Lieutenant Voleur des Coeurs was an extraordinarily content fellow.
Sixteen years of age, a gilded youth, alone in the wilderness but for a company of his very own troops that papa had bought him and his best friend in all the world, he stretched luxuriously upon the camp bed his soldiers (rough fellows, but so obedient!) had popped together for him and admired the silken pavilion they’d erected for him.
“Here we are, Ensign Theophraste! Roughing it! It’s too, too delicious!” He poured them both a goblet of wine.
His dear friend, Theo chinked his goblet against his. “Only two carts for our necessaries! Mother would have a turn!”
“I’m sure! Ah what it is to be a Soldier in our dear Princes’ service!”
“How is Uncle August these days?”
“Not so bad. I do hear though that he still likes to get dressed in common people’s duds and pretend he’s incognito! As though he could with that lemon-sucking clerk of his shadowing his every movement!”
“Ha! And now I’m bored. Ah! The ennui. Whatever shall we do to relieve it?”
“Well, Theo, and don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, there was a reason I brought us here.”
“Really?”
“You’ve been my very dearest friend for quite some time now, is that not so?”
“Yes, two entire weeks.”
“And you trust me, don’t you?”
“More wine? I need more – cheers. Y-yes, where you follow, so shall I be there!”
“Excellent! Theo – I may call you Theo mayn’t I? – I’ve in mind a small adventure. Just you, me and a few of our stawart chaps. What do you say?”
“Can I have a drink of water Voleur? – it seems a little warm in here of a sudden.”
Of course – here. Now, what I propose is an excursion.”
“Oh.”
“To the far side of the lake.”
“Ah.”
“To explore those old ruins. I’m entirely sure they’re Roman or something. At the very least I’m sure they’ll inspire me to write some of my Arcadian poetry.”
”That would be the Vulgarian side of the lake, would it not Voleur?”
“Oh, yes, dear Theo, but we’ll be in and out before they know it. Whatever could possibly go wrong..?”
4 comments:
Oh, my, my, my! The plot really thickens, doesn't it?
For those of you unaware of what I mean, take a look at the Sept. 5 post on the following blog:
http://electorateofvulgaria.blogspot.com/
See, the plot thickens . . . I'll stay tuned for more (won't you too?)
-- Jeff
Greg, you write of "Arcadian Folly" just as I've posted about the "Wars of Arcadian Glory" --
http://saxe-bearstein.blogspot.com/
Interesting, what?
-- Jeff
My dear Jeff,
Obviously you are moving on the same plane as many of the other states of Interstitial Europe.
My fondest hope is that the Interstitial Peace may be maintained. This is the policy of our own dear Alzheim.
It is well known that our interests lie more in the arts of poetasting and the bibbing of the occasional fine vintage. Discord among the Nations both great and small of this Continent are most disagreeable to us and serve to interrupt the manufacture of cheese which is most inconvenient and to be avoided where possible.
Others, certain states who need not be named, for their identity is obvious to all, are not so pacifically inclined as we and therefore we must maintain an Armed Peace.
My very best wishes to you and your Consort,
Augustus
My Dear Augustus,
My noble prince, Bruno V of the House of von Ursa, ruler of Saxe-Bearstein, most certainly agrees with your stated sentiments.
-- the scribe, Jeff
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