14: Urgent Counsels

The great counsel sat in silense. The old oaken clock ticked monotonously, then suddenly broke the silence with three loud bongs. Three o'clock. King Horatio the NVN jittered with excitement in his seat. Felipe, sitting next to him, leaned over and whispered something. Horatio smiled.
"Just wait," he whispered back.
The echos of the clock chime faded and the ticking resumed. Gathered around the table, the nobles of the city waited quietly for the final member of the counsel to arrive. Finally, the door at the end of the room creaked open and Sir John, a baron of Nuveranderim entered.
"My humblest apologies, o King, at my delay. I am afraid--"
"Don't you worry yourself about it," said the King amiably, "no one minded the short wait. Now please have a seat."
Sir John stared in surprise. This was not the response he had been expecting. He detected a sense of foreboding lingering in the countenances of everyone besides the King and Felipe, but nothing else seemed wrong. The King smiled. Felipe rubbed his hands. Sir John sat down.
A long silence ensued, ended by a loud crash as Felipe fainted and toppled from his chair. The King, aghast, stuttered as if trying to muster up words. Finally he succeeded.
"EXECUTE MY ROYAL WHOOPIE CUSHION MAKER!!!!" he bellowed, "This is inexcusable!!!! I am calling off the counsel!!!!"
"My Liege, begging your pardon," put in the king's servant, "but this incident is minor compared to what could be happening to you daughter right now!"
"Did you not hear me! I am calling off the counsel! My daughter can wait! Now get out of my sight! Execute my royal whoopie cushion maker, and raise the taxes ten percent while you're at it! I am going to bed!"
With that King Horatio the NVN stormed from the room. A groan came from beneath the table.
"I think I may have bruised my cheekbone," whined Felipe, struggling to stand up, "but despite the overwhelming pain I can think of nought but my poor love, Edith, lonely and alone--Ouch! Oh, my toe! I think it may be bruised as well! But I cannot allow physical wounds to hinder me! Edith is in danger, and must be rescued! Forget the counsel! I am off!
Felipe dashed out the door, and a sound very much like that of a man in full armour falling down a flight of stairs ensued. Then silence reigned again. The men around the table stared at each other, waiting for someone to speak. Eventually, Sheriff Bob stood up.
"It theems to me that that the dithapearanth of Printheth Edith ith too great a dithathter to be ignored. I thay that we continue the counthel even though the King is abthent."
There was a murmur of agreement.
"I propoth that we handle thith matter thientifically, and thouroughly exthamine all the evidenth we have. Then we will determine our acthion."
"Let us begin, then!" shouted Sir John, and the counsel was underway.

The water wheel of the old abandoned mill groaned and creaked as it struggled to make yet another revolution around its rotting axle. Cascading over the small waterfall, the river continued to propel the wheel on, year after year. The nearby residents cared nothing about the mill; it had no place in their daily lives and there was no reason why it should. No one ever paused to think how once this tumbledown, water-logged, mossy structure had been the most successful mill in the city. But when the owner died, and another man who knew nothing of the miller's trade bought the property, it fell into disuse. The old customers merely went other places to buy their flour. It was under this new landlord that the mill became nothing more than rustic scenery-- and a hideout for criminals.

As the splashing river and moaning planks made other sounds inaudible, two such men were holding an urgent conversation within.
"Was there anyone else there?" Edward was frantically prodding his accomplice.
"I...I think so...It looked like the old man was speaking to someone who ran out a back door as soon as I shot."
"Was this person holding anything?"
"Well, I couldn't see that well, and I wa-"
"Was the person holding anything!"
"I...think she was..."
"It's a 'she?' You're sure?"
"She was wearing a dress, I am almost certain."
"What kind of dress?"
"I...well I assume the usual sort of dress."
"Did she look like she was used to wearing that kind of dress?"
"Sir! I don't know that!"
"And you said she was holding something?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"I don't know, exactly. She had something--a box I think--and then the old man gave her something else, and then she ran."
"What did he give her?!"
"I couldn't tell, Sir."
"Oh why did I hire you idiot! Which way did she run?"
"North, Sir. Toward the gate."
Sir Edward, sat solemnly in thought for several minutes, then looked up.
"Richard, I believe it is time I set out and rescued princess Edith, don't you think?"
"Wha--"
"Good. We'll be off tomorrow. I'll expect you to have everything prepared for us to leave the city."
"Yes sir."

--Thomas H