Refraction | Part 2 | Multiverse
2) Introducing Prince Charles V
The Royal Caravan slowed as it moved through the pass. The heavily armored vehicles creaked and lumbered up the hairpin road carved into the mountain’s face, making their way toward Ponja dol Jagganata, the Giant’s Bridge. The King of the Realm His Majesty Charles Xavier IV sat low in the seat, his great brow furrowed as he stared across at his wife, Queen of the Realm Her Majesty the Lady Alexandretta, who at the moment was also very Knocked Up.
She was making quite a show of breathing, with a lot of little huffs and puffs, followed by long slow exhalations. The QRHML Alexandretta had a sheen of sweat across her brow, her skin pale with high flushed spots on her cheeks. She was accompanied on her rear facing seat by a fussing and blustery middle aged mid-wife and nurse, one Gimlet Carlsburg. The Nurse (as KRHM Charles has always thought of her) seemed to be guiding the proceedings with her left hand, waving it in circles with the huffing and puffing, then, like a vocal conductor, drawing her hand slowly out in front of her. All the while nodding her large round head as if in great approval at the QRHML Alexandretta. KRHM Charles had never been this close to imminent childbirth, and quite frankly, he did not find it to be to his taste. The QRHML Alexandretta finished a breathing cycle and smiled weakly at him, then grimaced and clutched at her gowns, a low moan escaped her lips.
His Majesty bent the entire force of his will toward making the caravan move faster over the rough road. A year ago this road, though steep and curving, was not half as treacherous as it was now. There had been unrest among the people. Raiders and guerillas had taken to these mountains, ambushing travelers and trade caravans. The Army had moved in to quell the unrest, a Police Action that had become a quagmire. The King did not want civil unrest to become civil war, and his actions so far had been largely peaceful, but the guerillas were backed by outside agitators, and they continued to attack convoys that crossed the mountains beyond the bridge.
The king laid a wary eye on his wife, whose fits of moaning and heavy breathing were becoming increasingly close together. He couldn’t be positive, but he took this as a sign that Things were about to happen. He stood and lurched his way to the front of the royal chamber, popped the hatch to the driver’s cockpit. The cramped space was filled with all sort of screens and devices closely monitored by a gruff looking man who snapped off a neat salute and reminded the KRHM Charles that he was, as ever, at his Royal Majesty’s Service.
“Umph. Yes well, thank you.” Replied King Charles. “I don’t suppose we can increase the pace? My wife’s exhortations give me pause.”
“Well, My Lord, the truth of the matter is, the scouts are quite fearful of this particular area, they have in fact, requested permission to slow His Royal Majesty’s Caravan.”
“I see. Call the medical transport and have them bring up the Doctor, we will rely on the scouts knowledge of the matter, but once we make the bridge I want to move as quickly as possible to the palace.”
“Understood your Highness, I’ll relay both messages immediately.”
With that KRHM Charles cast another glance across the interior of the cockpit, gave the driver a nod, sealed the hatch, and made his across the chamber to the rear doors. He pressed the intercom button and informed the guards outside the door that the arrival of the of the Royal Doctor was imminent. He turned back toward his wife and watched her from this new vantage point. As if in response to his gaze, she suddenly bent over, screamed this time(!), and almost rolled off of her sofa. The Midwife looked at him and stated flatly,
“Her time is now.”
“Oh Snap.” Replied the King.
Then the Doctor came in through the rear door, rushed across the room and began to confer in hushed tones with Nurse Carlsburg.
Then rebels attacked the caravan.
Quite frankly, the King was happy for the distraction. He leapt into his armor and pulled weapons from his rack. He was popping bomblettes into the hills before he was out the door. And in the belly of the enormous iron beast he had just vacated, his first and only son was born.
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