
“Your troops are heading West,” the Dwarf bowed.
“Good!” he began pacing in front of them. “Now you two. I would say that my time as Prince Regent has passed by rather successfully.”
The room fell silent.
“Well, hasn’t it?”
“I suppose so,” the Sorcerer shrugged. “If you discount the rising suicide rate, the hanging of all horses that neigh more than one syllable and taxation being at an all-time high.”
“It’s been a success all round!” the Prince Regent adjusted the crown on his head that had momentarily slipped a little. “But now we are entering the second phase!”
“The second phase?” the Sorcerer and Dwarf answered together with a collective shudder.
“Yes!” Archie sat back down on his throne. “We have doubled the size of the Kingdom and now it’s time to wipe out some of our enemies.”
They both gulped.
“Gentlemen!” he pointed to the back of the court where a man in armour appeared from behind the hanging tapestry. “May I introduce you to the new Royal Assassin!”
The man went to stand by the throne and removed his helmet. His hair was in a bob and he wore blusher, lipstick and mascara. Archie did a double take on seeing him.
“What the?”
“Ooh hello!” he cooed.
“I thought you were meant to be the deadliest assassin in all of fairy tale world?”
“I am, ducky!” he produced a pink crossbow and struck a pose.
“Why are you wearing all that make up?” Archie glared.
“I’m a pre-op transsexual,” he announced and ‘he’ will remain a ‘he’ until a surgeon says differently, for the sake of simplicity at this point. “This last hit should pay for the final bit to be snipped off.”
“You are kidding me?” Archie growled.
“Oh no! I’m the finest hit man in the realm!”
“But you’re gay!”
“Oh no! I’m a man wanting to be a woman. You really must brush up on these things your Majesty!”
The Prince Regent held his head in his hands as the assassin left the court.
“Oh I don’t believe it!” he grimaced. “So that’s my best man? My crack assassin?”
“He’s not on crack sire,” remarked the Dwarf. “And you really shouldn’t cast such aspersions. He’s probably on quite a few hormone tablets though.”
“How can I depend on the likes of him?”
“Who did you want him to kill anyway?” the Sorcerer asked.
“Percy!” Archie rested back in his throne.
“Percy?” his advisors gasped.
“Yes!” Archie seemed surprised that they were so shocked by the idea.
“But sire,” the Sorcerer tried reasoning with him. “I thought the days of you wanting him dead were long gone. He’s not even been to the Royal court for nearly a decade since he took the Prince up North.”
“You’ve heard the Prophecy!” Archie told him anxiously.
“The Prophecy?” the Dwarf was puzzled.
“Yes,” the Sorcerer rolled his eyes irritably. “Although I’d call it the mad ravings of an old crone.”
“Have I missed something?” the Dwarf asked.
“It happened when you were away on holiday,” the Sorcerer explained bashfully. “A band of gypsies….”
“Don’t you mean Travelers?” the Dwarf corrected him.
“Oh yes, so I do,” the Sorcerer nodded. “Anyway, they passed by the Palace and we told them to move on or there would be trouble. One ugly old crone pipes up that she knows something about the Prince Regent’s future so old Mr Paranoid here demanded she come to the court.”
“Yes!” Archie wagged his finger at the pair of them. “And I’m glad I did! She foretold my future!”
“Sire, for the hundredth time, she simply said you should beware the sound of thundering hooves. She was talking about an invasion, of a battalion on horseback attacking the Palace. The chances of which have greatly increased since you saw fit to capture the Mermaid and raise the taxes in the West.”
“There’s more to it than that!” declared Archie. “That smart arsed horse has always had it in for me…”
“Why?” the Dwarf interrupted. “I mean all you’ve ever done to upset him is
constantly suggest he should be slaughtered and even arranged for him to be taken to the knackers yard.”
“That gypsy…”
“Traveler!”
“That traveler woman knew her stuff! She also told me my advisor would be a father soon!”
“But sire,” pointed out the Dwarf. “Princess Helena was five months pregnant when we went on holiday.”
“Exactly!”
“More to the point, the whole court was talking about it when you were on holiday,” added the Sorcerer. “Sire, don’t you think she might have overheard something?”
“Hang on?” the Dwarf frowned. “Why are we the topic of conversation?”
“People are fascinated,” explained the Sorcerer. “Everyone is waiting to see just how hideous the poor blighter is going to be. The smart money is on it having a hunchback and being boss eyed.”
“I thought you said you only cursed myself and Helena?!” the Dwarf remonstrated with the Sorcerer. “You mentioned that our children would not be subjected to it? That they’d look like the children of our original selves before the wretched curses?”
“I know that,” the Sorcerer was smug. “But there’s a lot of money riding on just how ugly they’ll be. I’ve put my money on them looking relatively normal. It was a hundred to one. I stand to make a fortune!”
“Anyway,” continued Archie. “I am taking no risks. I am sending my assassin North to kill that bloody horse!”
At that moment the Royal Assassin swanned into court holding his crossbow.
“Right then!” he winked at Archie. “I’m going to ride North and give that naughty horse a good seeing to!”
“Just kill him!”
“Hark at him?” the Royal Assassin nudged the Dwarf. “Doesn’t he get all butch when he’s angry.”
“Why oh why oh why?” Archie shook his head. “Are you really the best assassin in the realm?”
“Oh yes! I’m super! They call me ‘The Big Fist’!”
“What kind of name is that?” the Dwarf snorted. “I’ve known loads of assassins…”
“Really?” said Archie. “And yet you still resist the urge to have that thing you call a wife bumped off!”
“I’ve known loads of assassins and they have cool names!”
“Like what?” pouted the Royal Assassin.
“Like ‘The Rampant Rascal’, ‘The Wrist of Steel’ and ‘The Sticky Sheath’.”
“I know all of them!” the Royal Assassin put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “They’re a right bunch!”
“I don’t believe it!” sighed Archie before pointing at the assassin. “Listen to me, if you cock this up I’ll ensure you get your last operation for free!”
“Oh thank you!”
“With no anaesthetic!”

High up in the North in the Land of the Elves, the Prince had settled down. Having bought a mansion, he kept Percy on as his companion and horse. The Dragon he saw occasionally as the winged one was going about the place with a new fast set of dragons who were into marathon clubbing sessions and flying in their own synchronized Dragon display team which lit up the sky once a week.
Prince Charming remained lonely however. After a couple of years in the region he had fallen in love with the Woodcutter who had also begun a new life in the North. The Woodcutter had come from the forest thus leaving Red Riding Hood to be eaten by a Wolf.
The Prince and the Woodcutter had been in a whirlwind romance which culminated in a Civil Partnership.
But tragedy lay in store for the happy couple.
Returning from their honeymoon, they were set upon by a gang of thugs who beat the Woodcutter to death. The Prince had done his utmost to defend him but, as they were grossly outnumbered, he stood little chance. Left bleeding in a ditch with the dead body of his partner, he was finally discovered by Percy who had gone to search for him after not returning home.
It turned out that their attackers had been relatives and friends of Red Riding Hood. So incensed were they by the Woodcutter’s apparent dereliction of duty that they had hunted him down to take revenge. Meanwhile the cross-dressing Wolf was living the life of Riley in a log cabin in the forest.
The Prince grieved for a year, solemnly wearing only black right up to this very day. Percy had suggested they return home but he became a recluse, refusing to go South to a world that didn’t understand him.
“Do you know Percy?” the Prince remarked as he rode him over the windswept fields one sunny day. “I often wonder how Archie and the others are getting on after all these years!”
“I heard word from the South that Archie is not the nicest of rulers,” replied Percy. “He’s been clamping down on a few things by all accounts.”
“Such as what?”
“He’s introduced a smile tax.”
“Oh dear! That must be Chinese whispers surely?”
“Chinese what?”
“Chinese? People from China. It’s a country in Asia.”
“Your Majesty, you really must consider talking to someone about your partner’s death. I think you’re going a bit peculiar.”
“What else have you heard?”
“I heard that he’d gone to war.”
“Oh no!” groaned the Prince. “My father was always doing that!”
Suddenly he stuck his heels into Percy so that his steed came to a stop.
“Something wrong Sire?”
“Yes Percy,” whispered the Prince. “Don’t look but I’ve just seen someone high up in that oak tree.
“Which one?”
“Nine o’clock.”
“No sire, it’s half twelve. What are we having for lunch by the way?”
“No! He’s to our left…and he’s holding a crossbow!”
“How could you see that from here?” Percy was understandably puzzled given that he was wearing blinkers.
“The crossbow is pink!”
“Oh no,” shuddered Percy.
“What’s wrong?”
“A pink crossbow? You know what that means? It’s ‘The Big Fist’.”
“What? ‘The Big what…?”
“‘The Big Fist’! He’s the deadliest assassin in the realm!”
“Really?” the Prince gulped. “What would an assassin want with us?”
“You are the next in line to the throne your Majesty,” pointed out Percy. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but that might be a motive.”
“This is getting ridiculous Percy! I struggle to keep up, I really do!”
“Well, you should be thankful,” shrugged the horse. “At least with the ‘The Big Fist’ you know where you are. I’ve heard some very sordid stories about ‘The Sticky Sheath’. I’m not sure he’s actually an assassin you know.”
“This realm is falling apart!” exclaimed the Prince. “Whatever happened to law and order? To equality? To social welfare? To even distribution of wealth?”
“Not to put too fine a point on it your Majesty,” Percy cleared his throat. “But your father and then Archie being in charge probably were not conducive to achieving such outcomes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, in the case of Archie, I am reminded of an old horse proverb.”
“Really, what’s that Percy?”
“You won’t find a thoroughbred in the knackers yard.”
“How profound.”
“Another one comes to mind.”
“Yes Percy?”
“If it looks and smells like horse manure, it is horse manure.”
“Percy, are you trying to suggest that Archie wasn’t up to the task?”
“Maybe sire I just find it unfortunate that he was selected as the Prince Regent when there were other candidates available.”
“Like who?”
“The Royal Toilet Attendant? The Court Jester? The stag’s head mounted above the fireplace in the Palace library?”
“I get your point,” nodded the Prince. “But now we need to sort out this fellow. Just trot forwards and wait for my command.”
With the crossbow trained on them, Percy trotted forwards across the field.
“Just give the order sire…” hissed Percy.
“Not yet…”
“When sire?”
“Not yet…”
“Just a moment…”
“Hurry up sire, I am a sitting duck out here…”
“A little more…”
Suddenly Percy leapt into a canter and then a jolting gallop.
As his hooves thundered over the field and the Prince clung on for dear life, something stung Percy in his rump. Whinnying, he sprang into the air to dive behind some bushes and beyond the range of the sniper. The Prince came off his steed and immediately leapt to his feet to take cover behind a tree trunk. Percy was prostrate.
An arrow was embedded in his rump thus causing it to bleed.
“I can’t see him,” the Prince peered across the field to the oak trees on the opposing side. “And Percy! Why didn’t you wait for my command?”
He turned to see his wounded horse and went on his knees to try pulling the arrow out.
“I’m sorry sire,” grimaced Percy. “I just had to get you to safety as soon as I could. Otherwise ‘The Big Fist’ would have taken aim and you would have been arrow fodder!”
“Right Percy!” the Prince grasped the arrow tightly. “This will smart!”
There was a loud neigh as the offending article was removed from Percy’s backside. Percy felt strong enough to stand so that the Prince mounted him and they travelled through the wood and back towards the Prince’s mansion.
“Why would I be a target?” the Prince mulled the attack over as they sat in his kitchen and his housemaid attended to Percy’s wound.
“It’s obvious!” Percy stamped his hooves as the antiseptic was applied. “Someone is taking revenge for Archie invading their lands! They think if they kill you or scare you then Archie will be forced to stop!”
“Right!” the Prince arose and addressed his housemaid. “Prepare my overnight bag. We are riding South to speak with my manservant this very night!”

The big day had come for Archie. The convoy carrying the Mermaid had arrived. She had been thrown in the moat while Archie, the Minstrel, the Dwarf and the Sorcerer all departed the court to go to the Palace’s drawbridge.
“Where is she then?” Archie clapped his hands together excitedly as he peered into the murky green water of the moat. “She might be a freak but I can’t wait to see her breasts!”
“She’s obviously quite shy sire,” observed the Dwarf as she didn’t appear.
“It’s a shame she’s a bit fishy, otherwise I might take her as my bride!”
“Sire?” frowned the Sorcerer. “You are aware of what a Mermaid is, aren’t you?”
“Not really,” shrugged Archie. “I just know they spend all their time in the sea. I suppose they must be quite scaly and…do they have gills in the ribcage area?”
The Dwarf and the Sorcerer regarded each other with an uncomfortable smile.
There was a splashing sound as the Mermaid rose above the water. Throwing her long golden locks about, she was half way out of the water. The Prince Regent was agog at the sight of her naked breasts.
“Oh my word!” he nudged the Sorcerer. “She’s a stunner.”
Both of his advisors clasped their heads with their hands.

The Prince rode Percy across the rocky mountains out of the land of the Elves. It was nearly nightfall and they were keen to get down onto lower land before darkness.
Little did they know that the Royal Assassin or Hilary, as his friends called him, was in pursuit. Having tracked them across the land, he was riding after them but presently keeping his distance until he might take the opportunity to have a second shot at Percy.
“How long are we going to ride into the night your Majesty?” inquired Percy as he reached the foot of the mountains to begin a canter across the moonlit plains.
“We should ride for a few hours and then set up camp,” Prince Charming told him. “I still cannot believe the nerve of that assassin. How’s the wound?”
“I am okay sire,” lied Percy. “But you do know that ‘The Big Fist’ won’t have given up? They say he can trace animal, human and bird across any terrain. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s following.”
“What else do you know about him?”
“Not living down here anymore, I am probably a little rusty but he was reputed to be a big, burly butch man, fond of hunting, darts and boxing.”
“Oh good,” groaned the Prince. “He sounds quite macho. We could be in trouble here.”
“Now come on sire,” Percy reassured him. “Remember the old days? We got out of much tighter corners than this!”
A short while later they entered a mighty forest. The Assassin followed, trying to keep up with them as best he could in the moonlight. As he was walking through the undergrowth, there was a shudder. The ground gave way beneath him and he fell into a pit.
“Aha! Got you!” Prince Charming stood above the Assassin as he nursed his ankle in the pit. Percy appeared with a shovel between his teeth. “That was a cunning trap Percy!”
The Assassin kept his helmet and visor on, just staring silently up at his captors.
“So then!” the Prince pointed a finger at his prisoner. “Who paid you to kill me?”
The Assassin remained speechless.
“Playing hard ball are we?” Percy shook his mane. “Sire, I think we should fill the hole back up.”
“Excellent idea Percy!” the Prince told him.
Percy trotted to a heap of soil and foliage to begin shovelling it into the pit. The Prince went with him.
“Ha! Best assassin in the realm?” chuckled the Prince. “We’ll see about that!”
“See sire,” neighed Percy. “We’re back, the old partnership!”
“You’re right!” agreed the Prince. “And fancy the greatest assassin in the Kingdom falling for that old trick? What’s that rope doing on the floor?”
“What rope sire?”
At that exact moment the Prince was hoisted high into the air to be suspended upside down by a rope looped around his right foot, the end of which was tied to the branch of a tree high above.
“Damn,” remarked the Prince as the blood began rushing to his head.
“I feel rather silly now sire,” Percy told him from the ground.
“Really Percy?” the Prince spat sarcastically. “You feel silly?”
“Yes sire, there we were congratulating ourselves on our great trap and we walked right into an even better one.”
“We? Don’t you mean I did?”
“Sire? May I suggest you use your sword to cut the rope?”
“Excellent!” the Prince snapped. “And then the drop will break my neck! Who the hell laid this trap, that’s what I want to know!”
“That’s a good question,” Percy pondered it for a moment before continuing. “And one I think I might know the answer to.”
“Pray tell!”
“We’re in the same forest those Babes were lost in many years ago. I suspect they are behind this.”
“What?” the Prince was incredulous. “Those sweet, angelic little children? I think you’re wrong there Percy! Anyway, I thought they were found and taken back to their parents?”
“No, your Majesty,” Percy shook his head. “That’s what people liked to claim. But, in actual fact, they went native. Those sweet, angelic little darlings grew into troublesome, juvenile delinquents. The rumours are that they have booby trapped the entire forest. They don’t take kindly to visitors.”
“I don’t care!” cried the Prince. “I’m Prince Charming! They must let me down at once!”
“Ah, you see sire,” explained Percy. “I wouldn’t advertise that fact.”
“Why?”
“When they were originally lost in this forest, it was you that was sent for to find them.”
“I don’t remember this!”
“You wouldn’t sire, you were away at a Gay Pride march.”
“So, what was done in my absence?”
“Eh,” Percy cleared his throat. “Well Archie…”
“The magic word…”
“Yes, well Archie decided we shouldn’t bother going to help. His rationale was that they’d probably already been abducted and gobbled up by a wolf or some other beast or child molester.”
“Brilliant,” the Prince groaned. “The list of things I have to take up with Archie is growing by the hour!”
“I can help,” spoke up the Assassin who had been quiet during all of this.
“You?” spluttered the Prince. “I don’t think so! You’ve been sent to kill me!”
“No I haven’t,” replied the Assassin.
“What?”
“No, I have not been sent to kill you at all.”
“So why did you fire a cross bow at us?”
“It’s the horse I’m after,” the Assassin rose to his feet.
“Me?” Percy cried.
“Yes,” the Assassin said from down in the pit.
“Who is paying you to kill Percy?” asked the Prince.
“I never reveal who my clients are.”
“Whatever it is they’re paying you, I’ll double it!” the Prince told him.
“Okay then your Majesty,” the Assassin nodded. “We have a deal.”
“I’m flattered,” Percy remarked. “That someone would send ‘The Big Fist’ after little old me? I wonder who it is?”
“That’s fantastic Percy,” began the Prince who was feeling very dizzy. “And I’m delighted you were the target of a professional hit. In the meantime, how am I going to get down?”
“Like this!” the Assassin produced his pink crossbow and fired an arrow upwards so that it sliced the rope above the Prince in half.
There was an almighty shriek as the Prince hurtled downwards. The Assassin immediately grabbed for another arrow to fire. Just as the Prince was halfway down, another arrow flew towards him and pinned him to the trunk of the tree.
“Phew, nice work,” the Prince gasped as he looked up to where the neckline of his black tunic had been nailed to the tree by the arrow thus suspending his fall.
“Ah, it’s an easy shot once you get the hang of it,” the Assassin replied. “You should be able to jump down from there now your Majesty. The fall won’t be that bad.”
Indeed, the Prince managed to free his tunic from the arrow and dropped to the ground. Within seconds moments he had untied the rope from his right foot and hauled the Assassin from the pit.
“Let’s get out of here,” the Prince said to the Assassin. “Once we reach my Palace I will pay you what you are due.”
“Thank you sire,” the Assassin bowed before mounting his horse.
They rode back out of the forest, deciding that it wasn’t prudent to continue through it thus making their journey longer. Once outside, they followed the river East before finally setting up a camp for the night.

“Twas a great ruler called…” the Minstrel stopped singing and strumming his lute to frown.
“Why have you stopped?” Archie snapped at him as he sat on his throne looking rather grumpy.
The pair of them were alone in the court that morning as the Prince Regent awaited the attendance of his advisors.
“I’m sorry sire,” the Minstrel shrugged. “But what rhymes with Archie? I cannot think of anything.”
“I must have my own title song!” insisted Archie. “Think of something for crying out loud! I want a catchy hit that people can sing along to whenever I ride through the streets.”
“But Archie is such a tricky name,” whined the Minstrel. “Now what about Archibald? Bit of a mouthful but…” he began playing his lute again. “Twas a great ruler called Archibald, he was go-ing…bald?”
“I’m not going bald!” the Prince Regent shot up from his throne.
“Well sire, you are losing a bit around the top…”
“You’ll be losing more than just a bit around the top if you carry on!”
At this point the Dwarf and the Sorcerer entered. The former seemed exhausted.
“What’s wrong with you?” Archie asked him. “You look more haggard than normal.”
“I was up all night,” grumbled the Dwarf. “Helena had a dodgy belly. This pregnancy lark isn’t all it’s cracked up to be!”
“I bet.”
“And the flatulence is terrible.”
“Don’t say another word!” Archie ordered him. “I don’t want to hear about that irredeemably ugly beast you call a wife farting! Now, to business!”
“Yes sire?” they both waited to hear which part of the realm their master was planning to oppress or invade next.
“I have decided to marry the Mermaid.”
“What?” the other three said in unison.
A string on the lute broke.
“Yes,” Archie smiled. “She will be my Queen.”
“She can’t be the Queen,” pointed out the Sorcerer. “You have to be King to enable that.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Archie explained. “And I think it’s time we forgot about the Prince. He’s clearly never coming back so let’s just miss out all the red tape and make me King.”
“That aside sire,” the Dwarf began. “Are you sure you want to marry the Mermaid?”
“Listen to me Dwarf, what with your appearance and that of your wife’s, you
might not have the greatest experience of beauty but that Mermaid is gorgeous! Of
course I want to marry her! Can you imagine her in the sack?”
“But sire,” the Sorcerer said. “I thought you were of the opinion that the Mermaid was a degenerate?”
“Yes, I was,” admitted the Prince Regent. “I thought that she must be as she spends her whole time in the water and can go days on end without coming up for air. But that’s obviously a great gift she’s got. No, I was wrong.”
“I’m not sure your Majesty will be happy marrying her,” the Dwarf shook his head.
“Just because you’re married to a bulldog chewing a wasp, don’t try ruining it for the rest of us!”
“I must agree with the Dwarf sire,” the Sorcerer beseeched him.
“It’s not all about the looks you know,” Archie told them. “I reckon if I marry her we can appease the Sea Kingdom. You see, I’ve really got the hang of this politics lark.”
“Sire I don’t think you’ll be happy with the Mermaid…”
“And once Percy is dead the prophecy cannot possibly come true!”

North of the Kingdom were the Prince and the Assassin, riding their respective steeds as fast as possible towards the Palace. However, they had been riding since dawn so that such thirsty work made them stop at an Inn.
Leaving the horses outside, they went into the Inn for some ale and a Ploughman’s lunch. Seating themselves in a booth in the corner, the Innkeeper’s daughter presented them with two plates of their so called lunch.
“And you’re charging us five guineas for this?” the Prince eyed the damp lettuce, stale cheese and Pie in front of him. “What’s in the Pie?”
“Bog monster!” she announced proudly.
“Bog monster?” the Prince exclaimed before pushing his plate away. “Since when did that count as meat?”
“Oh well, times are hard,” she shook her head. “We can’t use expensive meat like beef, pork or rat anymore. Not since the Prince Regent put farming taxes up. No, we love bog monster around these parts. My little boy has been raised on the stuff.”
She pointed across the room where a five year old green skinned child was making jerky movements and banging his head against the fireplace.
“Take it away,” the Prince ordered her so that the offending items were removed. “I can’t believe what has happened to this kingdom!”
“I know,” nodded the Assassin before sipping his ale having not yet taken off his helmet and visor.
“When I catch up with the Prince Regent he’ll get a nasty surprise!”
Now it just so happened that in the booth behind them sat one of the Prince Regent’s spies. This odious wretch of a goblin went by the name of Vasterbalk. He had served the Prince Regent for several years and was responsible for many a man being dragged off to imprisonment or execution for bad mouthing their ruler. This very day he had been heading West to infiltrate a band who were taking arms against the Prince Regent. However, on hearing what the Prince had to say, his ears pricked up.
“What’s your proper name?” the Prince asked of the Assassin. “It can’t be ‘The Big Fist’ surely?”
“No,” he shook his head. “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you. My real name is Hilary.”
“What a lovely name!”
“Thanks. This was my last hit. It was going to pay for my future.”
“Your future?” asked the Prince. “Retiring to the Costa Brava are you?”
“Eh?”
“A resort in Spain.”
“Where?”
“In Europe!”
“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about Your Majesty,” shrugged Hilary. “But once I am paid I will have my final operation.”
“Operation?” puzzled the Prince.
“Yes,” Hilary removed his visor and helmet to reveal his long hair and mascara.
At this point Vasterbalk threw the hood of his cloak over his head and left the Inn.
“Hilary!” exclaimed the Prince. “I like what you’ve done with your hair.”
“Thanks. There are some things you can do without a surgeon or hormones.”
“So I see,” nodded the Prince. “You will excuse me please Hilary, I am not knowledgeable about such matters.”
“Oh no!” Hilary’s face fell. “You aren’t going to have me imprisoned are you?”
“Certainly not!” the Prince was appalled. “What do you think this is? The Dark Ages?”
“Well yes frankly.”
“Not a bit of it! Live and let live I say. You must know my background?”
“Yes, I had heard things, although there’s been a lot of denials from the Prince Regent.”
“Denials?”
“Yes, he’s been saying you are straight.”
“Straight? How dare he?! There are some in this realm that need to know that people like me are out there and that it is okay to be yourself!”
“I agree your Majesty,” nodded Hilary. “I would never have decided to have the change without you being so open. I don’t think anyone really believes the Prince Regent, they just all pretend to so he doesn’t punish them.”
Ten minutes later Hilary and the Prince departed the Inn to discover both their horses were unconscious on the floor.
“What on Earth is wrong with them?” the Prince threw a bucket of water over Percy but it failed to bring him round.
“They’ve been drugged sire,” Hilary announced after pulling back Percy’s eyelids to see his pupils. “The plot thickens.”
“Great!” the Prince cried. “They’ll be out for the count for hours!”
“The question is,” began the Assassin. “Who drugged them?”
“I wonder…”
“And who are they working for?”
“Yes…well that would be the next…”
“And now to the Royal Palace where…” Hilary stopped suddenly as the Prince eyed him irritably.
“Are you sure you’re not being paid to point out the bleeding obvious to help narrate?”
“No sire,” Hilary shook his head before speaking quietly through the corner of his mouth. “Now to the Royal Palace where the Prince Regent was about to have all revealed to him by the Mermaid…”
“Did you just say something?” frowned the Prince.
“No sire,” Hilary shrugged innocently.

Meanwhile, thanks to Hilary we can move on seamlessly to the Palace where the Prince Regent was by the moat.
“Now!” he proclaimed to his advisors and half the population of the county. “I shall wed this fair aquatic maiden!”
Everyone looked down at the water but the Mermaid failed to appear.
“Oh Mermaid, dear Mermaid,” called Archie over the side. “Your darling Archie is here to ask you a little question…”
At that moment the Mermaid popped her head above the water. Many a young child’s eyes were covered by their responsible parents as the Mermaid’s naked and, by now, infamous ‘D’ cups hoved into view. A collective sigh went about the place.
Archie had noticed the Sorcerer and the Dwarf admiring her and immediately clipped each of them about the ears before turning to the lady in question.
“You called?” the Mermaid scowled at the Prince Regent.
“Ah my dear,” Archie simpered. “Don’t be grumpy. I wanted to ask you a question.”
“Oh, did you indeed?” she folded her arms and a collective groan could be heard about the place.
“Yes but, before I do, please come out of the water and get up here so I may ask you properly?”
“I can’t!” she eyed him as if he were an idiot.
“Oh come on,” he feigned a laugh as he turned to the crowd with a theatrical wink. “Don’t play hard to get!”
“This is going to be embarrassing,” remarked the Sorcerer.
“Are you really that stupid?” she rolled her eyes at Archie.
“Yes…” nodded the Sorcerer.
Everyone turned to stare at him.
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Anyway!” Archie kicked him in the shin prior to turning back to the Mermaid. “Why can’t you come up here?”
“This is why!” the Mermaid dived beneath the water for a moment whilst most of the crowd waited with baited breath.
Seconds later there was a mighty splash as she sprung from the water and high into the air, swishing her tail about the place. The crowd gasped as she turned in mid air to dive back in, slapping her lower half against the water so that the Prince Regent and his advisors were soaked from head to toe.
As the Mermaid disappeared to the bed of the moat, the Prince Regent was
catatonic.
“Sire?” the Dwarf tapped him on the arm as a few chortles could be heard amongst the crowd.
“What was that?” Archie asked, his eyes remained fixed to the water.
“The Mermaid sire,” explained the Sorcerer.
“And was that a tail she had?”
“Eh yes.”
“And do all Mermaids and Mermen have those?”
“Eh yes sire,” the Dwarf said. “How did you think they were such fast swimmers?”
“I thought the inevitable amount of in-breeding that goes on in small communities had given them webbed feet.”
To say that Archie was humiliated would be an understatement.
“I want her to be made an example of!” Archie raged as he sat on his throne and a servant brought him a goblet of wine. “I’ll teach her to have no legs!”
“Sire you can’t!” they implored him.
“I am Prince Regent!” roared Archie after glugging back his wine in one. “And I shall execute who I want!”
“But sire!” the Dwarf went on one knee. “I’m begging you! If we go down this route there will be a civil war! The whole realm will be a place of bloodshed.”
“Beware the sound of thundering hooves!” the Sorcerer pointed at Archie.
“Damn it!” Archie relented for a moment. “I had forgotten the Prophecy. When will that warped Assassin return with the news I crave to hear?”
At that moment a messenger raced into the court holding a parchment in his hand. On reaching the carpet before the throne, he stopped.
“Your Majesty! News from the sea!”
“Yes?” Archie raised an eyebrow as his advisors held their heads in their hands.
“The Mermen have declared war on Your Majesty!”
“Ooh! I’m terrified!” mocked the Prince Regent. “Someone fetch my waders and fishing rod!”
The messenger was somewhat disappointed as he’d expected his revelation to have a greater impact.
A second later and another figure entered the court. In his cloak with the hood still up, it was Vasterbalk. He reached the carpet, threw back the hood and bowed in front of the Prince Regent.
“What now?” Archie regarded him disdainfully. “You’re meant to be infiltrating those renegades in the West!”
“Sire,” Vasterbalk had a crafty glint in his eye. “I return with news of a plot against you.”
“Tell me all!”
The servant brought another goblet of wine for the Prince Regent but it was intercepted by the Sorcerer who downed it in one, having beaten the Dwarf to it using his height advantage.
“I was in an Inn to the West of here and I encountered the Prince and his dastardly horse!”
“The Prince? Percy?” cried Archie. “Here? In the Kingdom? Why isn’t that damn horse dead?”
“It would appear,” continued Vasterbalk. “That they have befriended your Assassin who, far from carrying out his mission, has joined in arms with them.”
“The traitor!” Archie shrieked prior to turning to his advisors. “I knew that cross dressing freak wasn’t to be trusted! Didn’t I tell you?”
“No,” they shrugged.
“Wasn’t it one of you who recommended him?”
“No.”
“Actually sire,” pointed out Vasterbalk. “I believe it was your Highness who discovered him.”
“What?”
“Yes sire, after that drunken night out you went on to that club…”
“I don’t care who hired him!” ranted Archie. “Assassin or not, he’ll get his operation alright. He won’t even have to pay for it.”
“Anyway sire,” Vasterbalk told his master. “I drugged Percy and the Assassin’s horse so that their progress has been delayed.”
“You only drugged him?” Archie took a step back. “You should’ve killed him! Can’t you see? The Prophecy is coming true!”
“Yes,” nodded the Dwarf. “It does rather seem that way. Oh well, you can’t win them all…”
“What do you mean?” Archie leapt at him and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. “We’re not giving up!”
“But sire!” the Sorcerer tried reasoning with him. “You’ve said yourself that the Prophecy is coming true. Why try resisting it?”
“I’ll never let that damn horse win!” Archie pushed the Dwarf to the floor before going to Vasterbalk. “I want my best archers sent out to the West. They are to kill Percy and the Assassin on sight.”
“What about the Prince?” Vasterbalk asked.
“He’ll flee once they’ve been killed!”

Percy slowly came round and the first thing he saw was the Prince standing over him uttering some kind and heartfelt words of encouragement.
“Come on Percy you lazy sod! Get up!”
Percy stood unsteadily before collapsing again.
“Come on!” the Prince cried. “We’ve got to get to the Palace!”
“Sorry sire, my legs are like jelly.”
“We’re doomed!” the Prince turned to the Assassin who was staring up at the evening sky and holding his crossbow.
“You might be right there,” the Assassin murmured.
The Prince looked up to see something on the horizon.
“Run for cover,” the Assassin raised his weapon and took aim. “I’ll see if I can take care of it.”
“No!” the Prince pulled on his arm. “It’s fine!”
“Your Majesty, it’ll tear us limb from limb. It’s already spotted us as look…it’s heading this way. Oh no…” a bead of sweat rolled down the Assassin’s forehead. “There’s more than one.”
“It’s fine!” the Prince insisted. “They’re our friends!”
The Dragon and his display team flew overhead and, as one broke away to spiral around in a corkscrew breathing balls of fire out across the sky, three others formed an arrow and did a loop the loop. The Dragon himself landed gracefully in front of the Prince and a wary Hilary who was still gripping his crossbow.
“Hello you old queen!” the Dragon greeted the Prince with a big smile. “Fancy a lift?”