So our gallant heroes and Archie had found their separate ways to the Royal Palace to reveal what the naughty, meddlesome and scandal mongering Sorcerer had been up to. And now dear and loyal reader, after a long and exhausting journey full of ills, spills and talking horses, you are in for a finale jam packed with heroic deeds and chivalry.
“Finale?” I hear you protest.
Yes, this will be the last in the popular series as our characters are all likely to move on. Percy is in demand from Bollywood to Hollywood, Prince Charming is wanted in Brighton and the Minstrel has mentioned becoming a politician.
Cutting to the chase, Archie, the Minstrel and housewives favourite Percy had made it to the royal court where the King was seated on his throne reading. I say ‘reading’ but actually the magazine he was perusing was more of the “visual stimulation” variety.
“Your Majesty!” Archie marched up to the King and did an almighty
flourish prior to bowing.
“Eh Archie…” the King shoved that months edition of ‘Cocks and Coronets’ in his tunic before regarding the younger man in surprise. “What are you doing here? I thought you were under lock and key!”
“Please your Majesty!” gulped Archie. “We are your faithful servants! We rode all this way to uncover the disgraceful treachery of the Sorcerer!”
“Faithful servants?” snorted the King with a glare at the three of them as
Percy and the Minstrel appeared behind Archie who arose. “What kind of faithful servants break out of my dungeon? If you were that damned faithful you would have happily done the decent thing and let yourself be executed in the morning!”
“But sire,” stammered Archie. “This is all a huge mistake! We won’t tell
another living soul about these scandalous rumours the Sorcerer has been
spreading!”
The room went deadly quiet as the King’s face fell. Suddenly his face
twitched a little.
“What exactly has that blasted Sorcerer been saying?” he asked suspiciously.
“Well sire,” Archie gulped again. “He’s been claiming that, and please
remember that we hotly denied it on your royal behalf, well he’s been saying that you might have once upon a time been a teeny weeny bit eh…”
“Yes!” the King’s face twitched again but this time a little more violently.
“How can I put this?” reddened Archie turning to his companions.
“Let me put it into song sire,” the Minstrel bowed before strumming his lute.
The King’s face twitched again, his left eye blinking several times. “There was a King who people thought solid as a rock…”
“What a jaunty melody,” remarked Percy who swished his tail from side to side and tapped his hoof in time.
“But then it came to pass he loved to suck…”
Archie coughed loudly before seizing the lute and snapping it in half over his knee.
“Why’d you do that?” protested the Minstrel in surprise. “I was just getting to the best bit!”
“Oh, it’s a shame you broke your instrument then isn’t it?” Archie threw it to the floor to stamp on it several times.
“Don’t worry sire,” the Minstrel cheerfully told the King. “I can sing
unaccompanied.”
There was a loud thud followed by a groan as the Minstrel was mysteriously doubled up in pain. It might have had something to do with the hefty raised kneecap that Archie had administered to his groin.
“Enough!” barked the King. “I think I get the picture.”
“Phew!” Archie sighed in relief. “Excellent your Majesty! So you can see that we were acting in your best interests as your subjects and understand that this whole execution thing was a misunderstanding.”
“Yes Archie,” nodded the King. “I understand and you know what a fair and generous King I’ve always been…”
“Oh yes your Majesty!”
Outside Prince Charming and his posse were fast approaching the entrance to the Palace as the cannon balls rained down on them.
“Can’t you get rid of those things?” the Prince cried to the Sorcerer as he
ducked behind an Oak tree to narrowly avoid one.
“Do you know? You’d think being a Sorcerer, I could do.”
“Is that a yes or a no?” the Prince leapt away from the tree as another cannon ball hit its top and set the branches and leaves alight.
The Dragon yelped in agony as a cannon ball flew past him and singed the same wing that had been wounded North of the Kingdom by the Trolls. Worse was to follow however as another tree was set alight by a cannon ball.
“Oh no!” the Prince pointed to the remains of the tree as the flames subsided.
There, in front of the horrified adventurers, burnt to a crisp was the Sheep.
“The talking sheep!” the Dwarf shook his head sadly.
“I never should have put that curse on it,” cried the Sorcerer ruefully.
“That’s it!” the Prince declared. “We shall win this day for the sheep!”
“Yes! Now I’m really flocking mad!” the Dwarf said thus making the others all stop to regard him distastefully.
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” the Prince shook his finger at him.
“Sorry…” the Dwarf blushed. “Kebab anyone?”
“You get worse and worse!” sighed Percy.
“Yes,” the Dwarf nodded. “It was in baaahed taste.”
“Enough!” the Prince pointed at the guards aiming the cannon at them.
“They must be in range now surely?”
“I think so,” the Dwarf produced his crossbow. “Like lambs to the slaughter…”
“Seriously?”
Down in the dungeon a very glum Archie and the Minstrel sat behind bars.
“I must say,” began the Minstrel. “I am really disappointed in the King. To execute us after all we’ve done?”
“I know,” Archie rolled his eyes.
“It makes me want to sing the blues…”
“Don’t you dare!” Archie poked him in the ribs.
“You had better buy me a new lute!” remonstrated the Minstrel. “I want an electric one!”
“Why’d you want one of those? It’s all just noise! Anyway, we’ll be dead by the morning.”
“Good shooting Dwarf!” the Prince congratulated the ugly sharp shooter as three guards all lay dead so that the cannon fire had stopped. “I tell you what, if I ever meet the person who invented that death trap I’ll skewer them with my sword.”
“Speaking of skewers your Majesty,” the Sorcerer took his sword from the Prince and approached the sheep.
“You can’t eat him!” cried the Prince.
“Waste not want not,” replied the Sorcerer as he mumbled a spell and a
bottle of chilli sauce appeared in his hand.
At that moment some more guards marched out from the Palace. They all
bowed in front of the Prince.
“What was the meaning of that?” the Prince demanded, indicating the
cannon and it’s trail of destruction.
“I’m dreadfully sorry my liege,” explained the Sergeant. “We were defending the Palace from the Dragon. We had no idea that he was one of your party.”
“Take me to the King!”
The Prince, the Dwarf and the Dragon were led by the Sergeant across the Palace and into the court where the King was alone still idly flicking through his magazine. Hearing footsteps, he looked up abruptly and immediately shoved the magazine in his tunic and grabbed a cushion from behind him on the throne and placed it over his midriff.
“Your Majesty,” announced the Sergeant. “Your son Prince Charming is
here!”
“What the Hell is that thing doing here?” the King was beside himself as he saw the Dragon.
“Don’t worry,” the Prince reassured him as the four of them stopped in front of him on the throne. “He is harmless.”
“He better had be!” the King glowered at the Sergeant. “How did that thing get in here? Where are all my guards?”
“They’ve all been distracted sire,” the Sergeant shrugged. “A kebab van has been set up in the grounds and they all decided to take a break.”
“Anarchy!” the King cried. “And what the blazes is a ‘kebab’?”
“Listen father,” began the Prince. “We have come here to discuss something with you. On our travels we discovered a Sorcerer who told us a deep, dark secret about you.”
“Really?” the twitch returned.
“Yes…”
“What Sorcerer?” the King stuttered.
“Here I am!” the man himself announced his presence in the court as he
strode in wearing a white overall and holding a skewer in one hand and a carving knife in the other.
The King’s upper neck and body started twitching.
“Here he is father,” the Prince told the King before frowning. “What’s
wrong?”
“Nothing! Bastard!”
“Right,” the Prince was fairly used to abuse from his old man but was a little perturbed by all the mad twitching. “Now come on father. Just because you and this Sorcerer fell out all those years ago…”
“Wanker!”
“Now father, I know you’re the King but show some decorum!”
“Bollocks!”
“Isn’t it time you respected me?” the Prince approached the throne where his father was sat wriggling about with his eyes flitting from side to side.
“Tosser!” snarled the Monarch as he shot to his feet.
“What’s wrong with him?” the despairing Prince turned to the others.
“It’s very sad,” the Sorcerer shook his head. “But the King was so ashamed of his sexuality that he repressed it. Unfortunately, when he gets nervous he betrays some of his physical characteristics.”
“What are you talking about?”
“His Tourette’s seems to have returned.”
Percy, having appeared in the court, stamped his hooves thus making them all turn to him.
“Surely sire the King’s denial of his true sexuality hasn’t made him develop Tourette’s Syndrome? This is all getting a bit silly!”
“Toss!”
“I didn’t write this Percy,” the Prince told him. “I just starred in it.”
“Bastard!”
“Now Percy there’s no need for…”
“That was your father sire.”
“Oh so it was. Why’s the floor wet?”
A pool of urine lay just beneath where the King was seated.
“Oh and his bladder control has gone as well,” remarked the Sorcerer.
“Why doesn’t he go the lavatory like normal people?”
“I’m not really sure,” he shrugged.
“I know why!” Percy volunteered. “If the rumours are correct, he goes and pees in the bath when he’s sitting in the hot water and bubbles and playing with his rubber duck!”
“Quack quack?” asked the King so that they hauled him away into a nearby closet before locking it and returning to the court to discuss the situation.
After a long conversation they decided to call in the guards and pretend that everything was normal.
“I think I’ll have to run the place until the old man is back on his feet,” the Prince grumbled. “Shame as I was having a great time up North.”
“Yes,” nodded the Dragon. “I can’t wait to get up there.”
“Sire,” the Sorceror sighed. “I don’t think he’ll ever be back on his feet.”
“No?”
“No.”
“But he’s got a Kingdom to run!”
“We’ve been reviewing the situation,” the conversation continued during a banquet in the main dining hall.
“You looking forward to the executions?” the Sergeant asked the Prince as he chomped on a drumstick.
“What executions?”
“The Minstrel and your old manservant. They’re getting brutally executed in the morning. It’s a sell out.”
Spirits weren’t high down in the dungeon as Archie and the Minstrel passed the time.
“I spy with my little eye…” began the Minstrel.
“Shut up!” yelled Archie. “We’ve done ‘B’ for bars, ‘D’ for dungeon, ‘S’ for stone and ‘N’ for No way out!”
“Temper temper!” the Minstrel told him before the pair of them were alerted to the sound of footsteps.
Prince Charming and the Dwarf marched into the dungeon.
“Your Majesty!” Archie leapt up and clutched the bars of the cell.
“Good evening Archie,” the Prince smiled before producing a set of keys
which he threw to the Dwarf who used them to unlock the door to their cell. “Long time no see.”
“I bet you were worried about me my lord!”
“Eh?”
“Didn’t you think I was dead?”
“Oh yes, come to think of it you were down as dead for a while.”
“I suppose there was a massive funeral?”
“Funeral?” the Prince frowned and turned to the Dwarf.
“We didn’t have one sire,” the Dwarf told him.
“So what then?” Archie’s face fell as he walked out of the cell. “Weren’t you going to have one?”
Again the Prince and the Dwarf regarded one another in puzzlement before the former spoke up.
“Well actually Archie old chap,” he squeezed Archie’s arm. “We never
thought you were dead.”
“So why didn’t you come looking for me?” a tear welled in his eye.
“We did!” the Prince put his arm around his shoulders with an uneasy smile. “Of course we wouldn’t forget about you Archie.”
“No?”
“No! We knew you’d be okay, being such a brave and resourceful warrior!”
Archie’s mood changed as the Prince led them from the dungeon and into the
court. He told Archie of his adventures as they supped ale at the head table.
“So what of you two?” the Prince finally asked of the Minstrel and Archie.
The two of them looked at one another in exasperation.
“Well your Majesty,” piped up Archie. “After escaping from the caves I
wandered into the night. Going days without food or sleep, I finally chanced upon Percy…”
“Really?” frowned the Prince. “I haven’t quite got to the bottom of why Percy fled whilst we were staying at the Inn?”
“Yes!” said the Dragon who was chewing on a roasted pigs trotter.
They all turned to look firstly at Archie before their eyes rested on Percy.
“I was abducted by an evil horse rustler,” Percy explained. “He planned to sell me on to a merchant…”
“A horse rustler?” cried the Prince. “How dare he? Where is he Percy, I’ll
have him severely punished!”
“He’s dead,” added Archie.
“What?” they all turned back to the Prince’s manservant who went pink
before gulping.
“Yes!” Percy cried. “Archie discovered what was happening and took
revenge.”
“Good,” the Prince nodded. “But you didn’t need to kill him Archie.”
“Oh yes I did,” Archie nodded abruptly. “Anyway, suffice to say, he’s
definitely dead and that’s an end to it.”
“I see,” the Prince said.
“Doesn’t explain how the Minstrel got here?” spoke up the Sorcerer
suspiciously. “And how you managed to get the cannon balls here despite them only previously being available in that Fortress in the North.”
“Who asked you Mr Magic Pants?” spat Archie.
“Something peculiar has gone on,” the Prince said thoughtfully.
“Not at all sire,” Archie shook his head. “To sum up, I didn’t mistakenly take Percy and he definitely didn’t invent gunpowder thus allowing the King’s guards to fire at you all thus wounding the Dragon.”
“Good,” the Prince nodded in satisfaction but the Dragon was less than
amused.
“And on that point we need to go and tend to the….eh…” Archie tugged on the Minstrel’s arm and made to leave.
“The garden?” the Minstrel suggested as Archie pulled on Percy’s reins.
“Yes! The garden!” the three of them departed the room as the Dragon
picked the pork from between his teeth using one of his claws.
Whilst the “Cannon ball” three ensured all incriminating evidence or
witnesses were either eliminated or bribed, the others decided what to do with the King.
“The poor chap has suffered a severe break down,” the Sorcerer shook his head sadly.
“Yes,” the Prince sighed. “I’ll have to rule as regent for a while. It’s the last thing I wanted to do. All the politics are so boring.”
“And you’re forgetting the demands on the modern Monarch,” added the Dwarf. “Opening fetes, setting up charities, being under threat from terrorists…”
“What now?” the Prince’s eyebrows were knitted.
“Yes, terrorists! Three times in the last year we’ve had attempts on the
King’s life. There was the Gunpowder plot but that went wrong when the
conspirators realised that the key ingredient had yet to be invented. But now it’s been invented, well I’m sure they’ll be planning something. Then there was the suicide jouster…”
“Suicide jouster?” things were sounding rather more complicated than the Prince had envisaged.
“Yes sire,” continued the Dwarf cheerfully. “Strange one that. A masked
jouster charged at the King during a joust tournament and completely missed him. He then took his own life afterwards by impaling himself on his own jousting spear. That was a messy affair!”
“I see,” gulped the Prince.
“And there was apparently a plot to hijack a dragon and crash it into the
castle! But that would only work if they could somehow befriend a dragon and
persuade it to let them ride it.”
Everyone turned to the Dragon.
“Hey, at the right price!” he shrugged.
“Right then! Change of plan!” the Prince arose from his seat at the head of the table. “Archie!”
“You shrieked sire?” Archie stood in front of the King a moment later as
Percy stood behind him trying to surreptitiously eat the parchments containing his gunpowder plans.
“Yes Archie. Listen, the lads and I have been chin wagging and we have
decided it would be best for me to return North.”
“Really sire?”
“Yes. But with my father going into early retirement, we’ll need someone to rule in my absence. I appoint you as regent!”
A silence went about the court.
“Me? Regent?”
“Yes! What do you think Percy?” he appealed to the horse behind the new regent. “You’re very quiet!”
Still swallowing the parchments, all Percy could manage was a nod of
agreement. Archie was gob smacked and simply sat down staring into space.
“You will have advisors of course!” the Prince reassured him. “The Sorcerer and the Dwarf can do that while I head North with Percy and the Dragon.”
“Hang on!” interrupted the Sorcerer. “I don’t want to advise this moron!”
“I will lift all the court orders…” the Prince promised him.
“Of course I want to advise this moron! We can’t have a King without an
advisor, can we?”
“So that’s it settled then!” the Prince smiled.
“Not quite!” moaned the Minstrel. “What about me? Nobody ever thinks about the talent!”
“You can be Court Minstrel!” the Prince decreed.
Archie held his head in his hands.
“Everything is settled then!” the Prince clapped his hands together.
“Yes!” Percy agreed after sighing one last time.
“I shall ride North in the morning. In the meantime let’s have a big banquet to celebrate!”
“Sire,” the Sorcerer began. “I’ve been thinking. That woman that I put the curse on…”
“Helena? Are you going to lift the curse?”
“Oh no. I wouldn’t have a clue how to do that! No, I was thinking, how about if she and the Dwarf were to marry? Let’s face it, neither of them will ever find anyone else and we could do with some way of filling the next three or four pages.”
“Excellent suggestion!” the Prince enthused. “See? You’ll make a wonderful advisor! Where is Princess Helena?”
“Funny you should mention that sire,” the Minstrel said. “She’s actually on her way here in a convoy from her father’s Kingdom. Apparently she’ll be staying the evening.”
“Really?” the Prince was shocked. “How convenient! And strange
considering my father had her banned from the Kingdom for being so hideously repugnant.”
“Yes,” nodded the Sorcerer. “It’s all falling into place for the Dwarf here!”
“Hang on, hang on!” protested the Groom. “I might not want to get married to a pig!”
“Now come on!” Archie popped out of his trance. “Now’s not the time to get fussy. But for Heaven’s sake, do not procreate!”
“That wouldn’t matter!” the Sorcerer corrected him. “It’s not all in the
genes, I put curses on them remember?”
“I don’t care!” replied Archie. “I just don’t want two such disgusting beings having sex under my roof. If I want to hear that kind of thing I’ll go to the farmyard thank you very much!”
The next few hours were spent preparing for the wedding although no actual proposal had been made. Most people felt fairly sure that neither party would turn down the chance however. The Prince took the Dwarf to his quarters where he dressed him for the occasion.
As the Dwarf stood in front of the looking glass in a silk, pink frilly shirt and black latex trousers, he blushed.
“Sire, I’m not sure it’s quite me.”
“You look fab!” the Prince wrapped a lilac coloured feather boa around his neck. “Perfect!”
“You’re bloody right it’s not you!” Archie had kindly come along to give his opinion as well. “You look a complete tit. It’s bad enough your face could be used for contraceptive purposes let alone you go about wearing this rubbish!”
“Archie!” the Prince rolled his eyes. “Since when did you know about style?”
“Fine right then whatever,” Archie went to leave the room. “I never thought the Dwarf could ever possibly look worse but I’ve got to congratulate you Sire for proving otherwise!”
As Archie left the room, the Prince rustled about in a trunk before producing a red bow tie with yellow polka dots on it to put around the Dwarf’s neck.
“Why are you doing this to me sire?” a tear glistened in the Dwarf’s eye as he regarded himself in the looking glass again.
“Because you deserve it!”
The looking glass cracked before completely shattering so that the shards of glass all fell to the floor.
“Like I needed seven years bad luck…”
“She’s coming!” hollered Archie from downstairs. “And that’s the last time I want to say that!”
The convoy was granted entry through the front gates although stringent checks were made that the Princess was wearing a bag over her head in case any children were around. Her coach stopped in front of the main entrance so that she was shown out by her footman and butler.
“Right then,” the Prince stood at the entrance with an anxious Dwarf. “I’ll introduce you and then you can do the honours.”
“Okay sire,” gulped the Dwarf. “Thanks for the ring by the way.”
“Oh yes! Hopefully it will bring you luck. It belonged to mother!”
“Your mother? Is this the same mother who married a man who was
repressing his true sexuality and consequently subjected her to years of his bullying before she was run over by that rabid donkey?”
“That’s Mummy!”
“Excellent sire. I’m sure Princess Helena will enjoy wearing it.”
The Princess stumbled up to them, guided by her butler. A snooty middle aged man, he regarded the Dwarf distastefully before tugging on the bag to have it removed from the head of the Princess.
“No!” the Prince stopped him. “You know the rules! Not outside!”
“Okay Prince,” the butler managed a thin smile prior to hauling his mistress indoors.
In the great hall of the Palace the Princess stood in front of the fascinated crowd. The Sorcerer had sold tickets to the King’s guards, so interested were they to see the phenomenon.
“It shouldn’t be allowed,” Archie muttered to the Minstrel. “Surely it’s
against human rights?”
“Yes, the Sorcerer should never have done it.”
“I’m not on about her human rights. Is she even human? No, I mean ours!”
The butler gave a dramatic pause and removed the bag.
The Prince shuddered.
Archie vomited.
Percy fainted.
“Good luck,” the Prince pushed the Dwarf into the firing line.
“Nobody told me she was this bad!” the Dwarf edged away from his bride to be. “My word! And why’s she drooling?”
“I think she likes you,” cooed her butler.
“No!” the Dwarf backed further away but found himself pushed back to the Princess by the Sorcerer and the Prince.
“I can’t look!” Archie wiped his mouth.
“Just bend down and get on with it!” the Sorcerer ordered the Dwarf.
“I hear that all the time,” the Prince had a distant look in his eyes.
“Get on one knee!” the Sorcerer pushed the Dwarf to the floor. “Why?”
“Poor bastard,” Archie said from behind his hands.
“It’s more romantic!” insisted the Sorcerer.
“Princess Helena,” the Dwarf stammered as he shuffled from one knee to the other. “May I have the honour…am I really doing this?”
“It’s time you got laid and this is the only way,” the Sorcerer told him.
“Listen to Doctor Romance,” snorted Percy.
“It’s a shame the sheep died,” remarked Archie.
“Princess Helena…” began the Dwarf as a tear welled in his eye.
“Yes?” the dear, sweet Princess gnawed her lip curiously but tenderly.
“Will you do me the honour of taking my hand in marriage?”
The whole place waited in silent anticipation.
“I’m sorry, what?” she frowned.
“Oh for crying out loud!” sighed the Dwarf. “Will you do me the honour of taking my hand in marriage?”
A huge slobbery, globule of saliva dropped from the corner of the Princess’s mouth and splashed onto the Dwarf’s head.
“Is that a no?” he checked with her butler hopefully.
“On the contrary!” he replied. “She really likes you!”
The Princess licked her lips in delight.
“You come upstairs with me!” she seized the Dwarf by the hand and began dragging him towards the stairs.
“He was a good lad,” Archie watched him go with a mix of admiration and sympathy.
“No your Highness!” the butler pulled them back and looked the Princess in the larger of her three eyes. “Not until after the ceremony!”
“Bum fun after the ceremony?” she growled.
“Yes!” the butler took her upstairs to get her prepared whilst the Dwarf
shuddered.
“All in all, I thought that went well,” the Prince slapped the Dwarf on the
hunchback.
“Really sire? In what way?”
“Now come on, beggars can’t be choosers.”
The Dwarf went off to get a very stiff drink whilst the courtiers prepared the court for the ceremony. The others all decided who would do what amongst themselves. The Sorcerer would hold the service as the Chaplain was still in custody for the nasty incident involving the minor and the superglue. Percy would be page boy. The Minstrel would sing a song at the ceremony. As the Prince would be busy overseeing the décor, he nominated Archie as the best man.
“Best man?” Archie whined as he, Percy and the Dwarf convened in the Inn beforehand as the impromptu stag night began.
“It’s an honour!” Percy pointed out.
“Yes, maybe but I will have to stand near the revolting witch. Imagine when she finally says ‘I do’! Her spittle will be going everywhere! I’m going to insist she keeps her veil down.”
“Why are you wearing a traffic cone on your head and holding an ‘L’
plate?” inquired the Dwarf.
“It’s to put on you!” Archie stuck the ‘L’ plate on his hunchback and
plonked the traffic cone on his head. “It’s the stag night…eh…well…stag evening!”
“Only an hour before the actual wedding ceremony?” Percy sipped from his bucket of carrot ale.
“Eh yes!” Archie. “So unfortunately the pub crawl and the trip to
Amsterdam are both off. We can’t really get very drunk.”
“Speak for yourself!” the Dwarf ripped off the lid from his bottle of Vodka and tipped the contents down his throat. “You heard what she has in store for the wedding night!”
In the court of the palace the decorations had been completed and the seats laid out. The Prince fiddled with the silver and pink sequins on his jacket whilst admiring the room. The lilies adorned the place and a silver balloon was tied to the back of every single chair.
People were starting to file in, they’d come from far and wide. News of the wedding had travelled fast. Upstairs in her quarters the final touches were being applied to the Princess. The Royal Plasterer and decorator had been called in especially.
At the arranged hour the Minstrel began playing ‘The Wedding March’ on the organ. Princess Helena appeared outside the court holding a bouquet with her butler on her arm.
“Where the Hell is the Dwarf?” the Prince whispered to the Dragon.
“Stag night,” he rolled his eyes.
At that point the Dwarf barged past his bride to race up to the front of the court along with Archie. The Sorcerer frowned at the pair of them before shielding his gaze from the bride whose countenance was visible behind the veil.
“Do you Dwarf take this….eh…” the Sorcerer eyed the bride uncertainly.
“Take this thing as your wife?”
The Dwarf turned to Archie with a grimace.
“I do!” the Princess spoke for the Dwarf in a husky voice as a globule of spit passed through the veil and hit her betrothed in the eye.
Ten minutes later they were married. The Dwarf fainted shortly after the
Sorcerer told him he may kiss the bride. Archie carried him upstairs but dumped him in the quarters in which the Princess was residing so who know what horrors were inflicted on him. The Palace guards often spoke about the screams of agony that echoed about the place that night.
In the meantime the others just enjoyed the reception.
“I am looking forward to going back to my own people,” remarked the
Prince to the others as he sipped wine from a goblet.
“Yes,” nodded Archie. “Don’t worry sire, I’ll run this kingdom in the
manner to which it’s been accustomed.”
“Really?” frowned Percy. “But everyone is scared and intimidated for daring to be different!”
Archie adjusted the crown on his head and smiled.
To be continued…
Athon 