Of Jesters and Kings

Part 14- Queen's Adventure

Emily had already dispatched several hares to patrol the grounds and had a 24 hour watch going through the camp on Code Purple. She was already throwing some provisions inside her bag: Some food, medical supplies, Apcola, a pink shellphone, and the latest issue of the kingdom's monthly tabloid "Gosspin' Shit". Here twin swords were fastened around her midsection. Their deadly edges had been sharpened to a wicked edge a while earlier.

They still weren't back yet. The Ops Hares she sent with Charlies and Julie were one of the best. Surely they could have found the Jester by now. He was probably crouched in some corner with a puddle of piss between his legs.

She was going after them. But, the camp was already chaotic, and someone needed to be around to keep the stability.

Wait.

The rebels are only attacking because we're here. Emily raised an eyebrow.

Two birds with one stone. Ay one point for Emily.

She was taking the camp with her, into the rift.

***

George ran over his options as he ran a wet hand through his damp hair.

Push toward the Exit? Yes that was a priority. Staying at Angel's Cup would not be a plausible decision, given the fact that those shadow creatures were out and about the moment the sun ducks its head beneath the gray hills.

He wondered about the pointers though. The City was abandoned, last time he checked. The Jester vaguely remembered that Lukas hadn't shown up on the map. Using his amazingly adept reasoning skills, the Horse Prince concluded that the map was stupid. OR that the inhabitants of the Other World were not shown on the map.

A shot of adrenaline rushed through his system. Were, they people looking for him? George pressed his face into his hand and shook his head. God why did he try to be the hero?

This is why you're a Jester.

A Prince of Jesters.

And horses, George thought to himself. 

Stupid Julie.

 Why horses? Weren't cats her thing? Doesn't Charlie have a thing for her?

His train of thought was side tracking already.

George stood up slowly with a grumble. Something in the blue luminescent waters of the Cup had done miracles on his injuries. He gingerly bent over and cupped some water into his flask of Apcola.

Maybe it was because of cowardliness or fear. Maybe it was just being fed up with his decisions so far, but the Prince packed his supplies and resumed his trek to Liberta.

***

Snehita went back into her chambers and got out her dagger, a gift from her Patron God. It was a short curved blade. It hand a sturdy robust grip of boiled leather. There was a single ruby embedded in the steel, where the metal met the wooden shaft. The Queen turned it in the light. It gleamed.

Maybe because she never used it before.

Well once, when she was cutting her steak during last year's Harvest Festival.

Kevin had bluntly pointed out that she was not a proficient warrior. After refusing the claim and rebuking with a series of creative (and impressive) sting of curse words, the King also pointed out that Snehita had named her weapon Dilbert the Dagger.

Dilbert.

The Dagger.

Regardless, both of her hands were clenched around the hilt. She hefted her weapon and felt the weight. It brought a strange sense of security she often felt when she was around Kevin.