The King's Game

Jim shifted around in his seat, stretched, and yawned. The softness of his chair was making him sleepy, and the fragrance of the room reminded him of lilac. "Lilac," thought Jim, "That's a funny word... Heh, heh. Lilac." John Breasly slammed his hand down on the table. "May I have your attention, Mr. Bloodsilver, please?" Breasly slouched back in his throne, and glared at Jim from across the table. On the table before him were three glasses of wine, the meaning of which, Breasly had been explaining before hand. Jim scratched his chin, and sighed, "I'm sorry, what were we talking about?" Breasly gave a groan, and snapped his fingers. From a small side door, a man carrying a scroll of paper marched out, like a dog coming to his master's call. As if on cue, he unraveled his paper and began reading. "Jim Bloodsilver, you are hereby charged with the following crimes. Piracy on the High Seas, heresy against the King of Great Britain-" "Ain't no King of mine!" "Quiet!" Breasly snapped. "Proceed." The man nodded. "The killing of numerous Marines and Sailors of His Majesty's Navy, and the unlawful impersonation of an officer of the East India Trading Company." Breasly clapped and said, "Thank you. You may leave." The man gave a small nod, and left the room with as little impression as when he had entered. "Do you remember why you're here now?" Jim's face changed from an almost bored look to a look of almost complete comprehension, then back to confusion. "No..." Jim said with a breath. Breasly rubbed his brow. "Ok. Let me give you the short version. You messed up. My men caught you. They arrested you. I heard of it, and gave you the choice of-" "Of what?" "Argh!" Breasly gave a short scream. "Sir, you are the most rude and single handedly the most annoying man I've ever met. If you would allow me to complete a single sentence, maybe we could get through this quicker." As Jim opened his mouth to argue back, Breasly pointed at him, "Another word without my permission, and we send you to trial. And..." (he added with a grin) "I'm sure you'll lose." JIm sighed, defeated, and sank back in his chair. Breasly continued, his face changing to a slight pink-ish hue. "As I was saying, I heard of your arrest and visited you in jail, and gave you a choice. I could let you stand trial normally, or you could join me in a little game of wits." Breasly seemed to be waiting or an answer, until he remembered his orders. With a sigh, he muttered, "You may speak." "Ah, yeah, I remember something about that... It's all kinda fuzzy..." Breasly gaped at him. "Dear... How drunk were you, man?!" Jim's eyes drifted to the ceiling before looking back at Breasly. "I was drinking," he asked. Breasly slammed his hands on the table. "That's enough. Should I explain the rules of the game to you, since you seem to remember nothing else we talked about?"
Jim nodded. Breasly muttered about feeling like a school teacher, then began. " Its simple. I take a vial of poison..." Here Breasly removed a small vial from his jacket, "And put it into whatever chalice I like. Then, you decide which of the chalices aren't poisoned, and take a drink. If you're correct, you go free. If you lose... you end up dead. So, ready to begin?" Jim yawned again, and shrugged. "Sure. Go for it." Breasly snapped, and a small folding wall was brought forward and placed between Jim and John. John feigned movements of pouring into each one, snapped again, and the wall was removed. "Now, choose!" he ordered. Jim rubbed his chin and thought hard, then asked, "What kind of poison is that?" Breasly smiled, "Arabian Viper. It's tasteless, scentless, and colorless, and lethal within 5 minutes. So the only way to know if you choose the right one is to wait and see." Jim sank back in his chair, and receded deeper in thought. About that time, a butler entered the room. "Sir, it's tea time." Breasly waved his hand. "Bring it in." As the butler walked by, Jim sprang up, grabbed a cup, and swallowed it in one large gulp. "What are you doing?!" Breasly demanded. "You need to choose the non-poisoned glass!" "I did!" Jim yelled back. John slapped his face, then pointed at the glasses in front of him. "From these three, idiot!" "I can't!" John's jaw dropped. "And why not?" "It's simple. They're all poisoned." John seemed stunned, and Jim decided to explain his reasoning. "You called me here as an alternative to death, and since I doubt you'll be showing mercy to ME of all people, I figured I would end up dead anyway. You tried your hardest to mask the sound of the poison hitting the wine, but I could still hear it." Breasly jumped up, "You didn't follow the rules! And for that our deal is dull and void! To the gallows with you! Forget the trial!" But Jim shook his head. "No luck, John. You said 'Decide which chalices aren't poisoned and take a drink.' Jim held up his tea cup to emphasise his point. "And I did just that. I decided that none of the chalices weren't poisoned and took a drink... of tea." Jim set his cup down, and rose from his chair, and bowed. "Thank you Breezy, for a most entertaining game." As he backed out of the room, Jim added one more thing. "Oh. And change it from the smell of Lilacs. Doesn't really work with the colors of the room. Good day, sir." Then, he was out the door. The guards peered around the door at Jim, then back to John. "Should we go after him, sir?" John sank into his chair. "No," he sighed. John then sniffed. "It doesn't smell like Lilac, more like Lavender-" John sat straight up in his chair. "Did he just call me Breezy?!"
Category:Fan Stories
Category:POTCO Creations
Category:POTCO Stories
Category:Fan Creations
Category:POTCO