CHARACTERS IN SCENE:
ARMENIA/ARTHUR: Princess of Medi, pretending to be a servant from Albion and working with the Independent Investigator.
KING MEDI: Ruler of Medi, being investigated over alleged crimes made against people of allied kingdom of Albion.
King Medi’s Palace
Enter Armenia
Armenia: What fun this whole game appears to be. Not for them, but certainly for me. I cannot be sent down by Wilson; he trusts me in my duty, Arthur merely tries to help his questioning with taking words from out of his independent mouth. Lia? Why the Princess trusts me entirely, and her and brother come closer together every day. Shall’t not be long before they can be struck by force of almighty storms. And now I show to Calais what Medi shall do to keep his throne and keep servant’s silence. His loyalty is next in line to crumble afore him. Ha! Such fun this is to play.
[Enter Medi]
Medi: You are the fool of Albion who wishes to conquer Kingdom?
Armenia: I am far too fool to conquer sire, only to inform.
Medi: Inform of what? Why should I care to listen to the words you utter? I am of royal blood as dictated by my ancestors. You are an insect crawl’d through growth from beyond my walls. I shall not adhere to what you say.
Armenia: I come not to order m’lord. You do not have to believe me.
Medi: I do not. I am King.
Armenia: Yes. I merely believed there was something you should know about the innocence of your castle. It may help you in your quest.
Medi: Why should you wish to help Medi?
Armenia: No more reasons than seeing the greatness of thine own Kingdom m’lord. I would not wish this greatness to crumble ‘pon Calais tongues. You are our greatest allies you know, my King would be a fool to lose your kinship.
Medi: Tis true. Tis true. What information do you wish to supply to thy royal crown? I shall judge on its importance in the matter.
Armenia: The young attendant to the Prince hath spoken to Independent.
Medi: That is all?! I knew my servants were to speak to him, tis not new news.
Armenia: Tis not all.
Medi: Whatever else is there? Are you to profess the exact uniform he wore?
Armenia: No sire.
Medi: You may as well express more pointless words. You are fool, I am King. No words you express shall be of importance.
Armenia: So you do not wish to know of the attendants break to explain all threatening letters you have sent under his watch?—sire.
Medi: What?
Armenia: The attendant doth whisper words around vines. Tell of many tales through his thorny tongue. He sneaks ‘round backs and doorways seeking thy destruction of thine own Kingdom. I hear him say to looking glass his hatred for the life here, the hatred for Albion and the need for war. Sire, I fear for the death of thine own blood. I fear for the death of thy Prince of Medi. Your principles they bleed through the hearts of his body, and once beaten will’t stop forever.
Medi: This cannot happen. Attendant did not say this!
Armenia: I am sorry sire; Attendant spoke volume.
Medi: Then Independent knows of what I—Medi hath done to its friends? This cannot move on to answer Albion’s call. I cannot afford to lose such life.
Armenia: The Attendant, sire, hath not finished completely. He builds up courage to speak more the next day when he shall see Calais once ‘gain.
Medi: Yes the Independent must see him once more—but as for speech, we shall see if mirror cracks hard down on leaking voices. I shall not let this go unpunished. I must stop this afore this worsens.
Armenia: Sire. Tis best.
Medi: And you, who come with information, Albion. You shall not be rewarded.
Armenia: I need not no rewards. I need only Medi’s survival.
Medi: Good. Loyal to thrones, good fool.
Armenia: I sire.
Medi: If anymore comest then I shall trust thine own tongue to come to me and tell of it. Loyal fool.
Armenia: It is most dangerous for me to go ‘gainst my Master.
Medi: This may be; my Knights shall protect you if things were to worsen. Loyalty in fools is bought. Protection is needed.
Armenia: Thank you sire. This fool bows to you.
Medi: Go, be away to your true Master. I must deal with my own fool, and strike down upon unholy gospels.
Armenia: Yes sire. You must do what is right for Medi.
[Exit Medi]
And I must do what is right for Princess of Medi. You are a much larger fool than you dare profess dear Father.
The virgin tongue sneaks through whispers and knocks through air. It is your time to become soul only; flames flick through your heart and slowly burn. Ha! The game comes closer to midway and begins anew the world of Athena.
[Exeunt]
The Literary Onion 