King Ethelred IV Part 3

As Albert returned to his lord’s chambers, he finally noticed what had disturbed him about the frenetic atmosphere. Its goal was to produce no effect, never had he seen so much work done to achieve nothing. It was clear that someone had caused a great stir; however, Albert, had no idea who, why, or indeed where all the excitement was for or to. His lord, in his exceedingly finite wisdom had decided that carousing in the city casinos and brothels was far more constructive than visiting with the court who ignored him in any case. Albert did not see eye to eye on this particular point with his lord, particularly today when everyone was upset about that thing that had occurred, that shall be studiously ignored, until such a time as it goes away. Ethelred IV was a stubborn king, and was unlikely to change his mind, whatever that was at the moment. At the very least, his responsibilities would be completed, and the other lords could attempt to regain the favour that they would lose.

As he was musing to himself he narrowly avoided running down Elsa in the underground servant’s hallway that travelled the length of the palace. The corridor was nearly abandoned. “Lass, you’ve nearly killed me with fright. As this passage is plenty big enough to fit us both with a great deal of room to spare, why are you under my feet?”

“Pardon me, sir. I wished to inquire if your son would be travelling with you to the Summer Keep.”

“He is.” He said over his shoulder, as he continued towards the far end of the passage.

A Ship Cursed Part 3

‘Maman.’ He was alive! I ran to his side.

He tried to raise his head, ‘shhh. Quiet, don’t move young man.’

‘Maman.’ Just then I heard footsteps on the stairs behind me. It was the doctor.

‘Henry, what seems to be the matter with… oh, I see,’ the doctor knelt next to me. He looked through his bag, and found a tube of honey which he mixed with water. Slowly, he let the parched man drink. ‘Not too much now.’

After tending to his other wounds the doctor asked if the man could stay with me. I wanted to learn what had happened, to the ship, and to my son, also, I had liked the ship’s elected captain, and wanted to know what had happened to him, besides which I didn’t go out much and had little to do, so I agreed. It would be good to talk to another sailor, once he was able. The doctor gave me instructions on how to care for him, and strict directives not to give him too much food or water: for fear of it bursting his stomach.

The man slept for the next few days, then as the weeks went by he slowly gained strength. ‘How are you doing,’ I said, as I sat down on the chair by the bed.

‘Va te faire foutre,’ he said.

‘Do you speak English?’

‘Euh, oui, a little bit,’ he had a heavy accent.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Pierre.’ He was still weak, and I could see he was getting tired already.

Alice's Part 3

‘You’re new here, aren’t you?’ she asked. ‘My name’s Alice.’

‘This place yours?’ Ray asked.

‘It’s my baby.’

‘I just transferred from my basic in California,’ Ray answered. He smiled. ‘Could I get a coffee? With milk and sugar, please.’

‘Sure. How are the boys on the base doing? I used to take a bigger role in the goings on at the base,’ she said. ‘These days there’s no interest in the coffee houses, just lattes.’ Alice poured him his coffee, added milk and then stirred in the sugar. ‘Back before you were born, around ’67, my husband and I ran a newspaper for the boys,’ she continued. ‘They used to write about the officers, what it was like overseas, in the jungle, and why the war was wrong.’

As they talked, they walked to a booth, and sat down.

Ray scratched his head. ‘How’d you get away with that? There’s no way the Army would have liked it.’

‘Of course the command didn’t like it,’ she answered. ‘We got raided, fined, shut down, and thrown in jail. The soldiers involved had it worse, for the first bit anyway. Later, it got dangerous for the officers to resist the boys.’ The last was said with a certain amount of pride.

Ray was uncomfortable with the idea of resisting. ‘But, why? What’s the point? The Viet Cong were just a bunch of Commies anyways.’

Alice’s voice trembled, as she said, ‘The boys believed that the peasants were people, too, that they deserved peace, as much as anyone else.’

Ray apologized. He had never really thought about the whole thing, and the news never talked about the enemy as human beings, and all his training had demonized them. He thought she was wrong, but he needed someone to talk to.

‘It’s okay. You weren’t there.’ Alice smiled. It was a sincere smile; the type of smile shared between friends. She excused herself and went back to take the orders of some other patrons.

From then on, whenever he had time, he would head to Alice’s for coffee. If she wasn’t cooking breakfasts, she would give him coffee for free. Ray and Alice would talk for hours during the several months between when he moved to town and when he was called up. They mostly talked about his childhood in the city, and hers in the Midwest. There were some days though when news of the war in Iraq would creep in.

‘Ray, did you see the news last night?’ Handing him a cup of coffee.

‘Yeah. I can’t believe how well the WMDs are hidden,’ said Ray, scratching his head. ‘I thought they would have found some by now.’

‘Hmm, I don’t know,’ Alice said. ‘There were lots of searches before the war.’

‘I remember.’ He swilled his coffee, thinking about the lead up to the war.

‘I know it’s not really your thing, but there’s a rally at the base this weekend,’ said Alice. She looked hopeful. ‘You could come if you want. There’s a man coming to talk about the weapons.’

‘I would, but…’ Ray felt uncomfortable about being seen with the crowd. ‘I’d better not: I could get in a lot of trouble.’