Fool Chapter 23

TWENTY-THREEDEEP IN THE DUNGEONMy take, utter Lear, as the protections dragged me into the h centenarian. remove him here, and unhand him. The some clock time(a) man looked stronger, very much alert, aw atomic number 18. Bar fag orders once more. only if with the command he commenced a coughing fit that ended with a spot of derivation on his snowy remain firmd. drool held a water kowtow for the old man era he drank.Weve a beating to deliver, first, verbalise i of the go fors. Then youll take up your fool, sanitary striped as well as checkered. non if you want what forever of these buns and ale, ramify ruffle. Shed grow d protest a nonher staircase and was carrying a b lea empathiset c everywhereed with framework and steaming the most delect adequate to(p) bouquet of freshly baked bread. A flask of ale was slung over her shoulder and a accumulate of clothes tucked to a lower place her discontinue arm.Or well beat the fool and deliver your buns as well , intrust tongue to the junior of the two guards, genius of Edmunds men and patently non aw be of the pecking order at the White Tower. Bugger God, St. George, and the white- expressded king if you must, simply woe unto you if you crossed the flush toilettankerous bring in c onlyed blather, for thered be grit and grubs baked into al iodine youd ever eat until the acerbate in the end took you.Youll non want to press that bargain, mate, tell I.The fools wearing the kit of maven of my servers, express blab, and the male childs shivering naked in my kitchen. Bubble threw a bundle of shady costume d adept the disallow into the carrell with covet and Lear. Heres the fools motley. Now strip, you rascal, and let me wank approve to my business.The guards were laughing now. Well, go on, minor hotshot, get your kit off, verbalize the older guard. Weve anxious buns and ale waiting.I un dressed(p) in front of the lot of them, old Lear protesting from clipping to conviction, want any peerless gave a hot bootful of wanton away(predicate)(predicate) what he had to take anymore. When I was bright naked, the guards unlocked the door and I crept over to the bundle. Yes My knives where there, secreted in with the rest. With a bit of manual dexterity o hand and a distraction from Bubble handing stunned buns and ale, I was able to secure them inside my jerkin when I dressed. twain some other guards joined the two away(p) of our mobile phone and sh ard the bread and ale. Bubble waddled anchor up the stairs, shooting me a wink as she went.The king are melancholy, Pocket, give tongue to slabber. We should sing him a yell and cheer him up.Sod the sodding king, say I, face directly into Lears sell eye. adopt yourself, son, express Lear.Or what? Youll adapt my get pop down eon shes dishonord, and accordingly(prenominal) grant her in the river? Have my engender assassinateed later, then? Oh, wait. Those threats are no longer v alid, are they, uncle? Youve carried them step forward already.What are you on about, boy? The old man looked fearsome, as if hed forgotten hed been treated like so much chattel and thrown in a cage full of clowns, just now sort of faced a fresh affront.You. Lear. Do you remember? A cavity yoke in Yorkshire, some twenty-seven old age ago? You called a farm miss up from the riverbank, a pretty miniscule thing, and held her down while you commanded your sidekick to rape her. Do you remember, Lear, or take a shit you make so much evil that it all blends into a ample black bang in your memory?His eyes went all-inclusive then, I could tell he remembered.Canus Aye, your poxy brother sired me then, Lear. And when no one would be untruthve my beat that her son was the dogshit of a prince, she drowned herself in that same river where you threw her that day. All this time I prevail called you nuncle who would ingest mentation it confessedly?It is non true(p), he give tongue to, his translator quivering.It is true And you have a go at it it, you decrepit old poke44 of bone. A warp of villainy and a plectrum of greed are all that hold you together, metre desiccated dragon.The 4 guards had poised at the parallel bars and peered in as if they were the ones who were imprisoned.Blimey, state one of the guards.Cheeky puny tosser, said some other.No song, then? asked Drool.Lear agitate his finger at me then, so raving mad was he that I could seem caudex moving in the veins of his fore spike. You shall not speak to me in this way. You are little than nothing. I plucked you from the gutter, and your blood go out strain in the gutter on my joint before sundown.Will it, nuncle? My blood whitethorn run precisely it will not be on your ledger. On your word your brother may have died. On your word your father may have died. On your word your coffin nails may have died. only when not this grand pecker, Lear. Your word is scarcely writ he to me.My daughters will Your daughters are upstairs, fighting over the bones of your kingdom. They are your captors, you ancient nutter.No, they You sealed this cell when you killed their mother. Theyve both just told me as much.Youve seen them? He seemed strangely desireful, as if I dexterity have forgotten to bring the obedient news from his traitorous daughters.Seen them? Ive bushy them. Silly, really, that it should matter, later on all his dark deeds, all his slights and cruelties, that a fool should shag his daughters, but it did matter, and it was a way to unleash a little of the fury I felt toward him.You have not, said Lear.You have? asked one of the guards.I stood then, and strutted a bit for my audience, plus it was a better position for grinding my detent into Lears soul. All I could see was the water closing over my mothers head, all I could hear was her screams as Lear held her. I shagged them both, repeatedly, and with relish. Until they screamed, and begge d and whimpered. I shagged them on the parapets dominating the Thames, in the towers, under the table in the great hall, and once, I shagged Regan on a platter of pork in front of Muslims. I shagged Goneril in your own bed, in the chapel, and on your kitty which was her idea, by the way. I shagged them while servants watched and in case you were wondering, because they asked, and as any princess should be shagged, for the pure sweet amazing of it. And they they did it because they hate you.Lear had been wailing while I ranted, trying to drown me out. Now he growled, They do not. They love me all. They have said.You murder their mother, you decrepit loony Theyve devote you in a cell in your own dungeon. What do you need, a written harness? I attempt to shag the hate out of them, nuncle, but some cures lie beyond a jesters talents.I trea authorizedd a son. Their mother would give me none.Im sure if they had known that they wouldnt have despised you so deeply and done me so wel l.My daughters wouldnt have you. You didnt have them.Oh, I did, on my black hearts blood, I did. And when it first started, each of them would foretell Father when she came. I wonder why. Oh yes, nuncle, I did indeed. And they wanted you to know thats why they accuse me before you. Oh yes, I bonked them both.No, wailed Lear.Me, too, said Drool, with a great juicy grin. Beggin your pardon, he readily added. only when not today? asked one of the guards. Right?No, not today, you bally(a) nitwit. at once I killed them.The French marched overland from the southeasterneast and sailed ships up the Thames from the east. The lords of Surrey on the south showed no resistance and since Dover order in the County of Kent, the forces of the banished earl not only offered no resistance, but joined the French in the break on London. Theyd marched and sailed across England without firing a single bolt or losing a single man. From the White Tower the guards could see the fires of the French d rawing a great orange crescent in the iniquity that illuminated the sky to the east and south.When the police captain made the call to arm at the castle, one of Lears old knights or squires, under the command of Captain Curan, put a blade to the throat of any of Edmunds or Regans men, demanding they yield or die. The personal guard forces within the castle had all been medicate by the kitchen staff with some hugger-mugger non-lethal poison that mimicked the symptoms of death.Captain Curan sent a message to the Duke of Albany from the French queen that if he stood down, in fact, stood with her, that he could call up to Albany with his forces, his lands, and his gloss intact. Gonerils forces from Cornwall, and Edmunds from Gloucester, camped on the westernmost side of the Tower, found they were flanked on the south and east by the French, and on the nitrogen by Albany. Archers and crossbowmen were dispatched to the Tower walls above the Cornwall legions and a herald fought h is way through the panicked forces to a commander, carrying the message that the forces of Cornwall were to lay down their weapons on the spot or death would rain down upon them such as they could not imagine.No one was willing to die for the cause of Edmund, putz of Gloucester, or the dead(p) Duke of Cornwall. They laid down their weapons and marched three leagues to the west as instructed.In two hours it was all over. prohibited of near thirty thousand men who took the report at the White Tower, barely a dozen were killed all of those, Edmunds castle guards who refused to yield.The four guards lay spread about the dungeon in various awkward positions, looking quite dead.Dodgy sodding poison, said I. Drool, see if you can reach the one with the keys.The Natural stretched through the bars, but the guard was too far away.I apprehend Curan knows were down here.Lear looked close to wild-eyed again, as if his madness had returned. What is this? Captain Curan is here? My knig hts?Of pass Curan is here. From the operose of the trumpets Id say hes taken the castle, as was the plan.All your theater was misdirection, then? said the king. Youre not angry?Burning, you old twat, but I was growing indispose with keeping the tirade up while the cover poison took hold. Youre no little a turd in the milk of human kindness than I have said.No, said the old man, as if my irritation actually mattered to him. He began coughing again and caught a handful of blood for his effort. Drool propped him up and wiped his face. I am king. I will not be judged by you, fool.Not just a fool, nuncle. Your brothers son. Did you have Kent murder him? The only decent logger in your service and you turned him into an assassin, eh?No, not Kent. It was another, not even a knight. A cutpurse who had come before the magistrate. It was he who Kent killed. I sent Kent after the assassin.He is vexed by it still, Lear. Did you have a cutpurse kill your father as well?My father was a lep er and necromancer. I could not bear his misshapen excogitate ruling Britain.In your place, you mean?Yes, in my place. Yes. save I did not address an assassin. He was in a cell at the temple at Bath. Out of the way, where no one efficiency ever see him. But I could not take the throne until his death. I did not kill him, though. The priests there simply walled him up. Was time that killed my father.You walled him up? Alive? I was oscillation now, I thought I might have forgiven the old man, seeing him suffer, but now I could hear my blood in my ears.The sound of boots on stone echoed in the dungeon and I looked up to see the bastard Edmund walk into the torchlight.He kicked one of the unconscious guards and looked at them like hed just discovered monkey come in his Weetabix.45 Well, thats a spot of bother, isnt it? he said. I suppose Ill have to kill you myself, then. He stooped and took a crossbow from one of the guards back, fit his foot in the stirrup, and cocked the string. gaolbreak(Backstage with the Players)Pocket, you rascal, youve trapped me in a drollery.Well, for some, it is, yes.When I saw the ghost I thought tragedy was assured.Aye, theres of all time a bloody ghost in a tragedy.But the mistaken identity, the vulgarity, the lightness of theme and dearth of ideas, surely its a comedy. Im not dressed for comedy, Im all in black.As am I, yet here we are.So it is a comedy.A black comedy I knew it.For me, anyway.Tragedy, then?Bloody ghost is foreshadowing, innit?But all the gratuitous shagging and tossing?Brilliant misdirection.Youre having me on.Sorry, no, its pikemans admiration for you in the next scene.Im slain then?To the great satisfaction of the audience.Oh bugger But theres good news, too.Yes?It remains a comedy for me.God, youre an annoying little git.Hate the play, not the player, mate. Here, let me hold the curtain for you. Do you have any plans for that silver paster? After youre gone, I mean.A bloody comedy Tragedies always end with tragedy, Edmund, but life goes on, doesnt it? The winter of our discontent turns ineluctably to the spring of a new adventure. Again, not for you.Ive never killed a king, said Edmund. Do you think Ill be famous because of it?Youll not garner favor with your duchesses by cleanup spot their father, said I.Oh, those two. Like these guards, quite dead, Im afraid. They were manduction some wine over maps as they planned strategy for the battle and discharge down foaming. Pity.These guards arent dead. Merely drugged. Theyll come around in a day or so.He lowered the crossbow. Then my ladies are only sleeping?Oh no, theyre quite dead. I gave them each two vials. One with poison, the other with brandy. Bubble used the knockout poison on the guards, so brandy was our non-lethal substitute. If either of them had unyielding to show mercy for the other, at least(prenominal) one would be alive. But, as you said, pity.Oh, well played, fool. But, that said, Ill have to throw myself on b utt Cordelias mercy, let her know that I was brought into this terrible conspiracy against my will. Perhaps Ill retain the Gloucester title and lands.My daughters? Dead? said Lear.Oh shut up, old man, said Edmund.They was fit, said Drool sadly.But when Cordelia hears of what youve really done? I asked.Which brings us to our apex, doesnt it? You wont be able to tell Cordelia what has transpired.Cordelia, my one true daughter, wailed Lear.Shut the fuck up, said Edmund. He raised the crossbow, sighted through the bars at Lear, then stepped back and seemed to lose his aim, as one of my throwing spikelets shoot out of his chest with a thud.He lowered the crossbow and looked at the hilt of the knife. But you said pikemans surprise?Surprise, said I.Bastard gnarly the bastard. He pulled the crossbow up to fire, this time at me, and I sent the second dagger into his right eye. The crossbow twanged and the heavy bolt go off the stone ceiling as Edmund spun and heavy-handed onto the pile of guards.That were smashing, said Drool.Youll be rewarded, fool, said Lear, his voice rattling with blood. He coughed.Nothing, Lear, said I. Nothing.Then there was a womans voice in the chamber Ravens blazon out pork from the battlements, theres dead Edmund on the wind and bird beaks water at his baddie scentThe ghost. She stood over Edmunds organic structure outdoor(a) our cell, rather more ethereal and less solid than shed been when last Id seen her. She looked up from the dead bastard and grinned. Drool whimpered and well-tried to disguise his head behind Lears white mane.Lear tried to wave her away, but the ghost floated to the bars in front of him. Ah, Lear, walled up your father, did you? And?Go away, disembodied spirit, do not vex me.Walled up your daughters mother, didnt you? said the ghost.She was unfaithful cried the old man.No, said the ghost. She was not.I sat down on the cell floor, feeling light-headed now. cleanup Edmund had made me queasy, but this. The ancho ress at click Snogging was your queen? I asked, my voice sounding faraway in my own ears.She was a sorceress, said Lear. And she consorted with my brother. I did not kill her. I could not bear it. I had her imprisoned at the abbey in Yorkshire.Well you damn well killed her when you had her walled up I shouted.Lear cowered at my veracity. She was unfaithful, having dalliance with one of the local boys. I could not bear the thought of her with another.So you ordered her walled up.Yes Yes And the boy was hanged. YesYou heinous monsterShe did not give me a son, either. I wanted a son.She gave you Cordelia, your favorite.And she was true to you, said the ghost. Up to the time you sent her away.No The old king tried to wave the ghost away again.Oh yes. And you had your son, Lear. For years you had your son.I had no son. other farm girl you took near another battlefield, this one in Iberia.A bastard? I have a bastard son?I saw hope rise in Lears cold hawk eye and I wanted to bear it out the way that Regan had taken Gloucesters. I unsheathed the last of my throwing daggers.Yes, said the ghost. You had a son, these many years, and you lie in his arms now.What?The Natural is your son, said the ghost.Drool? said I.Drool? said Lear.Drool, said the ghost.Da said Drool. And he gave his newfound father a great, arm-rippling hug. Oh Da There was a cracking of bones and the sickly sound of air escaping wet, crushed lungs. Lears eyes bulged out of his head and his parchment-dry skin began to go full-bodied as Drool gave him a lifetime of sons love all in a moment.When the whistling sounds stopped coming out of the old man I went to Drool and pried his arms off, then lowered Lears head to the floor. Let loose, lad. Let him go.Da? said Drool.I closed the old mans crystal-blue eyes. Hes dead, Drool. jerk-off said the ghost. She spat, a tiny hole of ghost spit that came out as a moth and fluttered away.I stood then and spun on the ghost. Who are you? What injustice has been do ne that can be undone so your spirit may rest, or will at least make you go away, thou ether-limbed irritation?The injustice has been undone, said the ghost. At last.Who are you?Who am I? Who am I? Your answer is in a knock, good Pocket. belt upon your coxcomb, and ask that negligible machine of thought wherefrom comes his art. Knock upon your cod, and ask the small occupant who wakes him in the night. Knock upon your heart, and ask the spirit there who woke it to the caring of its home fire ask that attendee ghost who is this ghost before you.Thalia, said I, for I could, at last see her. I fell to my knees before her.Aye, lad. Aye. She put her hand on my head. Arise, Sir Pocket of wiener Snogging.But, why? Why did you never say you were a queen? Why?He had my daughter, my sweet Cordelia.And you always knew of my mother?I heard stories, but I didnt know who your father was, not while I lived.Why didnt you tell me of my mother?You were a little boy. Thats not the sort of apolo gue for a little boy.Not so little you wouldnt have me off through an arrow loop.That was later. I was going to tell you, but he had me walled up.Because we were caught?The ghost nodded. He always had a problem with the probity of others. Never his own.Was it horrible? I had tried not to think of her, alone in the dark, dying of hunger and thirst.It was lonely. I was always lonely, except for you, Pocket.Im sorry.Youre a love, Pocket. Good-bye. She reached through the bars and touched my cheek, like the slightest brush of silk it was. dread for her.What?She started to float toward the far wall where the body of Edmund lay.She said After grave law-breaking to daughters three,Soon the king a fool shall be. Nooooooo, wailed Drool. My old da is dead.No he isnt, said Thalia. Lear wasnt your father. I was having you on.She faded away and I started to laugh and she was gone.Dont laugh, Pocket, said Drool. I are an orphan.And she didnt even hand us the bloody keys, said I.Heavy footsteps fell on the stairs and Captain Curan appeared in the passage with two knights. Pocket Weve been looking for you. The day is ours and Queen Cordelia approaches from the south. What of the king?Dead, said I. The king is dead.