Sir Azrael posted:

The Greatest of Fools - 704 words

Theogren raised his battleax in the air and shouted as he came into view of the city. The army behind him howled and pounded the earth with their spears. Their armor shone brightly, and each of them wore a crimson cape. Behind them, horses pulled with them engines of siege, and catapults. Theogren advanced down the hill with his four-man guard and shouted at the men in the parapets above the closed gate of the city of Aran.

“I am Theogren, champion of King Aldus the Conqueror, and general over his army! Open your gates! I have come to restore the King's Order here in Aran.”

The men disappeared, and with a great noise the gates were lifted a short ways and a few people passed through the teeth at their bottom. Five carried shields and short swords, and wore dull shirts of chain over gray-green padded coats. One of them was a head taller than the rest, and wore steel plate that was scarred and pitted with age. He carried a great sword in a leather baldric. They walked out and stopped, and the gates shut behind them. Following them was a fool. The fool danced as she went, turning somersaults and cartwheels in their wake. Her uniform was such an unsightly profusion of pattern and color that that her constant movement had a kaleidoscopic effect.

Theogren and his guard advanced to meet them. The fool stood on her head and spoke to them as they approached, stopping in the dry and stony path leading to the gate.

“Hail and well met, Theogren. I am Dasha. I can only imagine that you expected to be greeted by a greater authority than this. However, only a fool would leave the safety of the city when an army approaches, and only the greatest of fools would follow that blunder by telling their general to gently caress himself, to her and her audience's great amusement, but alas: I am the world's greatest fool, and to be here today is a matter of professional pride.”

Theogren fumed, at a loss for words.

The Fool happily filled the silence. She produced a dagger and an orange and she from two concealed pockets. She peeled the orange with the sharp blade and ate the slices, which she chewed as she spoke. “Aran no longer recognizes Aldus as its rightful King. The city of Aran will govern itself independently from now on. This city is under my protection now, and your army will leave and will not return, with or without you leading it, General Theogren.”

The tall man drew his great sword slowly. Theogren snarled and rushed at the tall swordsman, ordering his men to attack. None of the guards moved, as if captivated by the scene. The fool threw a banana peel beneath Theogren's heel as he ran. Thogren fell headlong. The swordsman suppressed a bark of laughter.

Theogren pushed himself out of the gravelly dirt. He knelt and then stood slowly, hampered by his heavy armor. Her was scuffed and dirty; his face grim. He paused, no longer certain who the real threat was. Everyone was watching the fool. Theogren unclasped his torn cape and let it fall lifelessly to the ground. Dasha danced and giggled and spun before him, juggling brightly colored swatches of cloth. The effect was maddening. Theogren swung his ax at her in a deadly arc. The fool danced and whirled, evading his ax neatly, and soon had it tangled in her scarves. With a twist of her body and another cartwheel, she wrenched the ax from his grasp. Dasha spun like a discus thrower, lobbing the ax and her scarves towards one of Aran's men.

“Catch!” Said she.

He dodged it, grinning.

Some of Theogren's men backed away. A few of Aran's men laughed openly. The fool joined them, cackling gleefully, her bells jingling. Theogren clutched a wrist protectively, as it had been badly twisted.

“They say that death wears the garb of a fool because she too mocks the meek and mighty in equal measure. Do you not feel mocked, champion? Do you not feel mocked, general? Am I not the world's greatest fool?”

Theogren, wincing for the pain of it, applauded.