The Last Knights of Cambria Book 4: Secrets of the Mountain

Chapter 9: We try to rob Windsor Palace (again)

Dancer
"Can you help us buy an ancient Irish hunting horn that would fool a malevolent psychopath and his boyfriend into thinking it's the one they already stole? We need it the fate of Ireland is at stake, and all that," I say, like you do, as Sadie and I walk into the kitchen of my father's house. We spent the night in Wales and then transported back here for our part in the mission. Which is, find an acceptable substitute horn.
My sire is standing in the kitchen, making breakfast enough for about four people, ingredients spread out all over the counter. He sighs, with obvious melodrama, "I knew this day would come. Son. Horns are a gateway instrument—,"
"This isn't funny. I know you think it is; you're not funny," I say, leaning on the counter.
"You think it's ancient Irish horns at first. You think that's all it'll be. Next thing you are on a street corner in Malibu buying Mayan cymbals out of the back of a Camaro—," he says, completely seriously, hands on my shoulders.
"You should be on stage. Really. You're a gift to England—," I say, completely sarcastically.
"Seek help! Before it's too late—before your life is consumed by ancient musical instruments. You don't want to end up like Sam. Sam—so young—,"
"Is this gonna go on? Stop laughing, Sadie, we don't validate," I sigh.
"Dead, under a falling piano from Nova Scotia—,"
"Are you done?" I ask, not amused.
"I think so," Jay says, cracking up at his own not funny joke, "Is this ransom for Gideon or something? I know you said you found him?"
"No, yes we found him, no it's not ransom," Sadie says.
"Extremely long story like everything—aforementioned malevolent psychopath and his boyfriend stole Ireland's ceremonial national horn thing," don't look at me like that I am NOT a Gideon. I don't remember names of complicated things or why people are doing things.
"Is this an actual psychopath and boyfriend or is he being homophobic. Again?" Jay asks Sadie, pleasantly.
"No, that's what's going on—I mean they go everywhere together and wear matching outfits and finish each other's sentences and touch each other's arms delicately and live together and raise a family together and abuse Welsh Teenagers together—like that's, what's going on I don't know what else that is," Sadie says, nodding.
"Oh, good, just checking he's been homophobic in the past—,"
"Father, I'm gay."
"I'm so glad you felt like you could tell me."
"I'm going to murder you."
"I'm so glad you want to do things with me."
We both start laughing at that one.
"That was it? That's where you broke?" Sadie asks, disappointed.
"Yeah, sorry, going on. We need an old Irish horn, yes I have a description of it provided by the owner of it," I say, holding up a piece of parchment.
"Why do you need it?" He asks, frowning, "In all seriousness, you can't even move stuff back and forth?"
"No, but Gideon can," I say, "And we need it because—,"
"I'm gonna do it this time it needs to be more comprehensible and less sarcastic: Henry V probably yes with the help of his murder-husband, stole Ireland's ceremonial magic horn thing one of the times he was raiding Ireland being a colonizer—now Ireland needs it to summon their team of undead magical ghost warriors and so we're stealing the real one from Henry and then putting a fake there so he doesn't get mad we stole his stuff that he shouldn't have in the first place. Again," Sadie says.
"You do realize every word of that was completely sarcastic?" Jay asks, making a sunshine-hand gesture.
"But, I used people's actual names and you know what I meant," Sadie says.
"True. Sorry, son, she has you there," he says.
"I admit nothing. Moving on, can you help us—buy an old horn that looks like this?" I ask, putting down the piece of parchment.
"Oh, dimensions good job yes—I mean how quickly does this have to happen?" Jay asks.
"As soon as possible, Ireland's under threat," Sadie says.
"All right, correct me if I'm wrong but—this is going back to 1433, right?" Jay asks.
"Yeah," I say.
"So why do we need an antique? If we wait and try to buy some—ancient horn at auction it could take months for something like that to come up for sale. Why not just make a replica? This is 1433 they don't have—carbon dating—they're not gonna know how old it is they'll hang it on the wall or something," Jay says.
"That's true—but it has to look authentic we can't just commission an ancient horn, can we?" I ask.
"Oh, yes we can," Jay grins, "You children are underestimating the power of theater. Well, theater props departments anyway. I've got some friends on the West End. I say it's for a prank it's believable given my lifestyle or just that it's for your school. I fund half their shows. If I go strolling in there they'll hand me the thing for free."
"Really?" Sadie asks.
"Yeah, I'll go today. I was not doing anything, breakfast?"
"No, really, fund West End shows? I didn't know that," Sadie says.
"Don't talk to him about theater or bloody Shakespeare he's like a Gideon but more annoying," I say.
" 'Oh O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention, a kingdom for a stage, princes to act and monarchs to behold the swelling scene!" He says, getting us each a plate for some sort of egg and bacon monstrosity.
"That's from Henry V isn't it?" Sadie winces.
"Yeah probably, meet the royal-nightmare's second biggest fan. Honestly, I'm gonna go to 16 whatever and punch Shakespeare," I say.
" 'Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels, Leash'd in like hounds, famine, sword and fire'," Jay finishes.
"Third biggest, Henry is Henry's biggest fan Gideon is only second," Sadie says.
"I'm a fan of the play, not a fan of this person who has apparently tried to kill you both," Jay says, sitting down to eat himself.
"He hasn't ever actually personally tried to kill me, I was resurrected after the major murder attempts," Sadie says.
"He's personally tried to kill me," I say.
"Right, so, should you really be stealing from him?" Jay asks, very non-judgmentally given the sentence.
"No," Sadie and I say, in unison, smiling.