If the dear reader has been paying attention (and that is in the singular for a reason) then they (we haven’t established the gender of this clearly mentally deranged individual as of yet) need an update (which they probably do because they’re unlikely to be the sharpest knife in the drawer if they’re reading this drivel) then here it all is.
This ‘ain’t Shakespeare.
Nonetheless, the Prince has basically whored out Percy to the Evil Queen to bring the war in the Realm to an end. I know, right? But poor old Percy is preparing for his wedding with the Botox addicted witch.
Meanwhile…(it gets better) the Emperor has been tricked into paying a substantial fee to the Weaver who the Prince and Percy now suspect is actually Archie. Yes Archie. The beneficiary of appearance changing powers from the Warlock. Once he posed as the Tailor who fooled a Giant of all fellows into believing he possessed mighty strength.
Archie, posing as the Weaver, had offered his services to the Emperor in making a new set of clothes for him to be worn by the Emperor. Having little or no experience of making clothes, the Weaver came up with the ruse that he was making them using magical thread which some people could not see. He had told the Emperor that only special people could see the garments and that those who could not were ‘stupid’ and ‘incompetent’.
Therefore, the Emperor had believed he was wearing a new set of clothes and that his Chief Courtier and other advisers were ‘stupid’ and ‘incompetent’ for not seeing that he was. This led to him parading about naked on the balcony of the palace in front of hundreds of his subjects which, the reader can probably appreciate, caused somewhat of a stir.
Unfortunately, the Emperor was stubborn and maintained that he had not exposed himself in public and that everyone else were ‘stupid’ and incompetent’ much to the dismay of his staff.
Proceedings had become more surreal when the Emperor, declining the robe his Chief Courtier begged him to adorn, insisted on marching up to the Evil Queen’s army and arguing with their General.
The Weaver, who had been wise enough to disappear with his new found wealth, had been caught by one of the Emperor’s guards but, to the shock of nearly everyone, managed to persuade the Emperor, who now realized he was naked, that there had been a big mistake and the outfit must have gone missing. To compound this, the Emperor was convinced by the Weaver to begin work on a whole new outfit for him.
The Prince and Percy had returned to the palace of the Emperor where they took time to explain that they had reached an agreement with the Evil Queen.
“So then,” the Chief Courtier nodded as he stood between Percy, the Prince and the Emperor sat on his throne. “In summary, the Evil Queen will call off the hostilities. That is crucial. But, sorry to focus on the finer details, I am a little confused about what she is getting in return?”
“Are you?” said the Prince.
“Oh, does it matter?” sighed the Emperor. “She’s giving up! I bet it was my appearance in public that did it! She probably took one look and was intimidated by my aura and physique!”
“But,” began the Chief Courtier. “I’m not saying that isn’t the case but it seems rather easy. Simple. That she would stop the war with relatively little persuasion or threat hanging over her. What exactly is she getting out of it?”
“It is quite complicated,” shrugged the Prince. “Lots of legal technicalities and terms and conditions.”
“I am the Emperor’s chief courtier and adviser. I am sure I can comprehend what was negotiated.”
“Well…” the Prince regarded Percy nervously before clearing his throat.
“No sire…” Percy pleaded.
“What have you done?” the Chief Courtier asked suspiciously.
“Oh come on, does it really matter?” the Emperor tutted.
“Yes, it does!” he insisted. “I am concerned that they have compromised in some way. Accepted a deal that could come back to bite us.”
“Okay…okay…” the Prince lost patience. “But we must keep this within these four walls!”
“Sire!” protested Percy.
“Do you swear to secrecy?” the Prince regarded the Chief Courtier and the Emperor in earnest.
“We do,” said the Chief Courtier quickly. “Now tell us!”
“Percy? Do you want to explain?” the Prince turned to his old friend.
“Explain that I have been sold out?”
“What’s going on?” the Chief Courtier raised an eyebrow. “’Sold out’? The glue factory?”
“No, worse than that,” replied Percy. “The Evil Queen came to the negotiating table with one demand.”
“Yes?”
“Marriage.”
“Typical! Hang on,” the Chief Courtier pointed at the Prince. “You’re not are you?”
“Oh no,” the Prince shook his head slowly.
“Oh, you haven’t agreed to…” the Chief Courtier gestured to the Emperor on his throne.
“Oh no.”
“Well who then?”
“Me,” Percy said with shame.
“A horse?” gasped the Chief Courtier. “She’s marrying a horse?”
“Yes,” sighed Percy.
“She’s a wrong ‘un!”
“Flipping heck!” exclaimed the Emperor. “She is completely mad!”
“Now come on,” said the Prince. “Who wouldn’t want to marry good old Percy? He’s a catch.”
“Thanks sire.”
“Yes,” said the Chief Courtier. “For other horses! But a marriage betwixt a human and a horse?”
“I’m not exactly ecstatic,” pointed out Percy. “But it got you peace so no need to dwell on it.”
“He’s saved the Realm,” added the Prince. “He’s demonstrated self-sacrifice and, if what I’ve heard about the Evil Queen is true, great bravery.”
“Great bravery sire?”
“You know Percy, what she gets up to in her private quarters?”
“I am a horse sire, I won’t be going in her private quarters.”
“You heard? She won’t let you stay in the stables!”
“Well I suppose we should celebrate then?” said the Emperor. “No more war!”
“Does this mean you won’t have to address your subjects?” asked the Chief Courtier hopefully. “And therefore won’t need your new outfit from that damn Weaver?”
“Oh no!” insisted the Emperor. “I will still need to address the people. To tell them about the end of the war! Of course I will require the Weaver to give me my great new clothes!”
“Oh here we go again…” the Chief Courtier held his head.
“Which reminds me,” said Percy. “Speaking of the Weaver? We have some doubts about him!”
“Really?” cooed the Chief Courtier. “I wonder how that happened?”
“Not that we’re questioning his integrity,” explained the Prince. “That he is a charlatan is obviously a given! No, we are doubting his identity!”
“His identity?” wondered the Emperor. “What are you talking about?”
“I think the Weaver is an enigma,” said the Chief Courtier. “So it doesn’t surprise me what you are saying about him or his origins.”
“We suspect,” explained the Prince. “That he, using magic, has changed his appearance. He is a friend of ours…”
“Friend?” inquired Percy.
“Well…he’s an acquaintance of ours…”
“Bit over familiar I would say.”
“He is an idiot we know,” the Prince shrugged. “And we have had many run ins with him before. A short time ago ironically he changed his appearance completely to pose as a Tailor in an attempt to trick many people. We think this Weaver is him doing it again.”
“What’s this man’s name?” demanded the Chief Courtier.
“Archie.”
“Not that dreadful chap who broke up the Realm Union?”
“That’s him!”
“With all this in mind,” said Percy. “We’d like to interview him. Just to ask him some questions and prove that his latest disguise is a sham.”
“That sounds like a brilliant idea,” the Chief Courtier was delighted.
“No it doesn’t!” the Emperor shouted. “I need this man to make clothes for me! To enhance my wardrobe. I am due to make my address this evening! I suppose your intentions are to trap him and then have him punished in some way?”
“You still think he’s a credible weaver?” the Prince half smiled.
“I certainly do!”
“Then fine,” he exchanged an amused look with both Percy and the Chief Courtier. “We will only interview him after you have presented yourself to the public and made your speech.”
“Good! I am glad you see sense!” the Emperor arose from his throne and marched imperiously from the room.
“Is this a good idea?” the Chief Courtier stammered. “The Emperor is highly likely to embarrass himself all over again!”
“That’s a risk we are willing to take,” nodded the Prince. “Anyway, if he has his new outfit by this evening, makes his address in the non-existent thing, then we can unmask the Weaver and have a few drinks after to celebrate…”
“Commiserate!” Percy corrected him.
“To commiserate Percy’s impending marriage.”
A few hours later, word had spread in the Kingdom that the Emperor was going to make another speech. This caused rather a lot of interest and concern.
“I hope he keeps his bleeding clothes on this time. If I wanted to see the crown jewels, I would go to the exhibition in his tower.”
“I don’t want to see his tower again either!”
The Emperor was viewing his new clothes for the final time. The Weaver had wheeled the tailor’s dummy into this private quarters and unveiled his outfit.
“You will see the finely sewed additional purple sequins Your Dullardness?” the Weaver bowed.
“Yes, yes of course…great work…I think.”
The Emperor looked blankly at the naked dummy.
“And do you appreciate the crushed velvet trousers?” asked the Weaver.
“Yes, claret?”
“Not quite, moron.”
“What was that?”
“Maroon Your Colourblindness. Of a brownish red hue.”
“Oh right.”
“I shall take it into your private quarters in readiness for your public address.”
The Weaver replaced the sheet over the dummy and wheeled it out of the room as the Emperor stood alone scratching his head in confusion.
In anticipation of his address, people were gathering in the palace grounds. The Chief Courtier’s heart sank as he entered the quarters of the Emperor to discover the man himself wearing a robe. He was accompanied by the Prince and a solemn looking Percy.
“Are you going to show us the new clothes Your Majesty?” inquired the Chief Courtier, eyeing the robe disdainfully.
“Certainly not, it’s a surprise!” replied the Emperor.
“Are you sure? Given last time you forgot to actually put them on?”
At that moment the Weaver appeared in the room. Percy and the Prince immediately regarded him dubiously.
“Here for the big moment?” asked Percy.
“Oh yes!” said the Weaver who seemed incredibly pleased with himself. “To see the Emperor in all his glory!”
The Chief Courtier paused to look the Weaver up and down, clearly puzzled.
“A minute of your time please Prince,” he said before leaving the room so that the Prince followed.
“Yes?” asked the Prince once they were out of earshot of the others.
“Surely the Weaver cannot be this other fellow you have told me about? For that matter, I am not convinced he is a charlatan. A bit mad perhaps…”
“Why?”
“You saw him in there! He’s brazen or vacant or both. The last time, he made himself scarce but now he’s actually here to witness this fiasco and probably be held responsible for it! He seems extremely calm despite surely knowing he’s on the brink of an awful lot of trouble. If this plays out like I expect it to and the Emperor sees sense, the Weaver could end up having his head chopped off!”
“Hmm,” the Prince nodded to himself. “You do have a point. If he’s a con merchant, he should have fled with his ill gotten gains, especially as he has managed to get away with it twice.”
“Exactly!” the Chief Courtier earnestly said.
“But,” began the Prince after a thoughtful pause. “It could be typical Archie.”
“How do you mean?”
“He’s not the brightest,” the Prince explained. “He can deceive people with weak minds I admit and tells ridiculous lies which less smart people are taken in by. He’s certainly a coward so I am amazed he hasn’t fled though, so maybe it isn’t him?”
“But even if it isn’t him,” pointed out the Chief Courtier. “Whoever it is, why have they hung about like this when it could be so risky? And why do they look so pleased with themselves?”
“Perhaps he’s just insane?” suggested the Prince. “Either thinking he won’t get in any hot water or will be able to trick the Emperor a third time.”
“Maybe, maybe…”
“Or!” the Prince cried. “There is actually a real outfit under that robe the Emperor has on and the Weaver is genuine.”
“I admire your optimism but I cannot see anything else under that robe! I am prepared to bet the Emperor is naked under it.”
They returned to the room where the Emperor was preparing himself to march out onto the balcony.
“Peace in our time!” he said to himself, apparently rehearsing his address. “I will be able to tell those gathered that the war is over! I won’t tell them the details…”
“Thanks,” said Percy.
“But I will take full credit for the successful negotiations with the Evil Queen!” he said before composing himself and taking a deep breath. “Open the doors!”
“Are you sure you want to do this again?” the Chief Courtier opened the doors onto the balcony.
“Of course I do!” the Emperor stepped forwards untying the robe. “This is a monumental day in my reign.”
There was a hush around those assembled outside as their leader appeared on the balcony and, guess what, had no clothes on whatsoever.
“Oh not again!”
“Does he get a kick out of this?”
“He’s a bloody pervert!”
“My people!” began the Emperor. “I am glad to declare that we have peace in our time!”
“We can see your piece!”
“We seem to be seeing your piece time after time!”
The Emperor was bemused by the reaction of the crowd. He looked down at himself once. Then back at the people below. Then down at himself a second time.
“Oh no! Not again!” he growled after omitting a high pitched shriek.
He hurried back inside, quickly redressing in the robe.
“You see Your Imperialness,” said the Chief Courtier.
“How has this happened all over again?” yelled the Emperor.
“It must be the magical properties of the cotton I used,” suggested a very calm Weaver.
“What?” snapped the Prince.
“Yes, they must have blended with his body to give the impression that the new set of clothes were his body?”
“Are you seriously trying to say?” the Prince rolled his eyes. “That the cotton is like a chameleon?”
“I suppose,” although the Weaver had no idea what the Prince meant.
“May I suggest!” said a shivering Emperor. “That you stop using this bloody magic thread of yours?”
“I suppose I could use more conventional cotton,” conceded the Weaver. “I will do so for your next outfit.”
“Next outfit!” the Chief Courtier exploded. “Oh no! Emperor, I must protest. This man must be punished for deception and skullduggery! Bringing shame to your reputation!”
“I am fairly sure he’s not a weaver,” the Prince pointed at him. “This chain of events have been all too familiar for my liking!”
“What do you mean?” the Weaver took a back step.
“Archie?”
“Yes…I mean…what?” he panicked.
“I see,” the Prince turned to the Emperor. “I am afraid our suspicions were right.”
“I’m not Archie! I am a weaver!”
“Who is this fellow?” the Emperor gave him a dirty look.
“He’s a troublemaker who, somehow, has managed to change his appearance again using magic. But that’s the only magic he knows. Magic cotton indeed?”
“I can assure you, this is a case of mistaken identity…sort of!” stammered Archie or the Weaver or whoever the hell he was.
“You see Emperor,” the Prince smiled. “It suited Archie to change his appearance because he made an enemy of the Evil Queen. If she or her guards encountered him, he would be in serious trouble.”
“I’ve never even met the Evil Queen!” cried the man. “Or been anywhere near her dirty linen basket.”
“I never mentioned her dirty linen basket,” grinned the Prince.
Archie froze.
“Don’t make me turn back…”
“Oh, so you are him?” the Chief Courtier said.
“Okay, okay! Yes, it’s me! I was just trying to make an honest crust by weaving the clothes for the Emperor. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“There wouldn’t have been if you had actually produced some garments!” the Prince sighed. “But no, you being you, you had to cheat and lie!”
“Now come on,” pleaded Archie. “Let’s not get hasty. Assuming the worst…”
“What is the executioner doing this evening?” the Emperor checked with the Chief Courtier.
“I believe he’s probably free…”
“Now please,” Archie’s brow was covered in sweat.
“You ruined my big moment!” shouted the Emperor. “Twice! Tonight I was going to announce to my subjects the joyous news that the war is over!”
“How did you manage to stop the Evil Queen?” Archie regarded the Prince.
“Protracted negotiations,” said the Prince.
“She wouldn’t negotiate!” insisted Archie. “Not unless she was offered a husband or something.”
“Maybe she was.”
“Well who is marrying her then?”
Percy and the Prince looked away in shame.
“Let’s change the subject,” suggested the Chief Courtier before turning to the Emperor. “What do you want doing with this scoundrel?”
“Summon the axe man.”
“Emperor,” the Prince quickly interjected. “I must beseech you to spare this man. He is my responsibility. I must apologize for any embarrassment he has caused you however please spare his life.”
“Damn it,” the Emperor sighed. “As it is you Prince, I shall spare his pathetic and measly little life.”
“Now there’s no need to get personal!” began Archie.
“Just say thank you Archie,” the Prince told him.
“Thank you Archie.”
They all looked at him in a mix of pity and disbelief.
“I think it is time for drinks,” said the Prince.
“Drinks?” asked Archie. “What for?”
“Err…to celebrate the end of the war…of course.”
“Oh…I see.”
The Emperor dressed himself and joined the others in his banqueting hall where they were drinking champagne from gold goblets.
“I’m not sure champagne is really appropriate sire,” said Percy as he eyed the bubbly in the bowl the servants had brought him.
“I think you should enjoy yourself Percy,” said the Prince.
“How can I?”
“You’ve only got a few precious hours left.”
“I suppose,” Percy was glum.
“Before you are permanently enslaved in a life of hellish torture and misery.”
“What’s this all about?” inquired Archie.
“Can you keep a secret?” said the Prince.
“What a ridiculous question,” groaned Percy. “Of course he can’t.”
“For you guys, anything!” said Archie.
“Oh you might as well tell him,” Percy said before taking a long draught of champagne. “I won’t have his company soon. He’d be insufferable otherwise.”
“Okay Percy,” nodded the Prince. “So then Archie. Prepare yourself for a shock.”
“Oh here we go,” Archie moaned. “The Prince is finally going back in the closet for the sake of the Evil Queen?”
“What?”
“Well at least it is the end of all that gay nonsense. At last you’ve come to your senses!”
“It’s literally half an hour since I saved your life?”
“I always said being gay wasn’t sustainable…”
“Will you shut up and listen,” the Prince demanded. “To broker peace with the Evil Queen we had to offer her someone in exchange.”
“Yes, you, you old fraud!”
“No.”
“Not bloody me was it!”
“I think she’s rather gone off you,” the Prince said before hesitating. “She’s marrying Percy.”
“Who is Percy?”
There was a silence before the penny finally dropped.
“Percy?! A bastard horse?”
“Tell me about it,” remarked Percy.
“She has chosen a bloody horse over me?” Archie was apoplectic.
“I suspect your general dishonesty combined with your cowardice put her off,” replied the Prince.
“But this is monstrous! A horse? What is she planning to do with him…”
The Prince smiled as Archie looked at Percy’s under carriage.
“Use your imagination.”
“Oh my word! That is disgraceful! Surely there are laws against this sort of thing?”
“How I wish there were,” grumbled Percy as a few horrible images crossed his mind.
“There could be a way of saving you,” said Archie.
“Could there?”
“We could send in a ringer.”
“Another horse you mean?” asked the Prince.
“Exactly!” grinned Archie. “And it won’t be able to talk and therefore won’t be able to tell on us!”
“But the Evil Queen will smell a rat when the horse cannot speak?” pointed out the Prince.
“It’s a relatively clever plan,” surmised Percy. “But I am not subjecting one of my fellow horses to that. No, no, I will have to face up to my terrifying and ghastly fate.”
“I’ve heard it’s also very damp,” added Archie. “Well, drenched in fact.”
“You’re not helping Archie,” sniffed Percy.
“Sopping wet.”
“Oh lovely.”
“Well Percy old chap,” said the Prince. “We have a precious few final hours together. We could use them to plot a way out of this difficult situation we find ourselves in.”
“Although she’ll have to blow the cobwebs off first,” continued Archie.
The other two regarded him with disgust.
To be continued in ‘Percy’s Wedding’…
Athon 