The Kings Personal Joker (boyxboy)

Chapter Four

[A/N] No, this story isn't abandoned, sorry I'm a tit when it comes to updates, I'll have more time now though so no worries. *fist bump*

The sunlight was bright in the market place and all appeared in natures richest makeup. It was quite a crowd that had gathered, clusters of busy people flocking the stands and more came and then more. The cobblestone beneath my feet shimmered with the affluent quality of gems, the greens, the flowers, even the unwashed striped mark roofs were lurid with colour.

It seemed as though the sky itself was on its best behaviour, hoping to impress His Majesty on his wander into the markets. 

For the King to return one day and set foot outside the next it seemed like luck at its finest, I couldn't resist treating this occasion as an opportunity of sorts. Perhaps, with all the mallsmen in the Mitter I would have greater chance at finding me a job.

I decided to spend the busy morning asking if any required help. I expected the occasional ungracious response and mentally clad my iron armour to head into the unforgiving crowd.

I saw on my walk the pitching of tents off in the grassy areas away from the cobble, poles were being raised and hitched with little to no effort at all, there were plenty of hands to raise the curtain, cut the seam and carry the crates of bottled olives and vinegar to and fro.

To my great displeasure I found some relief in not being needed.

I was by no means a lazy man. Having grown up taking care of my younger siblings who had a seemingly infinite supply of boundless energy I had learnt that time was not to be squandered with aimless festivities.

On the rare occasion I went to the Mitter I had a goal, either to appease the generally curious little minds I had tied to my ankle, or to find the breads and meat that would satisfy my mother on a special occasion. Of course I also went for sex and to tipple but I'd never left more than a day to myself.

After an awkward half sprint through the thickening crowd I stilled at a stage standing half erect at the center front. It was made of old bruised wood and the hackles seemed looser than they ought to be.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and nearly jumped a yard, when I turned I saw it was Habel but this was not without effort. His every feature seemed splattered with colour, he was painted as a sad feature but the sparkle in his eyes told a very different story.

"Habel?" I asked, to be sure.

He nodded and, I think, grinned. "We're setting up a show, could be the most profitable time to do it."

I stared, "Did Henoch not say he would not risk being exposed?"

He shrugged. "Henoch is a stubborn man, he himself will not be acting for fear of being caught." Habel said this as though he was being moronic. "Yet he has agreed to do our faces and arrange the costumes, we are all in a rush, we haven't really the appropriate wear."

"So why are you already painted?" I asked.

"The paint is strong and we do not know the exact time when the King will arrive, therefor one of us must be prepared to lay an act."

I jumped when I heard Henoch yell for Habel, he sounded desperate and worried so when Habel turned to duck under the tent beside the incomplete stage I followed, with some difficulty, pulling Helga along with me and tying her in line with the other horses some way away.

When I slipped under, admittedly feeling a little nervous that my company might be unwelcome however Henoch seemed more than pleased.

"My boy! You can help us!"