Less One Count

Less One Count
Flash Fiction (269 words) 


Angelina looked up from her morning tea,  "Phillip, what is it?  You look pale."

"I slept badly I'm afraid, today's hunt will have to be postponed."  Crown prince Phillip, replied.

"This is about that mercenary becoming a Count isn't it dear?"

Phillip looked at his consort, grateful for her blunt manners.  Again she had cut through the court's deceptive mannerisms to the truth.  "Yes dear.  Again, I just hate to think that anyone can manage to buy their way into royalty.  This kingdom has been struck low."

Angelina looked thoughtful for a few moments, then spoke.  "Word is that this newly bought count is fussing at trying fit in with his new status, he even hinted that he wouldn't dream of turning down an invitation to join one of the royal hunts."

"Are you mad?  Suggesting that such a one could truly join our exalted ranks?"

"Easy my prince, think of the potential.  Today you hunt the boar remember? Often a very dangerous activity."

A calculating look entered the prince's eyes.  He started to speak but stopped.  Finally he said, "He was a mercenary before, so there's no lack of courage, a couple of well  chosen words in his ear and we can train him up to respond like my brother's pet monkey.  I can get him to lead the hunt, in full view and record.  Nobody will suspect that the aim is to harm him."

Practicing his look of shock and mourning, the prince turned to Angelina  "Do I look upset at the tragic death of our newest noble?"

** written for Daily Flash Challenge July 17 2010 ***
Daniel O Casey