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The Disappearance Of Princess Cordelia
- Thread starter Wragg
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View attachment 194637 Sonny does know his mum well
Yep. Look at that. Not a grey hair in sight.
What a woman!
It was a feature of Wragg’s existence that he was on first-name terms with every pub landlord in Aestria, from the grandest country inn down to the sleaziest city tavern. Landlords knew things, and they were very useful people for journalists to know.
The landlord of the ‘Boar’ in South Hagen had only taken over the pub a year or so ago, but Wragg had to say that he’d really performed magic in the place. The beer had gone from ‘mediocre’ to ‘top class’, and the food had gone from ‘indifferent’ to ‘delicious.’
So while Elise was being taken up to her room by Eulalia to begin her recovery, Wragg made a bee-line for the Bar and hailed the landlord.
“Quentin! Great to see you! How’s business?”
“I suspect it’s about to look up, now you’re here, Wragg, you old devil! What’ll you have?”
“Pint of Happy Hagen, then please! What’s on the menu? I could eat a horse!”
“Horse we don’t have, but I can recommend the steak and ale pie?”
“Sound’s delicious! Add potatoes, gravy, and vegetables and you’ve got yourself a customer.”
Quentin produced Wragg’s pint, then took his meal order through to the kitchen. He was only gone for a moment.
“That’ll be ready in a few minutes. So, what brings you to South Hagen? Dare I ask?”
Wragg remembered Eulalia’s warning, and decided to be circumspect. “Why, your food and beer, of course!”
“Pull the other one, Wragg. Since when were you into tourism?”
OK then, thought Wragg. Half truth.
“Between you and me, Quentin, old chap, there’s a girl gone missing from Heidraen. Young, pretty, blonde – the kind that makes for good press, you know. About eighteen. I don’t suppose you’ve seen her?”
“Sounds like I’d remember her if I had. When did she disappear?”
“Sometime within the last couple of days,” Wragg said,vaguely. “A witness says he saw her coming this way.”
“Hmmm. I’ll keep an eye open. How did the chubby girl get injured?”
“Attacked by a bull, she was. Stupid bint. ‘Beware of the Bull’, the sign said.” Wragg rolled his eyes. “If Eulalia and I….”
“Eulalia?” interrupted the other. “The Eulalia? High Priestess of the Silver River?”
“Er, yes.” replied Wragg, feeling that he’d put a foot wrong.
“Is she here, then?”
“She’s upstairs with…no, here she comes now….”
Wragg’s mouth remained open, in sheer astonishment. Eulalia saw the landlord, and shrieked like a schoolgirl meeting her idol. She flew across the room, vaulted the bar, and hurled herself into his arms. Her mouth locked over his, and the two of them clinched until Wragg cleared his throat in embarrassment.
By now Eulalia was sobbing, stroking his hair, “Oh Paul, Paul, I thought I’d never see you again, and I was just thinking, if only Merlin were here, everything would be all right, then I walked in here, and here you are! Oh my love, my love, how are you? I don’t suppose we have time to nip upstairs for a quick shag?”
Wragg’s head was spinning. Paul? Merlin? What the blazes was she going on about?
The landlord called out “Sandra!” and one of the bar staff girls appeared. “Yes, sir?”
“Could you keep an eye on the bar for a bit? I need to pop out with this lady for an, erm, urgent meeting. There’s only Wragg here at the moment – he won’t give you any trouble.”
“Very good, sir!”
And the two of them went off for their ‘meeting’, leaving Wragg staring, confused, into his pint.
Eventually he said, “Sandra?”
Yes, Mr Wragg?” she asked, placing his dinner in front of him.
“What is the landlord’s name?”
“It’s written over the door, Mr Wragg. ‘Quentin Paul, licenced to sell beers, wines, and spirits’. But we all call him ‘Quiet Paul’.
Sounds of the ‘meeting’ upstairs were quite distinctively audible downstairs. “Neither of them are being very quiet at the moment,” quipped Wragg, as he trenched into his pie.
The landlord of the ‘Boar’ in South Hagen had only taken over the pub a year or so ago, but Wragg had to say that he’d really performed magic in the place. The beer had gone from ‘mediocre’ to ‘top class’, and the food had gone from ‘indifferent’ to ‘delicious.’
So while Elise was being taken up to her room by Eulalia to begin her recovery, Wragg made a bee-line for the Bar and hailed the landlord.
“Quentin! Great to see you! How’s business?”
“I suspect it’s about to look up, now you’re here, Wragg, you old devil! What’ll you have?”
“Pint of Happy Hagen, then please! What’s on the menu? I could eat a horse!”
“Horse we don’t have, but I can recommend the steak and ale pie?”
“Sound’s delicious! Add potatoes, gravy, and vegetables and you’ve got yourself a customer.”
Quentin produced Wragg’s pint, then took his meal order through to the kitchen. He was only gone for a moment.
“That’ll be ready in a few minutes. So, what brings you to South Hagen? Dare I ask?”
Wragg remembered Eulalia’s warning, and decided to be circumspect. “Why, your food and beer, of course!”
“Pull the other one, Wragg. Since when were you into tourism?”
OK then, thought Wragg. Half truth.
“Between you and me, Quentin, old chap, there’s a girl gone missing from Heidraen. Young, pretty, blonde – the kind that makes for good press, you know. About eighteen. I don’t suppose you’ve seen her?”
“Sounds like I’d remember her if I had. When did she disappear?”
“Sometime within the last couple of days,” Wragg said,vaguely. “A witness says he saw her coming this way.”
“Hmmm. I’ll keep an eye open. How did the chubby girl get injured?”
“Attacked by a bull, she was. Stupid bint. ‘Beware of the Bull’, the sign said.” Wragg rolled his eyes. “If Eulalia and I….”
“Eulalia?” interrupted the other. “The Eulalia? High Priestess of the Silver River?”
“Er, yes.” replied Wragg, feeling that he’d put a foot wrong.
“Is she here, then?”
“She’s upstairs with…no, here she comes now….”
Wragg’s mouth remained open, in sheer astonishment. Eulalia saw the landlord, and shrieked like a schoolgirl meeting her idol. She flew across the room, vaulted the bar, and hurled herself into his arms. Her mouth locked over his, and the two of them clinched until Wragg cleared his throat in embarrassment.
By now Eulalia was sobbing, stroking his hair, “Oh Paul, Paul, I thought I’d never see you again, and I was just thinking, if only Merlin were here, everything would be all right, then I walked in here, and here you are! Oh my love, my love, how are you? I don’t suppose we have time to nip upstairs for a quick shag?”
Wragg’s head was spinning. Paul? Merlin? What the blazes was she going on about?
The landlord called out “Sandra!” and one of the bar staff girls appeared. “Yes, sir?”
“Could you keep an eye on the bar for a bit? I need to pop out with this lady for an, erm, urgent meeting. There’s only Wragg here at the moment – he won’t give you any trouble.”
“Very good, sir!”
And the two of them went off for their ‘meeting’, leaving Wragg staring, confused, into his pint.
Eventually he said, “Sandra?”
Yes, Mr Wragg?” she asked, placing his dinner in front of him.
“What is the landlord’s name?”
“It’s written over the door, Mr Wragg. ‘Quentin Paul, licenced to sell beers, wines, and spirits’. But we all call him ‘Quiet Paul’.
Sounds of the ‘meeting’ upstairs were quite distinctively audible downstairs. “Neither of them are being very quiet at the moment,” quipped Wragg, as he trenched into his pie.
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Pp wonders whether this is being performed "a capella" and without the need of any instrumental accompaniment.well as you know, Paul and I share a taste for renaissance music, we're doubtless singing a madrigal!
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Does that make the tuning fork the keyHe has a novel use for his tuning fork, and a striking way of beating time...
rb1956
Lone Wolf
i belive you are right...now we know why!!!!
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Getting the tuning fork's vibration pattern just right......and touching just the right receptors..... depending on the young lady's character and predilections, Pp might select forks in different keys.....perhaps, for Eulalia, the darkness of Em then the lift of the major E.........much better than anything Hitachi can produce.
Quiet Paul
Tribune
well as you know, Paul and I share a taste for renaissance music, we're doubtless singing a madrigal!
Singing a madrigal? I'm not wasting my time with anything like that with Eul around, shared musical interest or not. There are much more important things to be getting on with. Now hold still Eul, please, while I get this tuning fork in the right position, and if you must sing, keep,with the beat, please.He has a novel use for his tuning fork, and a striking way of beating time...
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Ah, these touching romantic interludes
Say what you like about QP, he knows how to give a girl a good time
Quiet Paul
Tribune
Thank heavens no-one has mentioned the instrument I play. On here there's no knowing what might happen.Ah, these touching romantic interludes
Say what you like about QP, he knows how to give a girl a good time
Oh, OK, keyboard instrument (plus one for the feet), five letters, beginning with 'O'
Prince Pilus stood with his father in the latter’s study in Heidraen Castle. Spread out on the table before them was a large map of Aestria.
“It may not be the biggest country in the world, but it’ll take some searching,” remarked Pilus. “That’s assuming he’s still in the country with her.” Oddly, he hadn’t been surprised when his father had admitted that all he ‘knew’ has been told to him by Siss, who’d received it by means of some sort of hocus-pocus with Eulalia. But Pilus had a good deal of respect for the psychic power of both Barbaria and Siss. Certainly Barbaria had been uncannily able to know what he was up to when he’d got into scrapes as a boy….
Shevak stroked his beard. “Eulalia said he headed north, but what’s north from Hagen?”
Pilus didn’t need to look at the map, he knew his geography. “Thick, impenetrable forest, Alfheim, maybe, but Erin and her people have the forest covered, he wouldn’t dare go there…then you hit the Northern Mountains. There are some old castles up there, impossible to attack with an army…..”
“Ohhhhhh….Fuck it, Pilus! What’s that bastard doing to Cordy? I can’t sit here on my arse, you know! Maybe we should have done as you suggested, and chased off with the women.”
“No, you were right. He’s trying to panic us. He AAAAAAAAAARGH!!!”
Pilus doubled over in pain. Shevak’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “What the hell….”
Pilus was writhing on the floor. “NO! NO! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE! Don’t hurt me! What have I ever done to you?”
“I’m not doing anything to you!” Shevak was confused, but he had sense enough to go to the door and yell for a servant.
“My Father,” said Pilus, “is King of Aestria! He will find you, Vulcan, and he will kill you!”
Shevak whirled around. He was used to Barbaria’s nuttiness, but had his son gone mad too? What was this madness?
Hondoboot, the court physician, had heard the concern in Shevak’s voice, and had arrived on the double.
Pilus was arching his back, and screaming. Shevak was beside himself. “Hondoboot, for God’s sake, do something!”
Hondoboot sized up the situation, thought for a second, then applied a considered remedy based on all his years of experience.
The study echoed to the sound of Hondoboot’s hand connecting with Pilus’ face. It worked. Pilus stopped screaming, and looked up in confusion. “Wha…wha..what?”
“I think it was some kind of a fit,” offered Hondoboot.
“I think it was more than that,” said Shevak, beginning to see the light. “I think there’s some kind of mental link between Pilus and Cordelia.”
“Dad, I’m sorry,” said Pilus, “You’re right. There’s no doubt. Cordelia is being tortured by Vulcan, and at this very moment!”
“It may not be the biggest country in the world, but it’ll take some searching,” remarked Pilus. “That’s assuming he’s still in the country with her.” Oddly, he hadn’t been surprised when his father had admitted that all he ‘knew’ has been told to him by Siss, who’d received it by means of some sort of hocus-pocus with Eulalia. But Pilus had a good deal of respect for the psychic power of both Barbaria and Siss. Certainly Barbaria had been uncannily able to know what he was up to when he’d got into scrapes as a boy….
Shevak stroked his beard. “Eulalia said he headed north, but what’s north from Hagen?”
Pilus didn’t need to look at the map, he knew his geography. “Thick, impenetrable forest, Alfheim, maybe, but Erin and her people have the forest covered, he wouldn’t dare go there…then you hit the Northern Mountains. There are some old castles up there, impossible to attack with an army…..”
“Ohhhhhh….Fuck it, Pilus! What’s that bastard doing to Cordy? I can’t sit here on my arse, you know! Maybe we should have done as you suggested, and chased off with the women.”
“No, you were right. He’s trying to panic us. He AAAAAAAAAARGH!!!”
Pilus doubled over in pain. Shevak’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “What the hell….”
Pilus was writhing on the floor. “NO! NO! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE! Don’t hurt me! What have I ever done to you?”
“I’m not doing anything to you!” Shevak was confused, but he had sense enough to go to the door and yell for a servant.
“My Father,” said Pilus, “is King of Aestria! He will find you, Vulcan, and he will kill you!”
Shevak whirled around. He was used to Barbaria’s nuttiness, but had his son gone mad too? What was this madness?
Hondoboot, the court physician, had heard the concern in Shevak’s voice, and had arrived on the double.
Pilus was arching his back, and screaming. Shevak was beside himself. “Hondoboot, for God’s sake, do something!”
Hondoboot sized up the situation, thought for a second, then applied a considered remedy based on all his years of experience.
The study echoed to the sound of Hondoboot’s hand connecting with Pilus’ face. It worked. Pilus stopped screaming, and looked up in confusion. “Wha…wha..what?”
“I think it was some kind of a fit,” offered Hondoboot.
“I think it was more than that,” said Shevak, beginning to see the light. “I think there’s some kind of mental link between Pilus and Cordelia.”
“Dad, I’m sorry,” said Pilus, “You’re right. There’s no doubt. Cordelia is being tortured by Vulcan, and at this very moment!”
And that, gentle reader, is the end of part 1 of 'The disappearance of Princess Cordelia'
Will Vulcan torture poor Cordelia to death before help arrives?
Will he succeed in getting his hands on Barbaria, Siss, Roxie, Blaire, and Eulalia? And maybe Erin into the bargain?
What can Shevak do? What use is Pilus, if he's going to throw a fit every time Vulcan lays a finger on Cordelia?
What schemes might Merlin have up his sleeve (strike that, he's not wearing any sleeves while Eulalia's playing his organ)
How much beer can Wragg sink while he has the opportunity?
Part two will answer these questions, and more, but alas, not for a couple of weeks, as your author is off on his travels...
Sorry
Will Vulcan torture poor Cordelia to death before help arrives?
Will he succeed in getting his hands on Barbaria, Siss, Roxie, Blaire, and Eulalia? And maybe Erin into the bargain?
What can Shevak do? What use is Pilus, if he's going to throw a fit every time Vulcan lays a finger on Cordelia?
What schemes might Merlin have up his sleeve (strike that, he's not wearing any sleeves while Eulalia's playing his organ
)How much beer can Wragg sink while he has the opportunity?
Part two will answer these questions, and more, but alas, not for a couple of weeks, as your author is off on his travels...
Sorry
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Pp isn't so comfortable with this telepathic...or is it telepathetic....link. He is most discomforted by the young Prince's reaction to vulcan's ministrations.
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Bon voyage Wragg. Just go easy on the beef and ale pies and pints of 'best'.And that, gentle reader, is the end of part 1 of 'The disappearance of Princess Cordelia'
Will Vulcan torture poor Cordelia to death before help arrives?
Will he succeed in getting his hands on Barbaria, Siss, Roxie, Blaire, and Eulalia? And maybe Erin into the bargain?
What can Shevak do? What use is Pilus, if he's going to throw a fit every time Vulcan lays a finger on Cordelia?
What schemes might Merlin have up his sleeve (strike that, he's not wearing any sleeves while Eulalia's playing his organ
How much beer can Wragg sink while he has the opportunity?
Part two will answer these questions, and more, but alas, not for a couple of weeks, as your author is off on his travels...
Sorry
Wragg will be more at risk from chocolate, waffles and trappist ale 
oooh, I do hope so!
