Prince Charming & The Civil War

Prince Charming & The Civil War

The Kingdom was at odds. You might have got this impression if you had

bothered reading the last umpteen episodes. If you are a loyal and trusted reader

then avoid the next paragraph. If you are a newcomer, let me summarise events for

you my Johnny-come-lately friend.

Prince Charming turns out not to be the virile heterosexual myth had him be.

It also turns out that his horse can talk and that his manservant is a right winged

bigot therefore a questionable choice as the Prince Regent once the King went mad

and his son decided to go north to the Land of the Fairies where his sexuality would

be accepted. Some might say he was perfectly qualified to be in the Royal family

however. But because of his mad actions The Prince was forced to return to the

realm because of his errant manservant. You see Archie has become a slightly

unhinged despot. In a blatant attempt to sell more episodes, the writer gets the

Prince and his friends embroiled in battles against Zombies and the audacious

rescue of Hansel and Gretel. It’s hardly Shakespeare. In fact, it’s hardly Dan Brown

either.

But now, my friends, fresh from their last mission Prince Charming and his

loyal followers were heading towards the Palace to overthrow the evil Archie thus

ensuring the Kingdom would be peaceful once again.

In the court of the Palace meanwhile the Prince Regent or Archie, as he is

otherwise known, was becoming rather uncomfortable.

“Sire,” the Sorcerer brought forth the crystal ball so his master might see

into it. “The armies are marching towards the Palace. The armies of the West have

met with Prince Charming and his merry band. They still have Vasterbalk as a

prisoner.”

“Lucky them,” he remarked. “So they have managed to overcome my

assassin and my war chief? But can they overcome Black Magic?”

“What?” the Sorcerer raised his head.

“Black Magic! The evil magic that will destroy them all!”

“Black Magic sire?”

“Yes! I was hoping you’d be able to practise some!”

“Black Magic?”

“Why do you keep repeating the words?”

“Black Magic? There’s no such thing!”

“Oh I see,” Archie put his hands on his hips. “I suppose there’s only White

Magic huh? White Magic for white people. Racist.”

“Excuse me Your Majesty,” the Sorcerer resented the accusation of being a

racist during a short story. “You were the one associating black with evil.”

“Whatever! Just start doing it!”

“I must admit sire, I am going off working for you.”

“Does this mean you can’t do it? You’re useless!”

“That’s it!” he dropped the crystal ball so that it bounced across the floor.

“What the?” Archie watched as it reached the doorway to the court.

“What?” the Sorcerer reddened.

“I thought it was made from proper Watermark crystal taken from the

Royal vaults?”

“I was operating on a budget! I decided to use something we could recycle.”

“It’s not a flaming bicycle!”

“We have to be mindful of the environment sire!”

“The environment? What are you banging on about?”

“Global warming?”

             “No…” Archie was blank. “Still not got a clue what you’re talking about.”

An hour later, and after rather a lot of stupid questions and a lecture from

the Sorcerer including a Powerpoint presentation, Archie folded his arms in

frustration.

“Do you understand sire?”

“Quite frankly no! If I want to take a broken fridge out into the countryside

and burn it using petrol, I don’t see how that will cause the polar ice caps to melt

thus meaning we get flooded all the time. I think you’ve been on the wacky baccy

again. I thought I smelt it wafting from under your bedroom door this morning!”

The Sorcerer could not stand having his professional integrity being

questioned.

“I’ve had enough!” protested an extremely emotional Sorcerer. “I get

absolutely no respect around here!”

“You’d get no respect where ever you went!”

“This is what I mean!” it cannot be denied that a tear welled in the

Sorcerer’s eye. “I’ve been loyal to you and all you ever show me is contempt!”

“Stop whinging!” Archie scorned as he began marching out of the court and

towards the stairs down to the dungeons. “Now come with me for our daily baiting!”

“But we’ve got so many other things to be getting on with!”

Down in the dungeon were the Babes in the Wood, behind bars and

thoroughly miserable.

“Hello you little brats!” Archie greeted them fondly prior to spitting at

Kevin.

“Let us out!” moaned Kevin, his voice falling several octaves in pitch as he

spoke.

“Still not dropped then I see?” Archie chuckled before he eyed Petula who

was lying in the corner of the cell. “Hello my dear, you are looking more womanly

day by day.”

“I could say the same about you,” she returned.

“Feisty as ever my dear,” Archie grinned before turning to the Sorcerer. “I

think she would make a fine wife, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure Your Majesty,” the Sorcerer shook his head. “She’s still under

the age of consent and you did pass that law about sex with minors.”

“What law?”

“It was one of several you decreed. Remember? You also banished

homosexuality, talking horses and happiness.”

“When does she turn sixteen?” he asked.

“Next year!” Petula informed him with a sigh of relief.

“Damn it! Stupid laws!”

“Anyway sire,” the Sorcerer reminded him. “I thought you were keen on the

Mermaid?”

“She won’t put out!”

“Yes, I suppose she won’t ever bring you an heir.”

“An heir? I wasn’t bothered about that! I was going to stick my…”

“Please sire,” the Sorcerer quite rightly stopped him in mid-sentence. “I am

sure that the Babes are too young to hear such sexually explicit candour.”

“Well anyway,” Archie turned away from the Babes to wander over to an

unlit part of the dungeon. “I wonder how our friend is today?”

Archie grabbed a torch from the wall to throw light on the area. Standing

against the wall in chains stood Hilary, now a zombie.

“How is my little pet?” Archie greeted him.

“Ugh!”

“I hope you’ve learned not to betray me!”

“Sire,” started the Sorcerer. “What about the dozens of other Zombies that

are still roaming the grounds outside the Palace?”

“Have they not been killed yet?”

“No, they keep biting your soldiers thus increasing their hordes!”

“Bloody Zombies! Why can’t they just die like normal people?”

Hilary reached out his rotting hands in the direction of Archie who wrinkled

his nose.

“He really is quite pungent now, isn’t he?”

“Ugh!”

“Sire the Zombie population in the grounds of the Palace has grown in

number, Prince Charming and his band have taken Vasterbalk prisoner and a

rebellion is approaching from the West of the Kingdom. We are in big trouble!”

            “You would think so wouldn’t you?” Archie gave him a crafty grin.

“What?”

“I have a back-up plan!” he laughed. “You sound as if I wouldn’t have

something up my sleeve?”

“Well quite frankly yes,” reasoned the Sorcerer. “I thought we were all out

on the original ideas front.”

“We have the Zombies surrounding the Palace,” explained Archie. “Now

they might be a danger to us but they are also a danger to anyone wanting to attack

us. Whilst they fight with our wannabe invaders, we can fire on them from above

and slaughter them all.”

“I suppose you’re right Your Majesty,” the Sorcerer reluctantly agreed.

“Yes, in fact send some of the cleaning staff out there. They’ve been under

performing for a while and it will boost the Zombie numbers.”

“Watch out sire, you don’t want to be short listed for the Nobel Peace Prize

again.”

To the West of the Palace Prince Charming and his merry band were

marching on the Prince Regent. Percy, the Captain, the Dwarf, and the Minstrel

accompanied their dear leader along with their weary and naked prisoner

Vasterbalk. He, by the way, would not quit whinging.

“Where are we going?” he rattled his chains at them before the Dwarf

pushed him in the back.

“For the last time you repugnant little fellow,” the Prince cried. “We are

going to overthrow Archie. Civil war has broken out in this once great realm and he

must be deposed for peace and civility to return.”

“But he will have me executed for failing him!” whined Vasterbalk.

“I thought you were meant to be the brains behind the operation?” remarked

a scornful Percy. “Don’t you realise that once we get there he will be taken prisoner

along with yourself. He will have to face the War Crimes Tribunal.”

“What’s that Percy?” the Prince frowned.

“A board of wise, learned men who will judge what the penalty for his

atrocities should be.”

“What will it entail?”

“Your royal self, the Dwarf, the Minstrel, the Captain and I with a pair of

dice.”

“You must be joking!” scorned Vasterbalk. “His army will crush your

pathetic little rebellion!”

“You forget,” pointed out the Prince. “An army from the countryside, sick of

the high taxation is marching on the Palace and the Mermen are planning to attack

from the river once again.”

“They won’t be enough to stop his army!” scoffed Vasterbalk. “Just you

wait! Once we get within ten miles of the Palace we will come under attack from

cannon fire.”

“A wonderful invention,” remarked Percy.

“Which is why,” the Prince said as they all came to a stop in a glade. “I must

send some of you North.”

“North?” the Captain’s face fell. “They don’t have a sea up there. It’s

landlocked.”

“Yes! To the Land of the Fairies! Do any of you want to volunteer?”

“Yes! A thousand times yes!”

They all turned in surprise to the Dwarf.

“What?”

“Is there something you haven’t been telling us Dwarf?” enquired the Prince.

“Oh come on!” the Dwarf rolled his eyes. “I am not that way inclined! I just

don’t want to go back to the Palace any time soon!”

“Of course!” the Prince laughed. “It’s the thought of Princess Helena and

your newborn child that terrifies you isn’t it?”

“Your Majesty,” insisted the Dwarf a little sniffily. “I am merely putting my

life on the line for the common good. There are no ulterior motives for me wanting

to get as far away from the Palace as humanly possible.”

“Excellent,” the Prince nodded. “You will need a companion, it will be too

dangerous for you to go alone.”

It went very quiet.

“I’ll go,” spoke up Vasterbalk.

“Oh no you don’t,” the Prince flatly refused before turning to the others thus

causing a collective sink of the heart. “Anybody, apart from Vasterbalk, want to

accompany the Dwarf to the Land of the Fairies?”

No volunteer was forthcoming.

“Right then,” the Prince pointed at the Minstrel. “You go with him!”

“What?” he whined. “But who else will provide you with tunes and sweet

lullabies?”

“Exactly,” the Prince replied as a look of horror surfaced on both the faces

belonging to the Dwarf and the Minstrel.

“Don’t mean to burst your big gay bubble or anything,” began Vasterbalk. “But how exactly will sending these two jokers up to Fairyland help you overcome the Royal army?”

“Because my friends up there will come to our aid and march on the Palace

with us!” explained Prince Charming.

“Really? That bunch of faggots?”

A swift kick to the groin from Percy and Vasterbalk was momentarily

incapacitated.

The Dwarf and the Minstrel bid their farewells before hurrying away in a

Northerly direction thus leaving the remainder of the band and the odiously naked

Vasterbalk to continue towards the Palace.

“Did you really volunteer for this mission for the reasons you said?”

enquired the Minstrel.

“Of course not!” the Dwarf scorned. “I am not going anywhere near the

Palace with that hag in there. Everybody else was quite upset when we ran into the

Zombies and all that other stuff that’s been going on but I was quite relieved.”

“Poor old Dwarf,” grinned the Minstrel. “Perhaps you could abscond?”

“Don’t think I haven’t thought about it.”

“There was a Dwarf who married a hag…” the Minstrel broke into song.

“Let me set down some ground rules,” the Dwarf interrupted him, holding

his axe rather menacingly. “There won’t be any singing on our travels!”

Meanwhile Archie was watching events using the Sorcerer’s rubber ball. He

began howling with laughter.

“They think the fairies will be able to beat my army? The Prince has lost the

plot!”

“I think perhaps sire,” spoke up the Sorcerer. “That you are incorrectly

making the assumption that the population in the North won’t be capable of combat

because of their sexuality.”

“Yeah damn right! Bunch of poofs!”

“I see your time in power has made you a wiser more well rounded human

being.”

“Are you saying I’ve put on weight?”

“No sire. Now anyway, to the task in hand. If you want to stop Prince

Charming you must ensure the Palace is adequately defended. Now having the

Zombies out there prowling the grounds is all very well and good but once they have

been slashed through you will be most vulnerable.”

“Nonsense! The Zombies are the last resort! The army should be able to stop

their progress before that.”

“How?” the Sorcerer rolled his eyes. “Have you made plans? Is there a

strategy?”

“Yes.”

“And what would that be?”

“Kill them all!”

“Excellent. I am glad to see a lot of thought has gone into this.”

About fifty miles West from the Palace our merry band of adventurers plus

their naked prisoner were taking a rest for the night in an Inn.

“What strikes me as strange is that we have not come across any soldiers

yet,” remarked the Prince as they sat round the table swigging ale.

“I reckon they are probably retreating to protect the Palace,” commented

Percy.

The Inn was understandably empty as the locals had all fled after witnessing

both a talking horse and Vasterbalk who was still in chains but allowed to partake

in the drinking.

Meanwhile the Pirate Captain had gone upstairs with a local wench.

“Will you become the new King once we remove Archie from power?” Percy

asked his master.

“Not sure about that Percy old chap,” the Prince shrugged. “I was never

really one for wanting power.”

“Yes we noticed that.”

“I prefer the easy life and being free to do what one wants.”

“Yes, we noticed that too.”

“Percy? Are you trying to say I’m fancy free and irresponsible?”

“No your Majesty, far from it. Yet I do believe you might have to remain if

we oust Archie as there is no natural successor. By the way, what will we do with

him once he is deposed?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Beheading would be the normal reaction,” suggested Vasterbalk.

“How loyal you are,” remarked Percy.

“Hey, don’t blame me! I’m just stating reality. If I was a member of the tax

paying public I would want him hung.”

Naturally Archie was watching this betrayal over the medium of rubber ball.

“That back stabbing little bastard!” he screamed as he watched proceedings

in the court.

“You’re judging a naked man who likes to gets his sexual kicks from giving

people golden showers?” the Sorcerer asked in surprise.

“I know,” shrugged Archie. “But I expected so much more from him. With

any luck the Zombies will have him.”

“I doubt they will,” sighed the Sorcerer. “I suspect they will put together an

army so strong that the Zombies outside these gates will be destroyed.”

“I see,” Archie had suddenly thought up a crafty plan. “The thing is my dear

friend…”

“Your Majesty?” the Sorcerer glanced about the court.

“I was referring to you.”

“Oh I see,” he blushed.

“I have always wondered just how powerful your spells are?”

“What do you mean?”

“How about you toddle off downstairs and magic up a little spell on our

Zombie pal down there?”

“Do you mean ‘The Black Fist’?”

“Yes! How about you turn him back to being a human being?”

“I like a challenge your Majesty however why would you want to do this?”

“Because he was the best assassin of his generation! We could do with men,

albeit gay ones, in our hour of need.”

“Your Majesty, are you saying that you want to resurrect a homosexual

man? Is there something you wish to tell me? If you feel like that there are certain

bars you could go to.”

“Not for that! We could persuade him to help us end all this nonsense by

putting an arrow in the head of both Vasterbalk and the Prince.”

“That would be a heck of a shot!”

“I meant an arrow each.”

“I’ll see what I can do but with magic you never know what might happen.”

“With yours you don’t,” murmured Archie.

“What was that?”

“Nothing! You go down there and see what you can do!”

The northern forest was alive with the sound of humming.

“Why are you making that horrible noise?” the Dwarf glared at the Minstrel

as they approached a bridge across a river.

“Because you said I wasn’t allowed to sing?”

“Right then well…I am banning singing, humming, whistling and any other

sound that might be attempting to form a tune emanating from your lips.”

They reached the bridge where three rather nervous looking goats were

stood.

“I wonder what’s wrong with them?” asked the Minstrel.

“There’s a fearsome troll under the bridge on the other side. If we go over

there we are bound to be eaten.”

“Oh I see…hang on!” a startled Minstrel turned to the Dwarf. “That goat

just spoke.”

“Why are you surprised?” the Dwarf raised an eyebrow at him. “Have you

not followed the last dozen or so stories?”

“Really? Are we really in double figures now?” marvelled the Minstrel.

“Well you’re not, you only showed up in the fourth one.”

“When are we going to see some royalties?”

“I’m not sure, I was told we might get something after this one but that there

have been problems with the payroll or something.”

“Oh never mind!” the Minstrel cheerfully replied. “I can always earn my

keep with my singing and my music.”

“Really? No wonder you’re so thin.”

“Excuse me!” piped up the biggest of the three goats. “But can you help us

defeat the troll?”

“Not keen on that one,” the Dwarf shook his head doubtfully. “Fearsome

goat eating trolls are not my strong point.”

“But you have an axe!”

“True, true but, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, I am rather short

and trolls are huge.”

“Really?” the Minstrel cried. “I thought Trolls were meant to be short and

stumpy?”

“Since when did you become an expert on mythical creatures?”

“I would say he was only a little bigger than you,” began the middle goat.

“He’s broader but I am sure you could sort him out with your axe.”

“Despite me playing the lute,” grinned the Minstrel. “You’re the real

axeman.”

The three goats all froze, clearly puzzled as was the Dwarf.

“Oh okay,” groaned the Dwarf. “I’ll go and see if I can get past him.”

To the surprise of the other four the Dwarf began marching across the

wooden bridge.

“I didn’t think he’d buy that,” remarked the Minstrel. “Trolls the same size

as Dwarves?”

As the Dwarf reached the other side there was movement down below

followed by a loud fart. A ghastly looking beast sprung up from beneath the bridge,

growling at the Dwarf who raised his axe in the air with both hands.

“Easy!” he urged the disgusting beast.

“Who are you?” the Troll spat.

“I am on an important mission to the North in the name of Prince Charming!

Let me pass!”

“Go on then,” the Troll said prior to loudly breaking wind once again.

The Dwarf shrugged and wandered off the bridge before beckoning to the

Minstrel who quickly followed with the three goats.

As the goats were trotting off the bridge the Troll reared his foul head again

and stood in front of them whilst the Minstrel and the Dwarf had reached the trees.

“I thought you said you would let us pass?” cried the Dwarf.

“You two yes but I love goat meat!”

“Fair point,” the Dwarf and the Minstrel shrugged and headed off into the

undergrowth thus leaving the three goats to be brutally slaughtered and consumed

by the flatulent Troll.

The Prince awoke with a hangover in the Inn to make the nasty discovery

that Vasterbalk had managed to escape during the night. To make matters worse,

he had left some members of his band a little present.

“I didn’t wet myself!” protested the Captain as the Innkeeper’s daughter

glared at him whilst pushing his bed sheets into a barrel of soapy water in the yard

of the Inn.

“Now come on!” she replied. “At your age and with one leg, I am sure it was

just difficult for you to reach the outhouse.”

“I have not lost control of my faculties to that extent!”

“What’s going on?” the Prince asked as he put on his black armour in the

yard. “We cannot hang around. We must hunt down Vasterbalk!”

“He’s been going around urinating on us all during the night!”

“Are you sure?” the Prince eyed the one legged old pirate sympathetically.

“He is right!” Percy appeared in the yard with a soppy mane. “He pissed all

over me!”

“How did he escape!” the Prince cried.

“Well we all got rather drunk sire,” explained a fragile Percy. “He must have

simply run off. Although he will still be in chains which won’t make his race back to

the Palace very easy. I imagine there are plenty of Zombies or Mermen out there

who will see him as easy pickings.”

“Right,” the Prince declared as he puffed out his chest and seized Percy’s

stirrup. “We must ride to meet with the Mermen on the river. Vasterbalk will

undoubtedly tell Archie all about what we are planning.”

“Let me just wash my mane and I will be with you…” Percy eyed the barrel

of soapy water.

“We don’t have time for that!” the Prince mounted Percy and beckoned for

the Captain to join him.

“Eh…I need to change my trousers…” the old Pirate blushed.

Half an hour later and after paying the laundry bills, the three of them

departed the Inn. Percy, his wet mane drying off in the Wintry air, galloped down

the path heading Southwards towards the riverbank.

The dungeon was a hive of activity with flashes and sparks coming from it

for the best part of an afternoon before the Sorcerer emerged and into the court

with a large beaming smile of pride.

“Yes?” Archie turned to him.

“Your Majesty, I have excelled myself!”

“You’ve pulled a coin from behind someone’s ear?”

“No! I have returned ‘The Black Fist’ to his former glory. He is now in

human form. He no longer resembles a Zombie!”

“No longer resembles? But does he still growl and want to eat my entrails?”

“No, in fact he’s talking about the lack of décor down in the dungeon. And,

quite frankly sire, I do think the walls could do with a lick of paint…”

“He’s normal again? Wonderful!” Archie clapped his hands together

excitedly before marching down to the dungeons.

Hilary was chained up still but now his skin was pink and he no longer tried

breaking forth to scratch out Archie’s eyeballs.

“Hello Hilary,” nodded Archie. “I am delighted you are back with us.”

“What has happened?” frowned a puzzled Hilary.

“You have been cured of your Zombie like state,” Archie grinned with a

knowing look to the Sorcerer. “Aren’t we kind?”

“But you were my enemy?”

“I never saw you as my enemy. Let’s face it, you were misled by the Prince.

He got you into all that horrible Zombie business.”

“That wasn’t his fault,” replied ‘The Black Fist’.

“Oh but it was,” began Archie. “You see the Royal Family knew all about

Zombies. Years of interbreeding amongst them had created a younger brother to

the Prince that they never spoke about. He was kept in the cellar. But one fateful

night he broke out and bit some of the locals and there you have it. A Zombie

epidemic!”

“But it wasn’t the Prince’s fault.”

“He kept it hidden just like he did his own sexuality all those years. When

you were attacked it was his guilty secret. The Royal family brought death upon this

kingdom. Now he and his rebellious little band want to seize power back from the

people who have nominated me as their leader.”

The Sorcerer stifled a laugh.

“But this is wrong!” Hilary cried. “Your Republican rule must remain!”

“He is right sire,” remarked the Sorcerer.

“I know he is,” replied Archie.

“You are a Republican.”

“Well then Hilary,” Archie smiled. “Would you like to go out there and

complete your greatest mission?”

“Yes!” Hilary nodded in determination.

“We shall release you,” Archie pushed the Sorcerer towards him to unclasp

his chains for he didn’t fancy touching the former Zombie himself.

Fully revitalised, ‘The Black Hand’ rode across the moat bridge and over a

shrieking Zombie. Archie and the Sorcerer watched from the North tower.

“Hopefully he’ll be a thorn in the side of this irritating rebellion,” Archie

turned to Sorcerer. “Now I can cement my power.”

“Oh, are you going to fill in the moat?”

“No! I am going to marry!”

“Oh no sire! That will enrage the Mermen even more. Plus why bother? You

won’t be able to procreate and the people will think you’re even weirder. Forced

oral sex has it limits you know…”

“I am not marrying the Mermaid! That fishy bint can drown in her own

filthy water. No, I intend to marry Petula!”

“The Babe in the Wood? Oh sire?”

“Don’t you ‘oh sire’ me!”

“But she’s underage!”

“Well it’s got to be better than wedding a woman with fish genitals!”

“So you’ve gone from bestiality to paedophilia?”

“She’ll be sixteen soon.”

“In about a year!” protested the Sorcerer.

“She already looks old enough.”

“The words that have landed many a man in prison.”

“I will wed her and then take her on her sixteenth birthday. Have you not

seen her? She is a flower.”

“She is very pretty for her tender years.”

“And she’ll be nice and tight…”

“Your Majesty! I think this is a very bad idea! It’s kinda sick for starters let

alone the political nightmare it might become.”

“I insist,” nodded Archie. “I will have her for my wife. Then the Kingdom

will accept me as their monarch.”

“Because you married an underage girl?”

“You don’t know a thing about politics.”

“I know a little about modern law…”

“It’ll be okay!” Archie confidently declared. “The tax paying public won’t

hold it against me!”

“They might if they suddenly look at their pretty underage daughters and

suspect they might be next?”

“I am not some male predator!” protested Archie.

Percy reached the river carrying on his back the Prince and the Captain to

discover a moored Pirate ship along with several dozen Mermen resting by the

riverbank.

“You await battle my friends?” the Prince shouted.

“Not really,” the King of the Mermen replied. “We have been driven back by

the prospect of the Royal Navy and these strange flesh eating beasts that keep

wandering up to us.”

“The Zombies!”

“Who?”

“The flesh eating beasts!”

“Oh right, is that what they’re known as? Fine,” the Merman King shrugged

as he swam about the river. “I suppose you are here to lead us to glory after over a

year!”

“A year?” the Prince frowned. “It’s only been about two or three months!”

“It’s a year and a half since we were written into these episodes!”

“Come on,” the Prince cajoled him. “In real time we’ve only been doing this

for a few months.”

“Okay,” the Merman King rolled his eyes. “But we’ve been hanging around

here for nearly a year!”

“Yeah!” protested the pirates on board the ship. “We’ve run out of rum and

having sex with each other gets boring after a while!”

“Well we are here now!” shouted the Prince. “And we must go upstream to

fight the Royal Navy and get to the Palace!”

“Really?” the Merman King frowned.

“Yes to rescue your daughter!”

“Oh right…it’s been so long that I had forgotten about her.”

“But she’s been a prisoner all this time!”

“Yes but I have so many daughters…”

“Well forget all this,” the Prince dismounted Percy as did the Captain. “We

must attack them now! Head upstream! We have armies marching on the ground to

attack the Palace. If they are hit from both sides they won’t be able to cope.”

The Captain was reunited with his Pirates who were all either amorous or

had drunk the vast reserves of rum the ship had once carried. Meanwhile the

Mermen swam alongside ready with their tridents.

“Now let’s rendezvous with the armies heading towards the Palace!” the

Prince mounted Percy and his loyal and talkative steed galloped upstream before

crossing the plains.

An hour later and only a few miles from the Palace, the Prince and Percy

waited on a meadow. The landscape was curiously bereft of any oncoming marching

hordes of outraged villagers and townsfolk wanting to overthrow the Prince Regent.

“Sire?” began Percy. “I don’t mean to point out the obvious but the ground

offensive seems to be lacking in numbers.”

“Yes Percy.”

“You might even say we are a little thin on the ground.”

“Very funny Percy,” the Prince rolled his eyes.

“Now considering the Palace is best protected by the land army of the Royal

military plus hundreds of Zombies and we have to get past that with our current

army of two, I am not very confident we can penetrate the Palace.”

“Sadly Percy, you may have a point, however I think that the Royal Army

will be called upon to defend the Palace from what is about to attack from the

river.”

A click sounded out around the nearby vicinity so that they both turned to

see Hilary emerge from the undergrowth holding a crossbow.

“You made it so easy for me duckies,” remarked the camp assassin.

“Hilary? Do my eyes deceive me?” cried the Prince.

“They don’t sire,” explained Percy. “I have often had a blinkered vision of

life but it’s definitely him. I cannot believe cloning has occurred in this realm

without me inventing it first. I was saving that up!”

“I am not a clone…” Hilary continued marching towards them. “Whatever

that means. “I am a Zombie brought back from the dead.”

“But why are you aiming that thing at me?”

“At us sire,” Percy piped up.

“No I am aiming it at the Prince,” Hilary confirmed. “The Prince Regent

wants you taken alive.”

The Sorcerer strode into the court to discover Archie with the Royal tailor

and a model wearing a wedding dress.

“It’s made of the finest silk sire,” the old tailor assured Archie as the model

did a twirl. “Plus I have made under garments in black and red as requested.”

“And the latex catsuit?”

“An unusual request but we are still making it based on the prisoner…I

mean your bride to bes’ measurements.”

“And the black leather chains with which to tie her down?”

“Beyond my remit sire.”

“Ahem!” the Sorcerer announced his presence so that Archie ushered the

tailor and his model from the court.

“Yes?” Archie innocently asked.

“I have news from the front! A heavily armed Pirate ship has attacked the

defences on the river before the Palace and, helped by the Mermen, they have

sacked it and are only a few miles from us. But on a brighter note the revolt in the

West has been put down. The army is heading back to the Palace to defend it.”

“That’s excellent news!” cried Archie. “Sort of. The river goes past the

Palace so that my ground forces can pick it off. If we wipe them all out then

everything should be fine and I can marry Petula.”

“You are still determined to do that?” the Sorcerer frowned.

“Didn’t you see the wedding dress I have planned for her?”

“Yes. Slightly sluttish wouldn’t you say?”

“I thought it was classy.”

“You might want to give her veil…”

“But I want everyone to see how beautiful she is!”

“Down over her thighs as you seem determined to show off as much of her

legs as possible.”

“These are hard times! The reason I have been so economic with the silk is

because I want the tax paying public to see I am being frugal.”

“How thoughtful sire.”

“Put the crossbow down Hilary!” the Prince ordered ‘The Black Fist’. “You

are making a grave mistake. Archie has corrupted you!”

“The Prince Regent brought me back to life!”

“No Hilary,” the Prince shook his head. “I imagine that it was the Sorcerer

who, rather against past form, revived you!”

“The Prince Regent told me all about you and your inbred family!” insisted

an indignant Hilary. “He told me about your younger brother in the attic!”

Percy and the Prince regarded one another in confusion before both

shrugging.

“What younger brother?” Percy asked Hilary.

“His younger brother who was a degenerate after years of inbreeding in the

royal family.”

“I was an only child,” replied the Prince.

“He was you know,” nodded Percy. “If there was any scandal in the Royal

family I would know all about it. People tend to gossip around a horse when they

don’t know he can talk.”

“Archie has been lying to you,” the Prince explained. “Probably to discredit

me. Now come on Hilary, you must join with us.”

Hilary lowered his crossbow and had a deep, second long think before

coming to a decision.

“Oh go on then,” he shrugged. “I might as well join the old team!”

“Excellent!”

“Where are the others by the way? They aren’t now Zombies are they?”

“Oh no, they’re all fine! Well apart from the Dragon but you know all about that.”

“Where are they all then?”

“The Dwarf and the Minstrel have gone North to get the help from the Land of the Elves.”

“Ooh really?” cried an excited Hilary. “That’ll be fun!”

“And that took all of one day for him to go back over to their side,” the

Sorcerer remarked as he and Archie stared into the rubber ball in the court of the

Palace.

“As soon as he gets here, I want you to turn him back into a Zombie,” Archie

arose. “Anyway, I’m going down to the dungeon to see what Petula looks like in her wedding dress. I can’t wait to see her in the latex cat suit the royal tailor has made.”

            “I must draw up the wedding invitations.”

To be continued with ‘Prince Charming & The Civil War Part II’.