Chapter 8
Farian
“Hey your gracious majesty.” the man in the red, green, yellow and black hat said. “I know it’s like puttin’ salt on da sticky bun mon, but there like be some ship and dey, you know, want some supplies.”
“Best be coolin down mon.” the king replied, he too had a red, green, yellow and black hat. “Just be givin’ them some stuff, it’s da way of da people, mon.”
“Sorry to be da wet leaf in da pipe, your gracious majesty, but we be down to our last t’ousand tons, mon.” The King took a pull on his pipe, and then another pull, still not breathing out he took another pull. A sure sign he was worried. He signalled with his hand and a group of young girls (Mostly debutants from Clemville’s more affluent suburbs on their gap year or trying to find themselves.) came running, well wondering, over. They helped the king to his feet and started carrying him to the door.
“No sweat it, mon.” the king said on his way out. “I’ll be bustin’ out da ‘mergency supply. You see if you can be gettin da farmer to bring in da crop.”
“Dat why you being da king, peace mon.”
“Peace.” The king made his wobbly way down to the psychedelic dock. (I’m not sure why stoned people think their stoned friends can help them walk better, maybe it’s the whole if everyone falls, no one can laugh thing.) They made it to the dock with only three spills and seven stops to top up on ‘oxygen’. The armada of ships that had been blockading Marshmid had gotten word that General Killem had moved off and with no more need for their services, they had moved off. As most of them needed to re-supply before sailing off to their ports of call, and didn’t want to pay the high prices Marshmid was now demanding, they were stopping at nearby harbours. The smart captains were sailing straight through to The Nameless Metropolis, even if it did mean sacrificing a few men to the age old practice of eating the weak or fat or both. It was better than stopping off at Farian, where a ship’s captain could look forward to desertion, dereliction of duty, mutiny and infuriating harbour officials.
“Hey, mon.” the king said to a group of very angry rookie captains getting ready to lynch the harbourmaster. “What seem ta be da trouble.”
All the captains tried to talk at once.
“Chill out mon. You wit da wild hair. Speak ta da king.”
It was lucky that he pointed, as most pirate captains have wild hair.
“We be looken fir supplies, arg.” the one with the wildest hair said.
“No sweat mon.” the king replied. “I just be sendin’ da fella ta get ya wantin’s for ya.”
“We be much obliged your grace.” the man said and then threw in an arg, just to make sure everyone was clear that he was a pirate, even though this was his first gig as captain.
“Why don’t you be joinin’ me and da lovelies at da palace?”
The captains all agreed, remember they were very inexperienced at their jobs.
By early evening the cutthroat, bad assed pirates were very chilled, the ships crews had all made their way into town and were enjoying Farian’s biggest business, second only to the cold pizza shops, which also made a killing that night, money wise that is. Any time someone thought about asking for supplies, a hubbly was shoved in their mouth. In the end it probably would have been cheaper to buy their supplies, in Marshmid.
The Great Desert spa and Gangster Hide Out
“That’s the last of the kings and queens.” Monsieur DeBackrub said to his staff. “We only have this morning to get ready for the six families to arrive. I know Sal Ca'pin is already in residence, and those of you that have already had the pleasure of dealing with him will know what I mean when I say gangsters can be very demanding.” Almost everyone in the crowd nodded their heads. Most people thought the egotistical megalomaniac kings and stuck up demanding queens would be the worst at a spa, or any outing for that matter, but at least they let you know, all be it in derogatory terms, when you were displeasing them. With gangsters, they mumble something, while stroking their chin, and the next thing you know you’re either learning to breathe under water or neck deep in the desert.
“Monsieur.” One of the chambermaids asked. (Monsieur DeBackrub liked people to believe he was more larny than his slums of Mineston upbringing would suggest.)
“Oui.” he replied straight faced, remembering his accent.
“Will we be required to, um, service them, like the kings.”
“Yes Margo, are you on the list to become a sister?” he replied, completely losing the accent.
“No sir. Sorry. No monsieur, I’m on my gap year, monsieur, I just couldn’t get into Farian.”
“Very well, I will move you onto kitchen duty. Are there any others that should not be servicing the customers?” Only two hands were raised. “Okay, I will move you two to kitchen duty a’so.”
“Sorry monsieur, but we are on kitchen duty, could we become chambermaids?”
“Oui. Okay everyone let us get to work.”
Everyone made their way to their posts. Monsieur DeBackrub hated the annual families get together, he always ended up losing staff, don’t get him wrong, the money was great, but he hated retraining staff.
He walked along the corridor to the four men in black suits with dark glasses, standing in front of a door.
“Bonsoir gentlemen, could I ‘ave a word with Monsieur Ca’pin.”
“He is expecting you.” One of the men replied, opening the door for him. Monsieur DeBackrub started to sweat. He walked through the door, only to be confronted by another four men, they searched him and let him pass into the hot tub room. Sal Ca’pin was lounging in the bath with two ‘friends’ he had brought with him.
“It is good that you have decided to grace my presence.” Sal said
“Oui, your command is my pleasure.”
“Yes, yes. Sit. I need to ask you a favour; in return I will do you a service for you. Capish.”
“Capish, I mean oui.” Monsieur DeBackrub replied, the heat from the room making him sweat even more.
“I have a close personal friend coming.” Sal said. “Bobby No Face. He is one ugly son of a whore. I want you to find someone to look after him.”
“Oiu monsieur.” Monsieur DeBackrub replied.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love him like a brother, but he is repulsive. You must find a really sick woman, who is into that sort of thing, you know keep him away from the meeting. Good, now the service I offer you. I’m going to take care of your mother-in-law. I know she owns this establishment, so it will be yours if you do me this favour. Am I making myself clear?”
“Oiu, very clear mister Ca’pin, sir. Thank you.”
“Good, now get out of here.” Monsieur DeBackrub left, and the grin couldn’t be wiped from his face, even when one of the stoves exploded, taking half the kitchen staff with it.
Somewhere in the Horn mountains
“What’s eating you Rock?” large Greg Copper asked, “Have the termites come back again?”
“No, I just don’t feel well.” Rock replied and moaned. “I think it’s my stomach.”
“Sorry Rock. Hey wait a minute, you don’t have a stomach.”
“You know what I mean? It hurts where my stomach would be if I had one. Maybe it’s something I ate.”
“Sorry Rock. Hey wait a minute, you don’t eat.”
“Yes I do.”
“No you don’t”
“Do.”
“Don’t.” (Oh gods these two again. I’m going to leave out the whole arguing and sleeping thing, feel free to assume that it’s there.)
“How come every time I want to go deeper into the cave you always get sick?” Greg asked.
“It’s just coincidence.” Rock replied.
“You know what I think?” Greg said walking around Rock, he didn’t do much walking, he found it painful when he suddenly had a catnap more than a meter off the ground. “I think you’re scared that I might get hurt, and you don’t want to lose your only friend.”
&
nbsp; “You’re not my only friend.” Rock replied in a huff, “I have plenty of friends.”
“Fine then I’m going into the cave.” Rock thought about it and decided that it would be best if he lied a little.
“You’re right, I don’t want to see you get hurt.” Once again he had managed to prevent someone from going into the cave. Rock’s sworn duty was to protect the deep cave. He hadn’t had to fight so hard since Gelmont the Lost had last stayed in the cave. He knew that one day someone would come with the password and Rock would finally be free to erode in peace.