Read Online A Tale Without a Name by Penelope S. Delta - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Penelope S. Delta
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their midst.”
“But I am the troops, I am the army, my lord,” said the one-legged man again.
“Is he insane, or insolent?” asked the King, turning to the garrison commander, who still sat exactly where he had landed, his feet sockless inside his worn slippers. Immobile, the old man replied as though in a daze:
“He is neither insane nor insolent. He is the troops; he is the army.”
“Where is the royal guard? Where are the cavalry and the lancers?” enquired the Prince quietly, thinking that perhaps the garrison commander had been struck dumb with fright.
But the old man stretched out his hand and pointed to the one-legged man.
“
There
is the guard,
there
is the army too,” he replied. “I have no other troops, my lords. You may go up to the dormitories, if you wish, and see for yourselves whether I am lying or not.”
And because the King and the Prince remained still, unwilling to believe, the old man continued:
“You remember the old times, my good lords. Gone are those times, nor will they ever return again.”
Just then, Cartwheeler finally arrived, flushed red and sweating, hot from running.
The King pointed to the old garrison commander, who was still sitting on the ground, and with one hand made a sign to indicate that the man was not entirely right in the head.
“He is not all there,” he said in a hushed tone.
“He is all there, my lord,” replied the Lord Chamberlain, “and he is telling you the truth. There are no troops—”
“What is all this nonsense, for heaven’s sake!” interrupted the King, who was beginning to become angry once again. “Let him summon the officers and I shall show you then where my army is.”
And turning to the old man:
“Fetch at once General… General… what’s his name? Never mind the name,” he screamed, enraged.
“There is no general here, my lord,” replied the garrison commander, trembling and shaking.
“Well, then, call the Commander of the Corps!”
“There is no Commander of the Corps!”
“Then call whomever you like, but call someone!” yelled the King, quite beside himself.
“We are all of us here, my lord!” said the old man, with a most pitiful expression on his face.
“But then the army…”
“There is no army any longer, long gone is the army, finished—you seek it in vain, my lord! There are just the two of us, my cook and myself!”
The King seized his head with both hands.
“Is it I who am going mad? Perhaps I do not understand?… You talk utter nonsense!” he burst out angrily again. “I know well that I have an army, for I pay for it every year…”
And, changing his tone:
“In fact, what do I pay for it exactly?” he asked the Lord Chamberlain.
“I do not know, my lord. You managed such accounts with the High Chancellor. I never laid eyes on them…”
“I pay… um… Well, I pay a great deal!” the King continued nervously. “And I also pay for my navy… well, an equal amount. Where is the navy? The soldiers must be on the ships! Where are the ships?”
No one knew.
With the corner of his mantle he wiped the perspiration that had formed strings of beads on his forehead.
“Let us go to the naval base,” he ordered.
And with his son he hastened to the river, while farther behind, far away, tumbling at every step, followed the miserable Lord Chamberlain.
They reached the river, which ran its course, tranquil and transparent, between the green wooded riverbanks where no house could be seen, no matter how far one strained one’s eye.
There were only two shabby old feluccas there, moored to the shore by a long rope, rocking away lazily on the silvery waters; a wide plank, nailed to the sides at each end, joined them together at the middle and held one next to the other.
Sprawled across the prow of one of the boats there slept a one-armed man, his mouth agape.
The King gazed up and down the river, yet he saw nothing but lush green grass, many trees, and some stones, fallen from
“But I am the troops, I am the army, my lord,” said the one-legged man again.
“Is he insane, or insolent?” asked the King, turning to the garrison commander, who still sat exactly where he had landed, his feet sockless inside his worn slippers. Immobile, the old man replied as though in a daze:
“He is neither insane nor insolent. He is the troops; he is the army.”
“Where is the royal guard? Where are the cavalry and the lancers?” enquired the Prince quietly, thinking that perhaps the garrison commander had been struck dumb with fright.
But the old man stretched out his hand and pointed to the one-legged man.
“
There
is the guard,
there
is the army too,” he replied. “I have no other troops, my lords. You may go up to the dormitories, if you wish, and see for yourselves whether I am lying or not.”
And because the King and the Prince remained still, unwilling to believe, the old man continued:
“You remember the old times, my good lords. Gone are those times, nor will they ever return again.”
Just then, Cartwheeler finally arrived, flushed red and sweating, hot from running.
The King pointed to the old garrison commander, who was still sitting on the ground, and with one hand made a sign to indicate that the man was not entirely right in the head.
“He is not all there,” he said in a hushed tone.
“He is all there, my lord,” replied the Lord Chamberlain, “and he is telling you the truth. There are no troops—”
“What is all this nonsense, for heaven’s sake!” interrupted the King, who was beginning to become angry once again. “Let him summon the officers and I shall show you then where my army is.”
And turning to the old man:
“Fetch at once General… General… what’s his name? Never mind the name,” he screamed, enraged.
“There is no general here, my lord,” replied the garrison commander, trembling and shaking.
“Well, then, call the Commander of the Corps!”
“There is no Commander of the Corps!”
“Then call whomever you like, but call someone!” yelled the King, quite beside himself.
“We are all of us here, my lord!” said the old man, with a most pitiful expression on his face.
“But then the army…”
“There is no army any longer, long gone is the army, finished—you seek it in vain, my lord! There are just the two of us, my cook and myself!”
The King seized his head with both hands.
“Is it I who am going mad? Perhaps I do not understand?… You talk utter nonsense!” he burst out angrily again. “I know well that I have an army, for I pay for it every year…”
And, changing his tone:
“In fact, what do I pay for it exactly?” he asked the Lord Chamberlain.
“I do not know, my lord. You managed such accounts with the High Chancellor. I never laid eyes on them…”
“I pay… um… Well, I pay a great deal!” the King continued nervously. “And I also pay for my navy… well, an equal amount. Where is the navy? The soldiers must be on the ships! Where are the ships?”
No one knew.
With the corner of his mantle he wiped the perspiration that had formed strings of beads on his forehead.
“Let us go to the naval base,” he ordered.
And with his son he hastened to the river, while farther behind, far away, tumbling at every step, followed the miserable Lord Chamberlain.
They reached the river, which ran its course, tranquil and transparent, between the green wooded riverbanks where no house could be seen, no matter how far one strained one’s eye.
There were only two shabby old feluccas there, moored to the shore by a long rope, rocking away lazily on the silvery waters; a wide plank, nailed to the sides at each end, joined them together at the middle and held one next to the other.
Sprawled across the prow of one of the boats there slept a one-armed man, his mouth agape.
The King gazed up and down the river, yet he saw nothing but lush green grass, many trees, and some stones, fallen from
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