The Queen's Sentry

 




A crowd of insurrectionists with red banners came up the cobbled road. Some had rusty swords, but most had farm implements or kitchen knives.

They stopped a stone's throw from the queen's sentries at the south gate.

The lead insurrectionist stepped forward. He had teeth the color of river mud. He needed a bath a month ago. "We are twenty, and you are four. Give way, for we mean to enter the castle."

The sentries did not move or show any reaction. Except one.

One guard in a leather beret stepped forward, stopping within a spear-thrust of Brown Teeth. "Hello my fine fellow. I can see that you are distressed. Was it from missing a night in your sister's bed?"

He roared with laughter, and a few of Brown Teeth's fellows twittered at the barb. The other guards might as well have been statues.

Brown Teeth blinked in surprise, his face reddening. "We have the advantage. Step aside."

The sentry said, "You would do well to go home. You see, we four are in a foul mood. We went to visit your mother last night, and she was busy pleasuring a dog."

The guard laughed even louder as he drew his sword. Then his voice became a wolf's growl. "So you should move along unless you need a new hole in your guts."

"You can't kill us all," Brown Teeth said nervously as he held up his own short sword. He showed no expertise with the ill-kempt blade.

"Maybe not. But I can kill you," the sentry said, raising his sword.

Once Brown Teeth stepped back, it was over. "Let's go, Donnie," one of the insurrectionists said. "You need another beer."




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