Chapter 5 - This part happens in a place apart from the main place.
written by Tom McNally, illustrated by Bruno Stahl
The above illustration is, of course, just a rough sketch of the painting that Bruno shall be making quite shortly. Help to fund this project on Indiegogo!
You can listen to this chapter through the magic of KINGCAST
“Please move your goats, old man.” This is General Majesty speaking. He was speaking to a strange old man standing amongst a thousand thousand goats that he was herding across the road. “I have half a million men here under my command. We are marching North under direct orders of the King Of Europe. But we can't. Because of your goats.” The old man ordered his goats to shush so that they could have a decent conversation. A thousand thousand goats can make an awful racket.
“They are there, General Majesty, friend of the King, because I have something to tell you,” piped the old man, trembling at the top of his stick. General Majesty was kind, and generally pretty good with people, so he let the strange old man speak.
“Very well, here I am. What would you tell me. You could start by telling me who you are.” said the General.
“Who am I? I am the one who will warn you of the danger. Your mission North will end in defeat and tragedy. You will be betrayed, General Majesty, and it will hurt. It will hurt you real bad.”
“I do not believe you. You are just a strange old man.”
But the old man was gone. To General Majesty and Mechanicus and everyone else, it looked as if he had just vanished. But the camera focuses on a goat in the herd that looks different. It looks strange and old. It laughs in goat and leads the other goats away, clearing the road. General Majesty shrugs and leads his troops on down the road.
“Hypothetically speaking, who amongst us would be capable of betrayal?” said Mechanicus to General Majesty some time later. “Who could betray the King?”
“Maybe you, Mechanicus. Ever think of that?” said General Majesty.
“Well, what about you?” snapped Mechanicus cleverly. At that, General Majesty started to cry. He tried not to let Mechanicus know that he was crying, but Mechanicus had known the General since they were both small boys. They had no secrets between them, except the thing about Mechanicus being from the future. Mechanicus offered a cyber-hanky for his friend's tears and a firm robot hand for his shoulder.
“Hey listen, I'm going to prepare some ice-cream for everybody. You and me and all of the men. Cookie Dough and pistachio. Not even you can argue with that, General.”
General Majesty couldn't argue. Nobody could. Mechanicus went and hid behind a tree. There was a burst of blue light and then he was in the Future. He went to the nearest ice-cream and frozen yoghurt shop (for in the Future, one is never more than two hundred meters from an ice-cream and frozen yoghurt shop,) he hailed the ice-cream drone and said, “I require five hundred thousand and two double-scoop ice-cream cups, please. Cookie dough and pistachio, if that's not too much bother.” The ice-cream drone recognised him instantly.
“Hey, aren't you Mechanicus? What is it like, hanging out with the King in Medieval Times?” he asked.
“It is highly fulfilling. In fact, I've just this morning – relative to the Medieval timeline – set out on the King's historic quest to kill Winter.”
“Oh, that must be so cool to see,” said the drone.
“It is,” agreed Mechanicus.
“Tell me again, how do the rules of time-travel work, again? I don't know because I am just a lowly ice-cream drone. Ice-cream is all I know. Can you change the way that quest turned out?”
Mechanicus smiled. He did not tell the ice-cream drone how the rules of time-travel worked in this story. He did not want him to know whether it was possible for him to change the past or alter the outcome of the King's adventure beyond what the history in his time had dictated. He did not want to break the dramatic tension for the poor fellow, who had so little to live for. He instead changed the subject to the bill for the ice-cream. “Eighty nine million Euros! That is a lot of scratch!”
“Good thing our future society has abolished money,” beamed the drone.
“It most certainly is. Goodbye, ice-cream drone. It's been pleasant knowing you.”
Back in Medieval Times, the jolly sounds of tongues protruding through a half-million smiles, brushing against frozen cream could be heard long into the night.
Everyone slept soundly and they forgot all about the strange old man.
End Of Chapter 5
