Prince of Penance

Chapter Nine: Earth Angels

Gruffi felt like he was going to die. The sheets beneath his body were damp with the sweat and vomit his exhausted body had been unable to keep under control. Beneath him the boat rocked back and forth, the sound of waves crashing against the tiny ship echoed through the little cabin. He bit back the seventy six oaths he was holding deep in his chest and tried not to lose his stomach.

Grammi would come in soon to wash him, clean his sheets, and dose him up with another round of that weird tonic mixture that Chummi had suggested would be a better antidote to the sea sickness than the seltzer.

"Land of goshen Gruffi, I've never known you to be this sea sick before!" she had cried, when the tonic she had fed him had immediately made its unpleasant reappearance.

Neither did he. He had known he might get a little sea sick if they had taken Tummi's boat, which is why he declined the idea. But never had he thought his sea sickness would be this horrible.

"Never seen a bear with such wobbly sea legs as him," Chummi had declared.

Gruffi could believe it. Even now in this place between asleep and awake he couldn't stop the rocking, the back and forth, the waves tossing his stomach to and fro, pushing back and forth. And somewhere in the back of his head he could hear someone, or something, humming with steady vibrations that caused him to jerk awake and blink.

Darkness, and a cool damp cloth on his forehead. His whole body was slick and damp, and not from sweat, but from the soapy luke warm water which was being applied to his fur with a washcloth. It may have been warm water but to his fever depressed body it felt like a nice cool glass of gummi berry cider on a warm spring day.

But the arms that were under his back and legs supporting him, lifting him out of the tub were not Grammi's arms, and the voice that was speaking to him in hushed tones soothingly to him was not Grammi's voice. No, the voice and arms were distinctly male, and distinctly familiar.

"H-hon..." his voice was hoarse at best, and the endearment totally weak and not very Gummi, but the soft appreciative chuckle that followed it was worth all the weak kneed endearments he could utter.

"Shhh, Gruffi, you're going to be all right now," Gusto said, and started drying him with a soft towel. "We'll be home soon..."

"D'snt matter," Gruffi moaned. "Just wanna get to shore...land...solid ground..."

"I know," Gusto smiled. "At least it gives me an excuse to be with you alone for awhile..."

Gruffi just let himself be dried, and dressed, let those nimble expressive hands care for his sickness tired body, wrap him in blankets, and hold him close. Those artist's hands, which were more expressive and smooth and strong than he had ever noticed them being before. It was like a fever had broken and he could see Gusto right in front of him. A fever not created by his body, but simply from his ignorance and lack of understanding.

Gruffi could see, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the nobility in Gusto, the confidence of body and poise that could only have come from one who had been born into a life of honour and bravery, a life of Gummi Knights and Kings.

Gusto had told him that Kings weren't born, they were made. Very likely the next King in a line would be the child of the previous ruler. But in the absence of a Prince any noble child, one not born from inbreeding or a disease prone family, might be chosen by the Gummi wizards as a potential candidate for Kingship. All those seen as has having that potential were trained up as Knights, from their birth, for the distinct possibility of being a King. Was Gusto a Knight of Monteray too?

Gruffi would love to see how well Gusto could handle a sword.

"A Gummi berry for your thoughts?" Gusto said, finally pulling himself under the sheets with Gruffi and curling up beside him.

"Yeah," Gruffi griped, pulled one arm free of the blanket to put on his aching head. "What in the name of the Great Gummies is that humming noise!?"

"Oh, you can hear that?" Gusto looked suddenly guilty and embarrassed. "Its this darned compass that Chummi gave me. I can't quite figure out how to turn it off. It hums if we're going in the right direction...West..."

Gruffi took the thing, looked at it a moment, and in no short second located the 'peg' for stopping and starting the humming.

"Oh!" Gusto blushed and stammered. "Hah, see, I'm not good with gadgets."

"Yeah," Gruffi smirked, and handed the thing back. "Well, lets just see what you are good at..."

"Well, if you insist."

Aftwards, Gruffi felt strangely better, as if Gusto's hands had some magical healing powers he didn't know of. Maybe he did. He was an acolyte wizard after all.

Well, fancy that...

-seperator-

Prince Augustus Bryton the Fourth sat on his throne pondering the chattering groups of young elites and old pudgy pompadours crowding around the doorway, waiting in figeting anticipation for the peasant guests from Dunwyn to arrive.

It wasn't every day that peasants were allowed to enter the Court, and even rarer that they should come to address the Crown Prince directly. But Bryton had gotten the message by carrier bird moments earlier that the Persephone had docked in port, and that the peasants would be coming directly to the palace, along with Councillors Numa and Venti, and their...charge.

Bryton thanked the Great Gummies once more than his mother, though traditional to a fault, had at least given him a name in addition to the one given the previous three male members of his family. The youngest Augustus would have an identity all this own, rather than be an avatar for a King long dead whose name once had more sway and import than the last twenty monarchs rolled up together in one lump. Bryton would have his own unique identity, and would be seen for his own deeds, rather than having to be a replacement for Augustus the First once crowned. There would be no question as to who he was; Prince Bryton, soon to be King Bryton.

If all goes well...

But the third Augustus, Bryton was not sure of. He was a wild card in this hand of poker whose fate and ultimate destiny could either usurp Bryton's authority or strengthen it. Assuming that the stories Venti had written to him of his uncle were true, then things could get pretty hairy either way. The aging Councillor was rather kindly, and more prone to feeling sympathy for the felons he convicted than the other twenty Justices combined. Because of this, his dire warnings had more of an effect on Bryton than Councillor Numa's ever could.

'Perversion...indecency. Ragged clothes and bad manners and laughing it up with peasants...while Monteray suffers under HIS magic! Ah my Prince, I fear the worst...'

Bryton rubbed his head and tried to push the letter to the back of his head. Venti and Numa were usually on opposite ends of the spectrum on the matter of peasant behaviour. But in this they seemed to be completely reversed, which made this even more complicated.

Numa, ever aloof and mistrusting of the poor, had cautioned that the peasants were of a good honest people and that too harsh a response to his uncle's arrival could cause them to be swept up into a conflict and painful situation that they didn't deserve. Venti had called the peasants disgracefully ill bred and sickly and cautioned Bryton to have his strongest healers confine these simple peasants to quarters to keep their land bred illnesses from spreading to the island people.

As if we need another plague...

Between Numa and Venti, he was torn in twain. Which of them to believe? Even further complicating matters was his mother, who suggested he make no decisions or Judgment calls on the matter of his Uncle until she was with him to guide him. Bryton was the Crown Prince, it was true. But she was the one who had raised him and trained him, she had been ruling the throne by proxy in his stead after the death of his father and she knew more about Court, Crown and Council than all the previous monarchs combined, including Augustus the first.

Dangerous this situation. If he didn't keep his hands on this, if he couldn't handle himself and make a wise judgement call, all could go to ruin.

Not much he could do about it, but at sixteen years old he wanted nothing more than to go crawl to his mother's rooms and weep. He only hoped she would be in good health and up to this visitation from their long lost relative. He couldn't do this alone.

At last the doors to the Grand Hall opened and a burly herald entered to announce that their guests had arrived. Bryton sat up high in his throne and found himself shaking.

Where is mother?

The peasants were wearing what could only be the humblest and most out of date clothes that had ever graced these hallowed halls, but for them must have been their finest attire. First to bow low were a male and female pair, who were foster siblings, according to Venti's letter, and the matriarch and patriarch of this family.

"Announcing Gruffi and Grammi Gummi, of Gummi Glen!"

An older family then, if they were still using the traditional Gummified naming scheme. The male he didn't have to think twice about. Gruffi Gummi was a burly growling bear, whom Venti had warned was severely sea sick and had a nasty ill bred temper. Best that he was kept away from the genteel manners of the Court and set to working somewhere below the main palace amongst the common folk, in the stables or as a repairman. The Palace was under going restoration of the east wing, which had burnt down several years ago, and a handyman, well any hands really, were always needed.

Grammi was a handsome woman and obviously a peasant. Round as a bubbling cauldron of the Gummi Berry Juice she surely must be a master brewer of, she smiled in a manner of a wise woman that would put up with no nonsense. Already in his head he was thinking of the possible places in the castle where she could be of value and use; the kitchens were always in need of help and Gummi Berry Juice cookers in high demand. But there was the other possibility too; these peasant women were strong brewers of rums and tonics, and the healers were always looking for apprentice doctors to pass on their knowledge to.

I'll let Mother decide about her...

Both bowed before him in a manner that suggested that they were well acquainted with the nobility in some manner, then moved to the side to be replaced by the next pair.

"Announcing Master Wizard Zummi Gummi, and Tummi Gummi, of the Glen!"

Next to be introduced were the the eldest and youngest adults in the clan; the elderly purple bear could only be the wizard Zummi, and the round one was Tummi certainly.

Venti had given the suggestion that Zummi would need to be given into the care of another Master wizard, in order to prevent a magical accident from occurring in some form or another, but that his researching skills were second only to the skilled scholars of this court. And he had studied the Great Book of Gummi, which automatically by law gave him the title of a Master wizard, even though he wasn't more than an adept in skill. He had a Gummi Medallion and could use a spell automatically with its use, without years of study and research or external sources of magic.

How a small band of peasants came to ownership of such an important book I'd like to know!

Bryton decided to take Venti's advice on Tummi; put him immediately under Captain Chummi's leadership, get some of that weight off his middle with hard work and some spit and polish. Could always use handy sailors, and he already had some self-taught ship building skills. Useful that.

"Announcing, um...Sir?...Cubbi Gummi?...and Lady Sunni Gummi, of the Glen..."

'Sir' Cubbi? A knight?

But the last two of this bunch introduced were the children, a young boy and an adolescent girl. The boy Cubbi, who had apparently earned himself the honorific of 'Sir' in his young lifetime, was a bright rambunctious child. Councillor Venti had suggested that he could use some education and put that energy to good use; perhaps he could be apprenticed to a knight to train as a squire. The lad certainly had courage enough to rise above his peasant status.

And then Bryton's breath hitched in his throat. His stomach twisted and his heart knotted his belly, and he stopped breathing.

By The Great Gummies!

An angel had just appeared before him in his Court, at this fine hour, and plucked at his heartstrings as if they were an instrument crafted soley for her use.

Sunni Gummi was breathtakingly beautiful, at fifteen years of age, and she walked in a manner that suggested she knew as such. She was adorably sweet and coy, and she bowed to him, her eyelashes fluttering flirtatiously...invitingly. And then the sweet young seraphim of beauty did something totally unexpected that made his heart twist under his ribs in agony.

She giggled. It was clear that she, and most of the now whispering Court, had noticed that he had been staring at her, and she smiled back sweetly. He heard off to the side her father, the one named Gruffi, say something to the matter of, 'now she'll be just unbearable...' but he ignored him and nodded his head politely to the girl before she finally swept off to join her family. Bryton found his eyes naturally following her, as if on a leash. Then he snapped back to attention and mentally smacked himself.

Great Gummi forfend I should be so besotted by a peasant! he told himself, swallowing hard. Where is Mother? I'm not accustomed to dealing with the poor...beautiful...unearthly...

"Announcing their Honoured Excellences; Her Ladyship Lady Numa, Head Justice and Councillor of Monteray, and His Lordship, Head Justice and Councillor Venti of Monteray."

What long and aggravating titles they had! But Numa and Venti were the only two Councillors left who were equipped and trained to take on all those positions. Bryton nodded gratefully to his two dear friends, who bowed themselves before him, then both took a place to his left as the herald fumbled with his sheet of paper, and stammered over the next introduction as if he were pronouncing a strange language.

"His Royal Majesty, Prince Augustus the Third, Lord and Knight of Monteray!"

All motion and sound in the courtroom ceased as his Uncle stepped into the Court, walking with great dignity, as if he knew he was in big trouble but was going to go down with style. Or what little style he could dressed as he was in peasant attire. At least the Glen Gummies had made a small effort to comb their hair. Augustus was threadbare, he wore a peasant's hat on his head and...were those sandals on his feet? But that wasn't what surprised him the most.

What surprised him the most was his face. Bryton stood, and found himself automatically leaving his throne walk towards the bear. Bryton approached his Uncle, stared at him, and walked around to look at him from all sides, not believing his eyes.

"Hold still, let me look at you!"

Augustus did so, frozen to the spot as if for dear life. Bryton circled him once more, and unconsciously took a staggering step back, as if he were seeing a ghost. Maybe he was.

"He...he looks just like me!" Bryton said, dismayed to hear how young his voice sounded. "Like a brother or a...fath..."

Bryton swallowed hard.

"Yes my Prince, did I not tell you?" Numa approached him from behind, smiling in her tricky way. "Clean him up and you'd be identical, save your ages. You can't always tell, but he wears his age well."

Augustus had not spoken a word, but had the look as if he was fumbling around inside his head for something to say. Bryton shook his head.

"Have nothing to say to me Uncle? After fifteen years?"

"You..." Augustus seemed to stop himself, and changed his mind. "You were just a baby, small, like, no bigger than this..."

Bryton couldn't help it. He smiled. Well, he didn't have that many family members left, so how could he not? But Councillor Numa coughed in a pointed way, and Bryton nodded to Augustus, signalling that he had been 'accepted' to enter into the Great Hall by the Crown, and then returned to his throne.

"Your majesty?"

Bryton turned to look at Admiral Karse, who was at his right where his mother usually would be during Court sessions. All official Court activities could not cease until Bryton had finished all important Crown related business, no matter how small. He wasn't sure at this moment what all the business was, but something was not happening that apparently should. Augustus had not moved from his spot, looking so bereft and self-conscious that Bryton mentally found himself pushing the bear to move off to the side. But Augustus must surely know how the Courts work, and Bryton was suddenly very confused as to why the bear had not moved.

Am I forgetting something?

Suddenly the Herald had opened the doors again and his voice rang through the room.

"Announcing Her Majesty, Queen Thistle Rose, Royal Court Advisor, Lady of Lanorby and Crown Princess of Monteray!"

'Crown Princess' was now only an honorary title, as Bryton had inherited the throne through her at birth, rather than directly from his father who had never been named a King. But she could still marry a potential King, and that would change things completely, though he knew she wouldn't.

But the trickier business of the Court was finished as far as Bryton was concerned. All the tension had flown from Bryton's heart upon seeing her, and he smiled and rose to bow in reverence and respect to his beloved mother.

She'll know what to do! Thank the Great Gummies she's here at last!


--Ahh! I hate politics! But I had to invent some sort of Court scheme for this story because of Gusto, and Justices for a courtroom setting, and how Monteray was ruled and regulated, and now suddenly I have an entire government and Monarchy system for these Gummi Bears that I never thought I'd have! Its convenient, but yeah, lots of titles and formalities that I hadn't expected I'd need. I'll try to keep out all unnecessary political diversions and stick to the Glen Gummies as much as possible. But now you see how things work in Monteray. ;) A little more in the next chapter and we'll be passed the bulk of the political Court type stuff, I hope. Maybe not. We'll see.