Wednesday 16 April 2014

The Lost Diaries of King Nigel the One-Eyed



5th of July, fourteen ninety five:

 I can’t believe my luck. It’s only been three weeks since I left my father’s kingdom, and already I’ve found a land of my very own to rule! How well I remember the mocking laughter of the court as I rode off in a fury, but this last indignity was more than a prince could bear. It’s one thing for my father to pass me over as his successor, but to appoint the leper who rakes the stables over his only son? And it’s all because I only have one eye, not that he’d ever admit that. “Flaky Tom just has more of a regal bearing.” He said, draping my cloak over the scabby peasant. What rubbish! It’s because he’s ashamed of me, and because everybody laughs about how I lost my eye in the first place. In hindsight I can see that pointing a bow at your own face is a touch foolish, but I was new to archery and wanted to check if the thing was loaded. The Hell with them! Let them laugh, because I now have a kingdom of my very own. How can someone with no ruling experience become a monarch in only three weeks you ask? Well because everybody here is blind. They took me in this morning when I found myself tangled in a bramble patch, and it wasn’t long before I realised that taking control of this land would be a simple matter. There was some opposition when I first proclaimed myself ruler, as they had never felt the need for a king before and seemed to prefer a life of egalitarian simplicity. But after hitting a few of them with a stout branch, and claiming the branch was a royal sceptre, they seemed to accept my authority. With my coronation settled, I decreed that my first action as sovereign would be to collect taxes. Unfortunately my subjects had no gold, as their entire infrastructure centred on growing berries, but I claimed a handful on principle. Tomorrow I shall order my subjects to build me castle. My first day as king has gone splendidly!


6th of July, fourteen ninety five:
Alright, my first night as king didn’t go quite as splendidly. I arose at midnight to find a privvy and fell into the river. When I demanded a candle to light my way, the response was, “what’s a candle?” On the way back to my hut I fell into the river again. Clearly there are some essential items these people have never had a use for. I have postponed the construction of my castle until the lighting issue is resolved. Some of the peasants clearly don’t understand the point of a king, as they grumbled about having to waste time making objects solely for my benefit. I illustrated the fundamentals of monarchy by thrashing them with my sceptre branch.

10th of July, fourteen ninety five:
Disaster! The candle problem is solved, but the castle is going nowhere! Why did I think that people blind from birth would know anything about masonry or architecture? I should have noticed that they all live in simple thatched huts. Despite all my authoritative commands there were 70 deaths in the first morning. By noon the workforce had totally fallen apart, as my subjects wandered around trying to discover which of their blasted relatives were alive or dead. I attempted to restore some discipline with my sceptre, but the disapproval was so strong that I decided to hide in the bramble patch until the funerals were over. My subjects are close to revolt, and I must tread carefully.

15th of July, fourteen ninety five:
After almost a week of sleeping in the bramble patch and living off berries, I felt that enough time had passed to reassert my rule. Taking the soft approach, I suggested that my subjects might build me a slightly larger hut upon a hill. They agreed, but only if I would abdicate and hand over my sceptre. I did so, and then waiting until the construction was complete, I observed aloud that the land was now without a king, and would be claiming the position for myself. They beat me with my own sceptre and threw me in the bramble patch.

29th of July, fourteen ninety five:
Things are peaceful in the kingdom at present, mostly because every morning a group of large men come to the door of my castle and make me admit I am not their king. I comply, but always have my fingers crossed when I do so. Such are the political gambits a ruler must employ. I have used this period of stability to make plans for a war with my father’s kingdom. While I am pleased to have come so far in so short a time, I feel my station deserves a good deal more respect than it is currently receiving. I want to rule from within a huge stone castle, in a land where I don’t have to collect taxes by sneaking into people’s homes at night. Most importantly, I will require a queen in order to further my legacy, but none of the local peasant girls seem interested in becoming royalty. I know for a fact that the girl who makes my berry stew delights in spitting on the meal before she serves it. For these reasons and many others I intend to gather an army which will dethrone my father and grant me the power which is rightfully mine. Given the delicate political atmosphere at the moment, I have decided not to announce the upcoming invasion to the people. I feel they would misunderstand the political importance of expanding the kingdom, and fail to grasp the economic and strategic benefits of war. Also they might beat me up again. Instead, I have formed a plan which will ever so subtly manoeuvre the key parties into a position where they are at their most vulnerable. Even years from now, when all the epic battles have been fought and my rule stands unopposed, people will never know the elegant web of plotting I have woven.

8th of August, fourteen ninety five:
Rode to a cathedral in my father’s kingdom and beat the cardinal to death with a candlestick. I left a declaration of war pinned to his chest, along with directions to my castle. Let them come, we will be ready.

9th of August, fourteen ninety five:  
As I crouched in the bramble patch watching my father’s soldiers raze my kingdom to ashes, I began to wonder why the Almighty had cursed me with such unworthy subjects. Even though I had armed them all, of the 200 or so who were in the village when the enemy descended, not one of them managed to knock a knight from his mount. I thought at the very least we would manage to capture a few nobles, and ransom them off in return for my father’s surrender, but my entire militia was trampled in less than an hour. The lesson I have taken from this is that no matter how inspiring the leadership, the poor are basically useless. I did everything in my power during our three hours of training to turn a village of blind farmers into an elite fighting force, but they simply refused to learn. I find myself better understanding the villagers who ran away when I announced our battle for the kingdom, and I deeply regret firing arrows at them as they fled. As a king in exile, the first thing to do is to reclaim my land back from the invaders, which I will do as soon as they have gone home.

10th of August, fourteen ninety five:
While foraging for enough berries to constitute a banquet, I stumbled upon a band of my former subjects huddling in a clearing. I considered raising their spirits with a rousing speech, but the tone of their conversation convinced me that it would be safer to climb a tree first. From this lofty position I spoke at length on finding strength in defeat, and how our enemies would pay for their brutality. When they began using their new swords to hack through the trunk, I came to the grave realisation that these ignorant peasants were simply too unruly to serve me. I dropped sadly from the tree and snuck away, though not before taking their remaining berries as a final tax collection.

17th of August, fourteen ninety five:
I am composing this diary entry on behalf of my son, who I found wandering through the forest while I was hunting some rebellious peasants. He seems to have recently gone blind, and keeps ranting about some evil berries. I’m not actually going to write down any of the things he’s dictating, since it seems to be a lot of nonsense, but having read through his diary it seems the poor boy has gone mad. I have decided to return him to my castle and tell him that his armies successfully conquered my kingdom. Hopefully if I shut him up in the tower and let him believe he is king he’ll stop riding off and starting rebellions. I still remember the week he proclaimed himself king of the deaf.

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