The King's Collie

Part II, Chapter 5: Barrelbusting

The king sat and read for a while during the evening, as most of the men on board sat around. A few made some chatter, but most were in thought. They knew that they were to fight an unknown number of men. They were going to war, after all, however small of an army it may have required. It was now the late evening. Dinner came and went, having been cooked, rationed, and finished off by everyone who got it.

Everyone, save for the Cambrian knight. Sir Afon ate slowly, and left about half his food. Would his plan be uncovered if he did this? What would happen if he was found out? Regardless, he couldn't let that collie go hungry, even if for a night. He would feel terrible if that happened.

Yes, Cameron made it on board. He was laying sideways, in a used barrel, with a hole thankfully having been drilled into it for air, breathing through this bunghole. Two barrels were filled with the castle's wine supply, and, as far as the people who hefted them onboard knew, so was the third. It was simply a matter of getting into the barrel and waiting. Easy at first, but... the isolation was slowly getting to him. He was alone, and in such a cramped space, so of course it would. What comforted him, though, is that he was surely on this journey, now.

Afon decided to begin his secret operation, after contemplating for a good while about how to do it. He got up, went discreetly to the storage, and found the two barrels, one already having been taken out and tapped into. Knocking on one, the collie perked his ear.

"In the other one," Cameron yipped softly in reply.

"Alright," the corgi grunted, and lifted the other barrel out accordingly.

"Thank you," the smaller of the dogs yipped gratefully. "Mind helping me out of here?"

"Hah. Not at all," Afon answered, and fetched his halberd. Of course, he wouldn't at all attempt to hack directly into the barrel itself: Instead, he took the butt of his weapon, and slammed it onto the head of the barrel.

"Afon?" Felix asked softly, having quietly made his way right behind the burly corgi's back.

"Ah! Hello, Your Highness!" the knight in question answered, turning around.

"...Okay, I have more than a few questions. First of all," the royal feline confusedly began, "why are you opening that barrel? There's one already set out."

"...I was, uh. Thirsty," Afon answered, with a grin he tried to make casual, but ending up being unusually wide.

"Riiiight. So, second question," the King squinted. "Why are you opening it from the top?"

"That's—" Afon thought for a moment, "—how we do it in Cambria! Ahha! Yeah. Traditional barrel-opening technique."

"Okay, fair enough of an excuse. Third question," Felix grunted. "Why haven't you finished your dinner? What're you doing with it?"

"I was going to have it with the wine I was fetching," Afon quickly excused.

"In that case," the King sighed, turning around, "I guess it checks out. I'll leave you be."

As the lion walked away, Cameron sighed. "I think he almost caught me," he chuckled perhaps a little too loudly. Felix, recognizing that voice, immediately turned around, in disbelief.

"Was that—?!" he gasped, and stormed over, Afon moving out of the way. The corgi's ears drooped in embarrassment, as Felix now took the halberd's blunt end and strongly smashed the wooden cask. As he suspected, inside was none other than Cameron! He looked at the young dog, then the older, noble one.

"This was your idea, wasn't it, Sir Afon?" he sighed, facepalming.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness! I truly am," the corgi started to apologize, covering his face. "He told me he had never been anywhere, and—"

"And he should never go anywhere, Afon, because he serves the QUEEN!" Felix yelled.

"People deserve to travel, to see with their own eyes!" Afon retorted. The argument started to catch the attention of the other men.

"We do not have the rations for an extra passenger! And you did this all behind my back, and for God's sake! What else have you done? Do you think this is some sort of frilly vacation, or—" the lion rambled on.

"Stop! Stop it, Felix, it was my damned idea!" Cameron whined, still sitting in the now-broken barrel. He looked guilty, for sure. This startled the King immensely, seeing this expression. "It was my idea," the collie continued. "I helped plan it, and I tricked this honorable knight to help me!" he whined, covering his own face now. Had this been any poor-looking breed of dog, a stranger to Felix, he would have told him to starve. Of course, though, this was Cameron! The savior of Ophelia's livelihood, and an overall joy to have gotten to know.

"...I can't be mad at you for that kind of thing," the King reluctantly groaned. "I knew how badly you wanted to come, I guess you were bound to have done something like this. Afon," he turned to the corgi once more. "Would you give Cameron a portion of your rations, to tide him over during the trip?"

"As I planned, Your Highness," the knight answered surely, handing Cameron the plate as he was reminded. The collie ate quickly.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Cameron gratefully said, once he was done. He had moved to the table in that short span of time.

"Be grateful, indeed," Felix replied, though this cold attitude seemed to melt a bit.

—

"What do you mean, you can't find him?!" Ophelia roared out in her room, much like she had that afternoon.

"I mean that he isn't anywhere I can think of looking for him! He isn't answering when I call out," Marco explained, "and I haven't seen him since the ship left!"

Ophelia had requested that her favorite little muse be brought out to play her a song, to comfort her while her husband was away. She was hoping the dog could sing a bit, even, if he could muster the courage. "Where do you think he's gone?" she worriedly wondered.

"I can't even guess! Either he's playing some sick game, ran away from the castle, or snuck onboard the ship while it was leaving!" the wolf yelped, also worried for his friend.

"Oh, he did want to go with him! That must be where he's off to! Oh, Cameron!" the lioness cried. "Off somewhere in some dark ship! God, bless them, help them all!" she continued.

Marco went over to her as she kneeled, and rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. "It would be my pleasure to fill Cameron's role, you know!" he proposed, trying to lighten the mood.

"No, that would probably only make it worse," the Queen replied.

"Alright, then, just— don't worry yourself to death," Marco then nodded.

"Don't even remind me! Just go!" Ophelia hastily ordered, trying not to be harsh. Marco acknowledged this sentiment, and left without a further word.

The regal lioness sat on the equally regal sofa in her room, and held her head in her hands, her thoughts once again being flooded with the execution of the innocent, technically on royal word, the worst part was. Along with her husband (and her other, second-best friend) being far away, it made for the darkest state of mind the Queen had experienced in a long, long while.