11.3.0

Dirk listened silently to his advisors reports on the situation in occupied Tronin. He firmly controlled the entire kingdom. The territory in his possession had increased by nearly a third since its acquisition. A provisional administrative government had been set up in the annexed lands to aid in their smooth incorporation into the North. Geoffrey spent a great deal of time there now, overseeing it for his elder brother. The young prince was back at Castle Blackpool now, but had managed to disappear before the meeting started in order to avoid it.

As the meeting turned to issues of local governance, Dirk struggled to maintain his concentration. It was excruciatingly boring. He heard a commotion out in the courtyard. Zyrdicia's laughter resonated in through the windows. In droning tones, the advisors continued to relate details of capital recovered as war reparations. The sums of kolnas in question were trivial compared to the new mine revenue. The topic then switched to agricultural production in the conquered lands. That, too, no longer mattered given the flood of food flowing out of Dagonia.

Dirk listened with half an ear about the tonnage of carpaccas a particular county was expected to produce as he stood up to look out the window, wondering what trouble she was causing. The activity in the courtyard disrupted what little attention he had been paying to his advisors.

From the window he could see that a section of the inner courtyard had been cordoned off to prevent traffic through it. Purple light illuminated the space. A group of palace guards appeared to have just finished digging numerous large pits in it. They now placed prisoners from the dungeon into each of the pits and refilled them with dirt so that only the captives' head remained above the ground. The prince frowned, straining to see what they were doing. He alone had authority to authorize removal of dungeon prisoners.

Zyrdicia burst unexpectedly into the council chamber a moment later. Biting back a giggle, she winked at his advisors, "Sorry to interrupt, gentleman, but I'm afraid Prince Blackpool's presence is urgently needed in the courtyard."

They all gestured grandly in a tumult of enthusiastic assent. Choruses of "Certainly, my lady!" and "But of course!" blended with "Lovely to see you again, Baroness!" and "What a delightful surprise!"

Dirk glared reproachfully, but he was truly relieved to be delivered from the boredom. He started to demand an explanation for the circus in the courtyard, but she cheerfully interrupted, "You'll see when we get down there! Lawn croquet. Though you lack a lawn. We had to improvise. Come on!" She smiled and tugged playfully at his sleeve.

"What is this you are babbling about?" he asked, reluctantly allowing her coax him away from the vapid meeting.

"A game, of course. A new one, that is."

"You cannot simply burst into important state meetings and pull me away to play foolish games!" he said, feigning irritation as he walked with her.

"Of course I can. I just did."

"I have important responsibilities."

"Hm. Like being bored by ugly, old men. Pay people to be bored for you! That's what I do. There are too many pointless ways to waste time that I prefer to enjoy instead." She glanced at him in a way that suggested that he himself was perhaps one of those. She laughed and added, "Besides, you weren't even listening to them. You were thinking about me the whole time, anyway."

"You confuse your own fantasy with my reality," he mocked.

"And now you are pretending to be annoyed when in fact we both know that you are glad to be out of there. The only time you ever have fun is when I'm around to orchestrate it!" Her eyes twinkled merrily as she glanced at him. "Your entire life can be divided into tedium before you knew me, and enjoyment after I arrived."

"Sometimes vain individuals suffer from delusions of grandeur," he chided. "In your case, it seems to have progressed to delusions of godliness."

"If it's a delusion, then your whole country is affected."

"Mass hallucinations are common when peasants are over-worked and starved," he noted, winking at her.

11.3.1

The prisoners from the castle's dungeon had been buried in the pits so that only their necks and heads remained above the ground. Their heads were placed together in pairs, with a small space in between them.

"Wickets," Zyrdicia explained matter-of-factly.

Charles and Anthony were already embroiled in a game with Geoffrey. Several cases of excellent Lyrian champagne had appeared some time ago, and the three men were already well into it. Zyrdicia's servants wore matching outfits of crisp white peddle pushers, starched white shirts and broad, outlandish hats. Charles was coaching Geoffrey on proper technique to thwack a large, leaden ball with a mallet. He explained that in order to be stylish, one had to be able to hold one's drink in one hand, and swing the mallet with the other. Two-handed swinging was not permitted. Style was everything.

When the young prince struck the ball, Anthony clapped and exclaimed in strange accent, "Jolly good show, my prince!"

"Oh, Robin Leach! Tell me, where are we filming this week?" Charles inquired, mimicking Anthony's accent.

"This week we discover the posh world of lawn croquet in the exotic land of Aparans. It's champagne dreams and caviar wishes as these beautiful aristocrats waste away their evenings with me as a commentator," Anthony answered.

Charles giggled in response.

Anthony continued, "Ah, and look, there comes beautiful Zyrdicia, famous socialite known for her fabulous wardrobe. And accompanying her we see dapper Prince Dirk Blackpool."

"If he asks to interview you, say 'no.' They've both been acting weird all evening," Geoffrey warned his brother as he entered the courtyard.

"Then nothing has changed," Dirk smirked. "Geoffrey, your military report was sorely missed during the Tronin meeting."

"Busted!" Anthony whispered behind Geoffrey.

"Oops," Geoff cringed, ignoring the commentary behind him. He tried to play it off, explaining to Dirk, "I figured since we already talked about it this morning--"

"Prince Geoffrey, old chap, I do say that it is your turn!" Charles announced loudly, interrupting the exchange solely for the purpose of extricating Geoffrey from trouble. It was not Geoff's turn at all. Charles and Anthony tugged the younger prince back to the game, refusing to let the conversation continue.

When they had turned back to the croquet field, Zyrdicia looked at Dirk with an expression that suggested she was about to erupt in another fit of laugher. She whispered, "You couldn't care less about that report. You just like to make him flinch, for the sport of it."

"Naturally," he smiled.

"Such a loving family. You'll like this game. Trust me!" She proceeded to explain its concept while retrieving a bottle of the Lyrian champagne from the case and a pair of glasses from the tray that stood nearby. Dirk watched the prisoners yell out in fear as the brightly colored, heavy orbs rolled at eye-level toward their immobilized heads. He chuckled when Geoffrey argued with Charles about a rule that permitted knocking an opponent's ball away. The game was vicious and rather senseless, like most things that amused her.

"More entertaining than ugly, old men?" Zyrdicia asked, knowing with certainty that it was.

"Indeed."

"Speaking of ugly, old men..." she whispered, as Vector appeared magically.

"Ah, Vector. Your arrival is well-timed, as always," the prince greeted.

Vector looked at them suspiciously. He sensed that he was the butt of a private joke but could not imagine what they found so humorous. Of late they often seemed involved in secret discourse to which no one else was privy. It tended to rankle the Wizard. He was well aware that she had disclosed to his master the secret of telepathy and feared how much more magic she might have revealed. "Good evening," Vector replied testily.

The Wizard's spirits improved when he saw the game course. He had experienced Lyr's decadent garden parties and recognized the game immediately. Despite the fact that he found her recent friendship with the prince profoundly annoying, he had to concede that he appreciated the civilizing influence of Lyrian culture. "Ah, lawn croquet. How lovely!"

11.3.2

"Was that noise a giggle?" Zyrdicia whispered, mesmerized by the oddity of it.

Dirk frowned in befuddlement, "I really don't know. I suppose it could have been." They both stared at Vector as he crouched clumsily over the mallet and drove the ball directly into the head of one of the buried prisoners. He made the strange, chittering noise again.

"His shoulders moved. He's giggling!" Zyrdicia observed. "I'm going to ask him!"

"No! Shh!" he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist to prevent her from going to interrupt Vector. "Perhaps he'll do it again!"

Anthony marched up to Vector and snapped his fingers loudly in a swishing gesture. He announced cattily, "OK, grandpa, that was your turn. You can't just keep hitting the ball and making weird noises."

Vector, unsteady on his feet, turned and faced Anthony. He wiggled his finger at the mallet in Zyrdicia's servant's hand, intending to turn it into a snake or something equally frightening. He transformed it into an enormous daisy instead.

Anthony promptly bopped the drunk Wizard over the head with the giant flower. The strange bloom emitted a cloud of glitter on impact.

The stunned look on Vector's glitter-streaked face elicited peels of laughter from everyone present. Vector stared at the finger on his hand with which he had worked the spell, baffled by the result of the magic.

"Damn, with this if I just had wings, I could be a fairy!" Anthony giggled, twirling the magic flower in the air.

"You already are, honey," Charles reminded him, before himself being whacked by the three-foot blossom. "Tramp!" he muttered indignantly to Anthony. "Vector, give me one too!"

Vector ignored him and shuffled toward a second case of champagne looking for a fresh bottle. They had all been drinking and laughing for hours as they enjoyed the new game. Servants passing through stared in wonder at the shocking gaiety. It was entirely out of place in the castle. The "wickets" were now almost unrecognizable. It had proven impossible to impress upon either Dirk or Vector that the point was to shoot the ball between the heads, not into or through them. As they drank, their alleged aim had become impossibly bad.

Anthony approached Portia with the super-flower. She sneered, "If you touch me with that, I will feed it to you!"

Charles commented saucily, "Girlfriend, this is the first time he's ever heard that threat from a woman." He glanced at Anthony, cocking his head. His eyes widened as he added, "Or for anything so large."

Anthony whirled around in a dramatic pirouette and moved the flower in a swishing motion. The flower smacked both of them in a single stroke, showering them in glitter. Portia reached for the offending implement but Anthony darted away nimbly. Vector might be unsteady on his feet when he drank, but Anthony was in fine form. He and his friends drank heavily and often at the Cauldron. It took more than a little bubbly to undo his coordination.

The Wizard was in the middle of taking a long swig from a bottle when the flower caught him on the back of the head. Champagne sputtered out his mouth and down his clothes, causing more laughter at his expense.

Portia glared at Cai expectantly.

"Oh, don't look at me!" he shook his head. "I am not involved."

She frowned, "What happened to all the crap about knighthood and chivalry? I was viciously attacked-"

"With an enchanted flower!" Cai interrupted, still laughing at Anthony. He lifted Portia's hand gallantly and his eyes widened ironically, "Do you require medical attention, my lady?"

"And you think it's funny."

Cai nodded emphatically. "But not as funny as that," he whispered, pointing to the champagne-soaked Wizard. He brushed some of the glitter off her face then pulled Portia into his arms, kissing her cheek affectionately. Grinning he added, "And in the North chivalry is only about getting a damsel in distress out of trouble in order have one's way with her. Since getting my way with you is not ever an issue, I had no duty to intervene. Ask either of the princes Blackpool- I'm certain they would confirm my interpretation of the Code."

"You are such a damned liar. I will ask them!" Portia exclaimed, looking around for Geoffrey. Some time ago, he had settled into a morose, drunken stupor, sitting on the ground with his back against a wall. It was as though no one in the castle could handle liquor. Asking him would be pointless. He would only babble something incoherent about Princess Ariel. Portia scanned the courtyard for the elder Blackpool and realized suddenly why he and Zyrdicia had been so quiet during the last part of the flower episode.

Cai's eyes widened as he followed her gaze. "Gods, he's never been this public--"

"Anthony, NO!" Portia yelled as the flower fiend prepared to bop the distracted, amorous couple with the glitter-filled daisy in a shadowy corner of the courtyard. Anthony paused and looked at her, hesitating.

"Bad idea. Very, very bad idea," Cai warned him, shaking his head urgently. He was certain it would mean Anthony's death.

"Baby, the glitter will piss 'Dicia off. She hates sparkles!" Charles reminded. "I put them in her hair once, and I thought I would never hear the end of it."

Anthony bit his lower lip as he looked from the his intended target to the flower, obviously sorely tempted. They would make such easy victims. Fate resolved the question for him when they chose that moment to disentangle themselves from one another long enough to go inside. They did not even notice Anthony as they passed by. Dirk did, however, see his Wizard covered in champagne and glitter. He shot him a strange look but otherwise ignored him. The inebriated prince was obviously preoccupied with other thoughts.

"This adolescent-hormonal thing is a little weird," Portia commented, watching them as they left.

Cai nodded in agreement. It was totally unlike the cold, calculating prince. Portia had informed Cai about the Edict, and he found the situation bizarre. He muttered, "If they could just get it out of their systems, they would both calm down."

Portia shook her head, "She's not interested. Calm bores her. She secretly likes the Edict, I think. By the way, she won the last croquet game, didn't she?"

"I think so. Did you hear what that bet between them was about?"

Portia shook her head, "I was just going to ask you the same question. He didn't seem particularly upset about losing though." She looked up and met Cai's gaze and they both burst out laughing. Maintaining the status quo was very much in both of their interests. They had more free time to pursue personal interests when their respective bosses were distracted with each other. It was almost like a vacation for both of them. Taking advantage of it, they excused themselves and went to the seneschal's quarters.

"Come on, Queen Maab," Charles prodded. "Enough flower power for one night.' Anthony nodded and smiled, taking Charles' outstretched hand in one of his own, and twirling his new toy in the air with the other as they departed.

Vector stood alone in the courtyard then. He looked around, surprised by the sudden quiet. Geoffrey snored loudly. The Wizard looked at the bottle in his hand then took a long swig from it. He belched loudly and slumped onto a bench. Sometimes it was very hard being several centuries old and solitary. Hiccuping, he wondered suddenly what Bethel was doing