Seanfram Manor

II

Prince Wolframium Synk is seen astride his noble steed as he crosses the barren lands separating Deneb from Seanfram Manor, the only fertile soil he has witnessed thus far is a field of cranesbills grown from volcanic ash.

The prince often traveled to Seanfram Manor and therefore knew exactly how to wear: linen undergarments, a thin vest sewn in the colors of the flag, head uncovered and no weapons other than the handy dagger. Nothing too heavy, as to avoid further burden for the steed and to not fry under the sun. Numerous travels had taught him that, safe for the geraniums that were long past him, the lands between the palace and the manor were completely empty, so there were no bandits that could ambush him on the way. He had determined, assisted by the kingdom's greatest astronomers, that the distance between the palace of King Osorio and Seanfram Manor implicated an extenuating five-hour journey. Whenever the steed in turn would be put to the task, it would get a full day of rest prior and be fed at dawn, then it would drink from the first pails collected off the well in the early morning and off it went.

Nearing the outskirts of the manor, the prince was confused to find a gentleman walking in the opposite direction. He wore torn clothing, revealing skin grayed from dirt, his ocher pants were covered in mud up to the knee. He walked dragging his steps noisily, his right foot touched the ground with the heel first, whereas the left foot touched it with the ball first, creating a tresillo, his arms did not swing, his shoulders rested all of their weight on the knees and tilted to each side with every step. The prince pulled from the reins of his steed, stopping in front of the stranger.

"Good morning, sir."

The man's face wrinkled as he smiled.

"Good time of day to you, good fellow! Headed to the manor?"

"Most certainly. Why would you guess so?"

"Nobody crosses these paths, except for Prince Wolframium, who comes for business."

The noble steed whinnied. The man pointed at it, amused.

"A beauty, is it not?"

He extended his hand, but the animal tried to bite. The man put away his hand, slowly sliding it across his side.

"And why do I fancy seeing you here, sir, if nobody here crosses?" asked the horseman.

The man grinned again.

"Just making the rounds."

"What shall you be doing, wandering so far from the manor?"

"I do not stay at the manor."

"What do you do for a living, then?"

The man's expression changed. His eyes grew big and his mouth grew small.

"For five shillings, I can recite the poems of Rubén Darío."

"I do not enjoy those. Anything else, perchance?"

"Any modernist and surrealist poetry, in the language of your preference."

"Are you an...entertainer of some type?"

"I mimed in my youth! I still do, occasionally, to keep something creative going on in the head."

"Alright," the horseman threw five shillings at the man, who caught them with both hands, "show me what you can say or do."

Promise me that it will all be fine

If the ships fly and wreck in the clouds

If the ground tremors and the seas dry

If I turn green and in your arms die

That if I go, you will stay

If you say 'I stay',

I stay, we stay

If the root sprouts, I can lose my fear

I can dissolve at once with a cheer

in that region where the air is clear

And here on out, gone out

At the sound of carillon

I will beg for your pledge

From the oblivion

Beyond my flesh

Insofar as you can tell

You must not fret if you promise me

That it will all be fine

The man performed the stanza looking at the horseman straight into the eyes, from the ground, and as he progressed he rose a hand with a stretched out index finger that slowly pointed towards his face, almost to the level of his iris, and when he finished he opened his hand and lowered it at the same pace.

"Remind me who that is by, if you please."

"Iscel Joran, translated and revised by Europio Potassium!"

"May I ask for your name, sir?"

"I am Radon Zirconium."

"At what time do you reckon the prince will arrive?"

"At any time, now."

"Well, I will let you know that I am Prince Wolframium, and that I seek to return to Deneb with goods and labor. Listen, I will pass the night at the manor and come back tomorrow. If I meet you here at dawning, will you accompany me?"

Radon scrutinized the horseman's gaze, unsure.

"Are you really Wolframium the Fourteenth?"

"Affirmative."

"And you want me to go to Deneb?"

"I want you in my court. Or maybe someplace else better than this wasteland."

Radon fidgeted with his hands. He nodded, looking down, then he lifted his head and said, "I will gladly join you on your way." He gave two steps forward and patted, quite energetically, the side of the prince's steed. "See you tomorrow, your majesty!"

"Do you not prefer to follow me to the manor? We could have a chat about where and when and how you would work."

Radon flexed his elbow and then relaxed it.

"There will be enough time in the journey."

"All right, as you say, sir. Until then."

The prince hit the steed's side with his heel. The beast proceeded to walk.

"Hail to your grace!" Radon exclaimed, laughing slightly.

"Ah, you know Shakespeare."

"All of it," he tapped on his forehead.

"And Samuel Beckett?"

"That is of what Watt will not abate one jot."

"Marvelous. I cannot wait to encounter you again."