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#1  [P] For the Sake of the Kingdom [Chapter 3 Posted] Volume I: The Fool And on the knight rode long and Long by steed of metal feet, 'Til broke the skyline, rising Well onto the cloud, replete Of lucidest rock a spire, Bricks laid crystal as the fire Burns above could bear it true; Much was worth that brilliant hue. "Who is there?" His voice rang through The house before him, and to The field after, when then a Sharp bell rang. The vales and alps And brakes, their trees within, Echoed back in full turn, and Soonafter the world was live With noise, its veins through which flew Unrest, calling out to the Lone and weary knight, burnt with Venture in all ways were he. From the screams of the world came A voice as made from the great White-gold tower and bulwark. "Have your business be here, knight? Turn yourself to the forest, So says our good king, if soon Thereafter entering his Great walls you will gift no part For him or for his person." "One so honourable, have Him all but my shield. Let down The gate that I may enter." The knight so called in return, Clutching his hands to his head In fear from the pitches, at His every side did they score. "No, Knight, we colloquy here And now from his halls to yours." "Only a bed with sheets and Breakfast do I want, so save Me from these bloody reigns for A single passing of the Moon and its panacea." "These walls are his you have so Wandered on, knight, and you will Have a cot when only he Sees you to it." The crier Cried back, nobly in his deed. "I mean no disrespect to His Grace. I have rode long and Longer more, past even the Lodgings at the blind monks' church To the farthest south of this Isle, but been since then a full Fortnight and since then have I Had no sheets but my shield, no Bunk but my mount, and no fare But the fruit from the trees next My wanderwary path, it Haphazard as has been this Many month, do I want no More than be a warm headrest." The world's cries stopped and the knight Took his hands from his head and Latched back hold of his reigns, the Cracks in his palms accepting Them with a familiarity He wished more than all else gone. "If your lord will not have me Then to the forest I will Go, rust fast my mail at marsh In the anon coming nights' For ever cold. But there I Will go if this morn your king Will give leave not for these boots Of mine to clatter on his Kingdom, may they be not clean." "Clatter on his kingdom have Your boots already, knight, and If the forest might soon be Your doom, it is not by my Merit that you may halt. But Tell me as much as may be Your design before you go, And call up your name after, And perhaps your fate will then Differ; the king's gate will fall." The knight scoffed, from every word Tossed up his lungs scratching fire. "My past is my own and no Man who were not there to mold It might hear of it after. A more hospitable lord I'll find in the land of the Undergrowth, with clawing fangs And a bitter venom, in Any case. Perhaps may my Murder be by a kingdom Wealthier than this. Sir Cairn Galloway, an errant short Errand is all that I am; No more have I come to prove Myself than have I come to Bring to bear my colt." And the Horse trotted at neardeath case Into the line of shrub and Tree, let the shadows have him. "But knight, Sir Galloway, could The king have but your sword I May let lower the wall's great Gate and you may yet have your Stay and morning patronage." Volume II: The Devil When quick he was so sent off, He wondered why he then cried Back, "For my sword, I will then Have a bed." Though the knight's pride Be lost behind, left chasing After down winding trails, blind, And naked all the tears of Its flesh, even in its loss He knew not a knight with no Arm or head or heart for sword. Theresoon the great gate of oak Crashed croaking to the ground and The grinding iron chains let It so fall. Heavy hooves do Sound heavier by wood than By earth and Achaius's Crippled, cumbrous paw did much To fall the gate below the Ground, so did his weight to bear. “May take your horse to stable His Lord's horseman?” Called a knight Of white, agleam enough for Its own and that of hero Sir Galloway's, fouled and vague Cherry shades from his boundless Meandering. This pearl knight was Pure Sir Bevol Nicholas. “As my soles itch for the taste Of earth, so am I afraid Do his soles ache for soon death.” Galloway called, demounted, And let ride away his foal By lead of King's stablekeep. “There is much pride to be shown In the care of Kibery's Stable. By wish alone bid Your grand horse fall.” And took to His knee in a far low bow, “My name is knight Sir Bevol Nicholas, Champion to The king of this wondrous place.” Bent a bow so low did his Beard touch the cobble stones by His muddy foot, Galloway Acquainted as offered and The two greatmen sided their Swords, turned from the gate as it Rose, and then followed path by Winding path between the spry World's banter toward the great Bastion at the most busy Citadel's careful center. Reluctance of nice gatesmen In mind, “His Lord keeps a kind Kingdom.” Galloway flattered. “These meteoric walls splendour Enough for the world's choosy Satisfaction, may its lust For shine be not sated at Elsewhere. More brilliant is this Kibery even more so Than the palaces of the Clouds high raised; so does his bed Chamber reach them but for a Stair.” Nicholas's gaze fell Far through Galloway's wonder. “Yes, there rise that tower for Eyes a great mile or more.” “And the towns of that mile or More may look and be happy For his wealth and the wealth of His country, blessed as it is.” “There is gold beyond this home?” “More gold than before your sight, Sir Knight. For our king's daughter Would a man trade fivefold this Land, and have none other than I been presented her dear hand.” “May your life be full of grace.” “That will be all of my life, Kind knight be Sir Galloway.” And on they walked for well a Quarter of the hour until Last the tired knight's words sprang forth, “In all respect, might query The emergence of such a Filter at your king's tall gate?” “I might not apologize In my Lord's place, for his words Bear more weight than mine, as by Unauthority of the Gods to give is mine as well, But let you know that his Lord Here is the quickest to scare.” Volume III: The Emperor “Mary, I may have fright to My floors! Do knock, daughter, for A kingdom lost of king for No clapping at a door – and Wary there be his lord's bed Chamber door – is fit for an Other ruler.” Edwin the Second sat boltly and stiff In his kind, noble sheeting. Had the king the night before Surely known his ale and slept The afternoon to let his Dreams tell him a tale. To sit He rose with a deeply wheeze. And with a giggle at his Gasp and heavy breath his babe Beauty did reply, “Father, This kingdom would have no king Other. For scaring you I Do apologize.” She made Way to his bedside as let His smallest digits trace o'r His royal pillow's frill and Told to whisper from a close Chair, “So sent an other new Traveler in through your gates. He is Sir Cairn Galloway, With a fast and steady sword Arm for your well direction.” “And his colours?” That king said, Taking swift steps from his bed And to his dresser, readying His face for to meet the knight. “They're dinged to show his long way From which ever path may lead His home, but once burning rose Were they, have I seen for mine.” And were his relations to That blush hue gold, so the king Made quick to greet the wand'rer In better view than her words. Fleetly did his dress meet his Back and his feet meet his deep Stair when at all apace did He reach the ground and to the Great hall, where his Champion Awaited, to whom he spoke Chiefly. “I may meet him now.” When then he sat in his great Cathedra, quick rehearsing. To the door went Nicholas, And came back followed by the King's grand guest. “Your Honour, knight Sir Cairn Galloway.” And then Galloway bent forward at his Girth again, claws curled closely About his back wrapping to his Forward to bend his waist full. “You bear noble colours, knight. Wherefore have your steed taken You and where would be your house?” “Many more a country than I should remember to list, Your Honour, by scores were they.” “And which of those many country Did you once call your own home?” “Each one may be in one way Or another mine abode. My place there was left and that Place was left in me. And now Wheresoever my horse may Be may I call my country Of heart. Your Grace, I thank you For my venture through your much Brilliant walls, luster do they.” “In that case may this be your Home for until your steed shall Carry you elseway. My walls Have made from pure clay of the Sun. They shine like only the Heaven's one own candle might. “Thank you for such of your true Hospitality, M'Lord. Your city is truly fine.” “Why, thank you greatly, Sir Knight. Though, if your home does move so, How still might be your kinship?” “As still as my shield under Force of embers, Your Honour.” “Well enough for my liking. You may stand, Sir Galloway.” “Veracious thanks to you, Lord.” “By stain of feet and shirt, and By tear of coat and palm, you No doubt have seen through many Terrains in what a long voyage You have endured. I wonder Under what sun this voyage Began.” The king tensed in his Throneseat, be wary of cheats. “My sword be yours as you need Until my steed won't stay, but, In due respect to Your Grace, My youth I may keep as mine. If surely you must know, then –” “Yes, young noble knight, I must.” “M'Lord, I hail from the torn City of Bavari, left Only rubble before I Parted way from it by boat.” And thus the king gave the knight A condolence and called in His assemblage of knights and For food of every the kind, Chicken, beef, fish, pork, cheeses Of all the sorts, bread of Barley, bread of brown, and bread Of white, apples, grapes, a pear Three for each plate, chestnuts, beans Abundant, rice the brownest, With wine and ale and tea and Honey and spices to make Thickest and purest the soul, At which Sir Galloway did Secretly marvel with what Intent the king feasted or If it was at every the Insignificant tarriance That he take so strongly to The throat of his bakers all. After less than long the hall Was full with singing and dance And bards' tales and the men were All satisfied and sailing Mightily on their spirits. While the mirth and merriment A memory sprang to mind's Forefront and Sir Galloway's Thoughts played aloud. “I wonder, Your Honour, for which demand Your bell did ring, for surely I heard at early this day?” “My carillon be dusty This full year, knight. You heard no Chime from my great belfry, though Far as you may have been, would Have heard it still at its last Ring, mind sure you know.” Having Had his own few bowl of brew. Were not for the ale would he Have pondered half a word more, But Galloway's weary eyes And head were drifting of their Own and soon shown his room by A young maid of Nicholas's, Adella. Soon her hands had Pushed under him his comfort And let lay him upon the Clouds and fast found him a dream Song to which he could listen While he slept, so soundly he Seemed to never be waken. But so were the songs of the Succubus Lamia loud And stronger and soon his good Illusions had formed a dire Nightmare in Adella's place. The eyes of the world looked down Upon Galloway, and he Was no longer dressed in his Mail. No longer were he knight Of his brethren and given Name of his own apart from His fathers' line. From his mount He dove through his bedclothing Naked into a swamp of Curling, twisting venoms and Pearly teeth wishing no more Than to sharpen by his bone. But the river became seas Of serpents and he plunged through Them to the world's inner end. Soon he was apierce by the Million of fang and his skin Rotted away at every Touch, wet his bone of acid From his own vein, tendons and Muscles burning away and Lighting fire to the world Around him. A skull were he, Dancing like the bleeding damned In the flying flames until At last he died and felt no More but the screams of silence. Last edited by Mogi; 09-28-2009 at 04:46 AM.. |
09-22-2009, 03:35 AM
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