08-28-2023, 04:55 PM
(Jointly written with Lauchenoiria)
Three days later…
The Saladian Pride, the yacht of the Marquis, was bobbing happily off the coast of Zargothrax. It had been escorted by what was now the flagship of the Saladian navy, the ship that Yousef and the gang had brought to Salad Land. That ship had been christened the Saladian Defender, and it had been haphazardly armed. The two ships waited for the Thraxian authorities to contact them.
The Thraxian authorities, meanwhile, were wondering whether or not Salad Land intended to reply in kind, and thus sent animal control officers to the docks before contacting the Saladians and giving them instructions to bring their ships into the ports of Castle Zargo. A messenger was sent to the King’s laboratory to inform him of the visitors. After visiting the laboratory, the messenger then attempted to quit his job, was denied permission, and had a mental breakdown. But this was not known to the Saladian visitors.
With a few of his personal guards in tow, the Marquis walked onto the dock. He was dressed in his finest golden waistcoat, with a brilliant green cape trimmed in gold billowing in the wind behind him. A tricorn hat and a golden rapier completed the ensemble. He stopped at the end of the dock, taking the hat off with a sweeping gesture to the Thraxians waiting for him. "I am Bastien de Salad, Marquis of Salad Land. I am here to request a parley with the King."
The animal control officers were relieved that they weren’t about to be faced by an army of wolves or some other such thing. They stepped aside and allowed the royal liaison, who had also been sent to the docks, to guide the group to the royal palace. The city had been built when the Zargo family took over the entirety of the Thraxian peninsula. This, however, happened in 1738 - meaning the city was still rather old. The palace was, naturally, up the top of a large hill, which the Marquis and his entourage were led up on foot.
“Our apologies for the lack of a vehicle,” the liaison said, “there is only one road to the palace and it is currently closed.” What he didn’t say was that it was closed because the King had ordered it so; after several cats fell asleep in the middle of it.
"No reason to apologize. A brisk walk is just the thing sometimes. Have to stay fit, you know." The Marquis strode eagerly up the hill. His guards did their best to keep up; at least some of them did not share their master's passion for fitness.
The view of the city was at least good as they walked. They could see the old walls, and the growth of the settlement far beyond them. They could see the wealthy areas, with their large houses and non-native trees kept alive using hose pipes in the dry climate. Beyond those, they could also see the poor areas, with the houses half falling apart and crammed too close together. Closest was the shopping district, with foreign department stores standing to either side of a row of market stalls.
Upon arrival in the palace, they were led inside and taken to the throne room. Inside, King Shapur sat upon his throne, a cat in his lap. Eleven other cats sat beside the throne, nine of which were asleep and two of which were play-fighting. The King’s five other children were lined up at the side of the room, while Chief Advisor Hashemi stood to the side of the throne. A number of Thraxian nobles were also gathered in the room, watching the proceedings nervously.
The proceedings involved a man on his knees in front of the throne, sobbing. The King was glaring at the man, when he suddenly shouted “seven!” and two guards came, picked up the man and dragged him off, still sobbing. “Everyone else out!” the King then demanded, turning to face the Marquis. He stared, expectantly.
The Marquis gave a short nod of civil respect. "Greetings, your Majesty. I am Bastien de Salad, Marquis of Salad Land. I have come here to request a parley between us about our current…difficulties."
“Fascinating,” the King said, looking the Marquis up and down. “Did you bring a salad?” he asked.
"Actually, I did. It's customary when arriving somewhere as a guest in Salad Land." The Marquis gestured to one of his guards, who brought forth an ornate wooden box. When the lid was opened, it revealed that the wooden box was merely the covering for a fancy cooler. Inside was a large serving of salad, neatly wrapped and placed inside a nice bowl.
The King clapped his hands together in delight. “Why thank you! This has made my day much better! That man you saw earlier, he refused to get a cat. How can I protect Thraxians from the apocalypse if they keep refusing to follow God’s guidance? So, I sentenced him to a week in prison, a hundred rial fine, and to spend a month working at the cat shelter when he gets out. He then claimed he was a ‘dog person’, so I decided to multiply each part of his sentence by seven. Honestly!”
“The war, Your Majesty,” Hashemi murmured in his ear.
“Ah yes! Prince Amir, come here,” the King gestured to his youngest son. The seven-year-old practically skipped over, grinning. He was wearing purple robes covered in stars, with a badge that read ROYAL WIZARD, PRINCE AMIR. At least, if you could read Persian. “Where’s your hat?” the King demanded in Persian.
“Sorry father, it blew away in the wind,” Prince Amir said in Persian, hanging his head. His English still required a lot of work. “It was too big for me.”
“Never mind now,” the King said, then switched back to English. “Tell me, Marquis, have you ever summoned a demon?”
"No, never. I hear that they're awful on the furniture and that they pee everywhere," Bastien replied in a deadpan voice. What kind of a question is that?
“Ah, it must have been someone else then,” Shapur sighed. “That’s unfortunate. I’ll have to find the summoner separately once we exorcise it.”
"Exorcise…what? Or who?" The Marquis was beginning to have a bad feeling about this.
“The demon that’s possessing you,” Shapur replied. “That is the only logical explanation. You see, when I was in the hospital, I communed with God. He told me that there would be an apocalypse soon; that it would be started by a demon in disguise, who would try to destroy the servants of good. He told me that He needed me to get cats for all those who should be saved. That only with the company of cats would salvation be possible. You tried to curse my cats. Therefore, you must be possessed by a demon.”
"Unless you mean the awful case of upset stomach that I had after the last time I ate at Mickey Knife's, I can assure you that nothing has possessed me recently. And I am not sure about being exorcised."
“My Royal Wizard shall perform the exorcism,” the King said calmly. “Don’t worry, Marquis, you will feel much better once the foul demon is out of your body. Amir?”
The 7-year-old stepped behind the throne, lifting up a box that seemed almost as large as him. He waddled with the box to stand next to the Marquis and then pulled out a bag of salt. He began to pour it in a circle around the Marquis.
I wish there was a drink with that salt, because I could sure use one now, the Marquis thought to himself. He shrugged and decided to let the kid finish whatever he was playing at.
After Amir had finished the salt circle, he went back to the box, and brought out a large fake magic wand, alongside a packet of white face masks. He went around the room, handing out face masks to his siblings, to his father, and to all the guards stationed in the room. He even offered some to the Saladians accompanying the Marquis.
After looking at the Marquis and getting a nod, the Saladians collectively shrugged and put on the masks.
Once everyone was masked up, Amir pulled out the reason the box was so large. He placed wooden carvings of planets around the circle, careful not to touch the salt. He had to consult a piece of paper while doing so, in order to get them in the right order. Once he was finished, he took his wand and walked clockwise around the circle, tapping the wand to each wooden planet and chanting in Persian. Once he was finished, he turned and repeated the same chant, this time in Arabic. He turned a third time and repeated it in English, reading off his piece of paper.
“On Neptune I call to separate the soul from the demon. On Uranus I call to protect the soul from the demon. On Saturn I call to bind the demon. On Jupiter I call to strengthen the soul against the demon. On Mars I call to pull the demon from the body. On Earth I call to protect the body from the demon. On Venus I call to shatter the tie of the demon to the body. On Mercury I call to banish the demon to Hell!”
Then the prince yawned, and turned one final time, repeating the whole thing in Latin, even more dependent on his piece of paper. When he finished, he went back to the packet of salt and poured some onto his hand, then threw it at the Marquis.
Bastien recoiled, making a hhmph sound. "I did not come here to be as-salted," he said in an irritated tone. "Can we discuss the war now?"
“Prince Amir?” prompted Shapur.
“You are free of the demon,” the seven-year-old proclaimed, then broke out into a round of applause. The King and his ten-year-old brother also clapped. Nobody else bothered.
“Right, yes, the war,” King Shapur nodded. “General Jahangir, what are the reports?”
The aforementioned ten-year-old shuffled forward, embarrassed. He did not enjoy the stares and giggles that had accompanied his appointment to such a position. “Um, they’ve caught 3,000 cats and Leila’s started catching lizards with that guy who’s father started the war in Lauchenoiria.”
“No, the other report!” the King huffed.
Prince Jahangir cringed, knowing what the other report contained. “Um, there has been no thunder and lightning, or locusts,” he muttered.
“Excellent! We have prevented the apocalypse!” the King turned to the Marquis and beamed.
"That is a very good thing," the Marquis said soberly. "Bearing that in mind, Salad Land wishes to come to an amicable solution to this situation despite having endured so many animals dumped on us. What would your terms be to achieve a mutually agreeable solution?"
“Well, we’ve exorcised the demon,” the King said, ticking off the item on his fingers. “What we need are our lizards back. I don’t particularly care about the hawks. Also the release of prisoners of war - both human and lizard. And we want our ships back.”
"All we have wanted to do is return both lizards and ships to you, so that is acceptable if you can help us remove them all in a way that does not involve further animal incursions," the Marquis said pointedly.
“Well, I’ve been informed my daughter is already doing a good job. Here, Mina, show the Marquis the video! Don’t worry about the salt circle, you can cross it now,” the King said, ushering his other daughter over.
Princess Mina sighed and walked over to the Marquis, handing him a smartphone. On it was a viral video of Princess Leila next to a shopping trolley full of lizards in cages, plucking three lizards out of the sand and handing them to Yousef, who stuck them in the cages.
"Well, so she is," the Marquis said happily. "What about the cats? Do you want them all back as well or can we keep some? People do love cats after all."
“That’s up to the cats!” the King chuckled. “Ask them; they can stay if they wish or they can return. Shall we discuss this further over dinner? I can’t wait to try the salad you brought!”
"That sounds like an excellent idea. And I think you will enjoy the salad. My family invented the salad, you know. So we have a knack for it."
Three days later…
The Saladian Pride, the yacht of the Marquis, was bobbing happily off the coast of Zargothrax. It had been escorted by what was now the flagship of the Saladian navy, the ship that Yousef and the gang had brought to Salad Land. That ship had been christened the Saladian Defender, and it had been haphazardly armed. The two ships waited for the Thraxian authorities to contact them.
The Thraxian authorities, meanwhile, were wondering whether or not Salad Land intended to reply in kind, and thus sent animal control officers to the docks before contacting the Saladians and giving them instructions to bring their ships into the ports of Castle Zargo. A messenger was sent to the King’s laboratory to inform him of the visitors. After visiting the laboratory, the messenger then attempted to quit his job, was denied permission, and had a mental breakdown. But this was not known to the Saladian visitors.
With a few of his personal guards in tow, the Marquis walked onto the dock. He was dressed in his finest golden waistcoat, with a brilliant green cape trimmed in gold billowing in the wind behind him. A tricorn hat and a golden rapier completed the ensemble. He stopped at the end of the dock, taking the hat off with a sweeping gesture to the Thraxians waiting for him. "I am Bastien de Salad, Marquis of Salad Land. I am here to request a parley with the King."
The animal control officers were relieved that they weren’t about to be faced by an army of wolves or some other such thing. They stepped aside and allowed the royal liaison, who had also been sent to the docks, to guide the group to the royal palace. The city had been built when the Zargo family took over the entirety of the Thraxian peninsula. This, however, happened in 1738 - meaning the city was still rather old. The palace was, naturally, up the top of a large hill, which the Marquis and his entourage were led up on foot.
“Our apologies for the lack of a vehicle,” the liaison said, “there is only one road to the palace and it is currently closed.” What he didn’t say was that it was closed because the King had ordered it so; after several cats fell asleep in the middle of it.
"No reason to apologize. A brisk walk is just the thing sometimes. Have to stay fit, you know." The Marquis strode eagerly up the hill. His guards did their best to keep up; at least some of them did not share their master's passion for fitness.
The view of the city was at least good as they walked. They could see the old walls, and the growth of the settlement far beyond them. They could see the wealthy areas, with their large houses and non-native trees kept alive using hose pipes in the dry climate. Beyond those, they could also see the poor areas, with the houses half falling apart and crammed too close together. Closest was the shopping district, with foreign department stores standing to either side of a row of market stalls.
Upon arrival in the palace, they were led inside and taken to the throne room. Inside, King Shapur sat upon his throne, a cat in his lap. Eleven other cats sat beside the throne, nine of which were asleep and two of which were play-fighting. The King’s five other children were lined up at the side of the room, while Chief Advisor Hashemi stood to the side of the throne. A number of Thraxian nobles were also gathered in the room, watching the proceedings nervously.
The proceedings involved a man on his knees in front of the throne, sobbing. The King was glaring at the man, when he suddenly shouted “seven!” and two guards came, picked up the man and dragged him off, still sobbing. “Everyone else out!” the King then demanded, turning to face the Marquis. He stared, expectantly.
The Marquis gave a short nod of civil respect. "Greetings, your Majesty. I am Bastien de Salad, Marquis of Salad Land. I have come here to request a parley between us about our current…difficulties."
“Fascinating,” the King said, looking the Marquis up and down. “Did you bring a salad?” he asked.
"Actually, I did. It's customary when arriving somewhere as a guest in Salad Land." The Marquis gestured to one of his guards, who brought forth an ornate wooden box. When the lid was opened, it revealed that the wooden box was merely the covering for a fancy cooler. Inside was a large serving of salad, neatly wrapped and placed inside a nice bowl.
The King clapped his hands together in delight. “Why thank you! This has made my day much better! That man you saw earlier, he refused to get a cat. How can I protect Thraxians from the apocalypse if they keep refusing to follow God’s guidance? So, I sentenced him to a week in prison, a hundred rial fine, and to spend a month working at the cat shelter when he gets out. He then claimed he was a ‘dog person’, so I decided to multiply each part of his sentence by seven. Honestly!”
“The war, Your Majesty,” Hashemi murmured in his ear.
“Ah yes! Prince Amir, come here,” the King gestured to his youngest son. The seven-year-old practically skipped over, grinning. He was wearing purple robes covered in stars, with a badge that read ROYAL WIZARD, PRINCE AMIR. At least, if you could read Persian. “Where’s your hat?” the King demanded in Persian.
“Sorry father, it blew away in the wind,” Prince Amir said in Persian, hanging his head. His English still required a lot of work. “It was too big for me.”
“Never mind now,” the King said, then switched back to English. “Tell me, Marquis, have you ever summoned a demon?”
"No, never. I hear that they're awful on the furniture and that they pee everywhere," Bastien replied in a deadpan voice. What kind of a question is that?
“Ah, it must have been someone else then,” Shapur sighed. “That’s unfortunate. I’ll have to find the summoner separately once we exorcise it.”
"Exorcise…what? Or who?" The Marquis was beginning to have a bad feeling about this.
“The demon that’s possessing you,” Shapur replied. “That is the only logical explanation. You see, when I was in the hospital, I communed with God. He told me that there would be an apocalypse soon; that it would be started by a demon in disguise, who would try to destroy the servants of good. He told me that He needed me to get cats for all those who should be saved. That only with the company of cats would salvation be possible. You tried to curse my cats. Therefore, you must be possessed by a demon.”
"Unless you mean the awful case of upset stomach that I had after the last time I ate at Mickey Knife's, I can assure you that nothing has possessed me recently. And I am not sure about being exorcised."
“My Royal Wizard shall perform the exorcism,” the King said calmly. “Don’t worry, Marquis, you will feel much better once the foul demon is out of your body. Amir?”
The 7-year-old stepped behind the throne, lifting up a box that seemed almost as large as him. He waddled with the box to stand next to the Marquis and then pulled out a bag of salt. He began to pour it in a circle around the Marquis.
I wish there was a drink with that salt, because I could sure use one now, the Marquis thought to himself. He shrugged and decided to let the kid finish whatever he was playing at.
After Amir had finished the salt circle, he went back to the box, and brought out a large fake magic wand, alongside a packet of white face masks. He went around the room, handing out face masks to his siblings, to his father, and to all the guards stationed in the room. He even offered some to the Saladians accompanying the Marquis.
After looking at the Marquis and getting a nod, the Saladians collectively shrugged and put on the masks.
Once everyone was masked up, Amir pulled out the reason the box was so large. He placed wooden carvings of planets around the circle, careful not to touch the salt. He had to consult a piece of paper while doing so, in order to get them in the right order. Once he was finished, he took his wand and walked clockwise around the circle, tapping the wand to each wooden planet and chanting in Persian. Once he was finished, he turned and repeated the same chant, this time in Arabic. He turned a third time and repeated it in English, reading off his piece of paper.
“On Neptune I call to separate the soul from the demon. On Uranus I call to protect the soul from the demon. On Saturn I call to bind the demon. On Jupiter I call to strengthen the soul against the demon. On Mars I call to pull the demon from the body. On Earth I call to protect the body from the demon. On Venus I call to shatter the tie of the demon to the body. On Mercury I call to banish the demon to Hell!”
Then the prince yawned, and turned one final time, repeating the whole thing in Latin, even more dependent on his piece of paper. When he finished, he went back to the packet of salt and poured some onto his hand, then threw it at the Marquis.
Bastien recoiled, making a hhmph sound. "I did not come here to be as-salted," he said in an irritated tone. "Can we discuss the war now?"
“Prince Amir?” prompted Shapur.
“You are free of the demon,” the seven-year-old proclaimed, then broke out into a round of applause. The King and his ten-year-old brother also clapped. Nobody else bothered.
“Right, yes, the war,” King Shapur nodded. “General Jahangir, what are the reports?”
The aforementioned ten-year-old shuffled forward, embarrassed. He did not enjoy the stares and giggles that had accompanied his appointment to such a position. “Um, they’ve caught 3,000 cats and Leila’s started catching lizards with that guy who’s father started the war in Lauchenoiria.”
“No, the other report!” the King huffed.
Prince Jahangir cringed, knowing what the other report contained. “Um, there has been no thunder and lightning, or locusts,” he muttered.
“Excellent! We have prevented the apocalypse!” the King turned to the Marquis and beamed.
"That is a very good thing," the Marquis said soberly. "Bearing that in mind, Salad Land wishes to come to an amicable solution to this situation despite having endured so many animals dumped on us. What would your terms be to achieve a mutually agreeable solution?"
“Well, we’ve exorcised the demon,” the King said, ticking off the item on his fingers. “What we need are our lizards back. I don’t particularly care about the hawks. Also the release of prisoners of war - both human and lizard. And we want our ships back.”
"All we have wanted to do is return both lizards and ships to you, so that is acceptable if you can help us remove them all in a way that does not involve further animal incursions," the Marquis said pointedly.
“Well, I’ve been informed my daughter is already doing a good job. Here, Mina, show the Marquis the video! Don’t worry about the salt circle, you can cross it now,” the King said, ushering his other daughter over.
Princess Mina sighed and walked over to the Marquis, handing him a smartphone. On it was a viral video of Princess Leila next to a shopping trolley full of lizards in cages, plucking three lizards out of the sand and handing them to Yousef, who stuck them in the cages.
"Well, so she is," the Marquis said happily. "What about the cats? Do you want them all back as well or can we keep some? People do love cats after all."
“That’s up to the cats!” the King chuckled. “Ask them; they can stay if they wish or they can return. Shall we discuss this further over dinner? I can’t wait to try the salad you brought!”
"That sounds like an excellent idea. And I think you will enjoy the salad. My family invented the salad, you know. So we have a knack for it."
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