"The Duke Puts Up His Dukes" - A Drag/NET Story
By Arthur Levesque -- bs@boog.org -- http://boog.org

"Announcing Duke Slash-on-Back the Just and Lady Jessica!"
     I walked into the royal ball that night, expecting it to be yet another
boring affair.  I had on my arm one of the King's nieces, the only date I could
get on short notice.  To be bluntly honest, she's my sister.  Good King Ian sat
in his gaudy thrown while courtiers and foreigners kissed up to him.  Lucky
bastard.  Here I am, fourth in line for the throne, and no one ever wanted to
kiss up to me.  Then again, unless there were war, assassination, or plague, the
chances of my ever becoming King were slim and none, and slim just left town.
     A man that I had never seen before, dressed in the livery of one of Count
Pendragon's servants, approached me.  "Good sir," the impudent squire began,
with grog hanging heavy in his breath, "Why do they call you 'Duke Slash-on-Back
the Just'?"
     "'Just' as in 'Just Duke Slash-on-Back'.  I've never fought a dragon, been
at war, or done anything else worthy of getting a title.  King Ian likes to rub
it in, while he's not listening to that odd music he's invented, 'pink rock' or
whatever."
     The man then had the nerve to grasp my hand and shake it!  As I
contemplated ways to punish the useless wretch, he staggered off and started
talking to Viscount Maxwell the Ray in loud, obnoxious tones.  Then I noticed
that he had slipped a note into my palm.  I looked again at the squire, who was
being thrown out by one of Earl John of Friday's manservants (or is that
menservant?)
     The note read:  "Go to the stables tomorrow morn after the cock crows, and
go alone.  We have much to discuss, and your life hangs in the balance."
     Viscount Maxwell and Count Pendragon were arguing about the squire, the
Count insisting that the mysterious lout was not in his employ.  I excused
myself and went to the dining room.  Thee Mystyk, King Ian's wizard, and his
apprentice, Prefect of the Ford, both looked at me strangely and then slipped
into the crowd.  I ate a bowl or porridge.  At least I tried to, but it tasted
too much like my mother's oatmeal.  When the King's jester, Greg son of Eric
arrived, I left ball and went up to my room to get some sleep.  I secured the
door with a large iron bolt.

     Morning came as she usually does, much too early.  I was hungover like the
stars over the ocean, and my mouth tasted like the den of a dragon.  I dressed
in a hurry in inconspicuous clothing, strapped on my sword (Back's Slasher), and
made my way to the stable.  I arrived just as the rooster announced the new day,
and found the mysterious gatecrasher waiting.
     "Who are you?" I asked, in no shape to be more original.
     "Call me the Raven," whispered he, "and speak to no one of this encounter.
Before this day is over an attempt will be made on your life.  You must flee,
pack your belongings and take refuge at the Abbey."
     "Must thee speak so loud?" I groaned, "and who would dare attack the Duke
and nephew of the King?"
     "The same who dared kill the King and his two sons, 'Killer' Roy and
Tristan 'Gambler' the Fourth."
     "Were they killed last night?  Why did you not warn them?" I shrieked.
     "They were killed days ago, and replaced with imposters.  You are next.
Somebody, and we do not know who, is taking over the kingdom and is replacing
all heirs to the throne to ensure his total dominion."  Before I could answer
any more questions, the stranger leaped on his horse, and rode away.  "Hi ho,
Odysseus!  Giddyap!"
     I returned to my room, packed all my belongings, and set out for the Abbey
in the nearby fishing village of Dragged Net.

     I arrived on Abbey Road the following night, weary and hungry.  I paused to
allow four peasants to cross the road.  One of them, barefoot, was so pale I
thought he must needs be dead.
     I knocked on the door.  The door swung open and a strange, unemotional
voice said, "Enter, Duke Slash-on-Back the Just, and be quick about it!"
     "Who are you," I inquired of the hooded figure, "and how do you know of my
coming?"
     "I am called The Electric Monk," said he, "and it was I who sent you the
warning.  I discovered the plot in my dreams three days ago, and knew that you
would be attacked the day after the ball.  Hung over, the ruffians would not
need fear your legendary blade."
     "Because of a nightmare--" I began.
     "I have the power of augury," he said in a cold voice, "and my dreams
always ring true.  There are foul deeds afoot, and they must be stopped.  Any
who would seek power by such means deserves it not."
     "But where would they find imposters who look exactly like the Royal
Family?"  I stammered.  "It just seems a bit unlikely to me, brother monk."
     "All men have doubles," the monk said.  He then pulled back his hood and
revealed his face.  It was as though I were gazing in a looking glass!  "Our
enemy, the King's wizard, has the power to locate these doubles.  I was to take
your place, after my will was bent to the Wizard's control!"
     "What can we do?" I asked, not able to believe my ears.  "And why does Thee
Mystyk not merely bend my will, and that of the King?"
     "Those of Royal blood are not easily enchanted," said the monk, "and the
imposters would be quite easily controlled because, inside, they would desire to
BE the king, the prince, the duke.  Do you follow?"
     "And you do not desire to be Duke?"
     "I do not.  And I do not wish that swine to control our lands.  He must be
stopped and his work revealed.  And then, my son, shall you be King."
     My heart skipped a beat.  Me?  King?!?  "What must I do?"
     "You will stay here!" The Electric Monk commanded.  "I will go back in your
stead, and claim to have been hunting.  I am not unschooled in the mystical
arts, and should be able to subdue them when they make their move."
     The monk and I then exchanged clothing, but I insisted on keeping my blade.
He agreed, saying that he would need it not.  He then mounted my horse and rode
back to the castle.
     It's boring in an Abbey.  The other monks never spoke, and spent to day
chanting and striking their foreheads with large books.  I was restless and
uneasy.  The King and his sons killed, my own life threatened, the kingdom in
peril, and here I sat, in hiding!  How could I ever face myself, how could I
ever be a true King, if I cowered here while a stranger saved my life and the
kingdom?  I felt ashamed and demanded a horse.
     All the way back to the Castle Harvey my mind was a whirling chaos.  I was
afraid, I was confused, I was angry, I was smelly.  I stopped and bathed in the
River Fletch before arriving at the castle.
     I brought my horse to Earl John of Friday's private stable and crept up to
my rooms by a secret corridor I had found when I was but twelve.  When I gazed
in my room through the eyes of a painting on my wall, I lost my breath:  The
monk was bound to a chair, and Thee Mystyk stood before him.

     "You dared pit your abilities against mine?" demanded the evil wizard.  "I
shall bend your mind and then you will personally kill the cowardly Duke for me!
Moohoowahahahaha!!"
     "You have expended all your power and have not bent my mind yet," replied
the monk cooly.  "Thou must return to your lab for more Universal essence."
     "You are more powerful than I thought!  It may be wiser for me to kill both
you and the real Duke, under the pretense of Treason!  The King, MY king, will
gladly sign the edict!"  The fiend drew his sword, Excaliber, and prepared to
snuff the life of my attempted savior, the Electric Monk.
     I could not allow this to happen.  I charged into the room and leaped in
front of the Monk.  For fifteen minutes the magician and I thrust and parried.
Truly he was a good swordsman, but I was better.  For good reason did they plan
to kill me while I was hungover.
     When the corpse of the wizard lay on the ground before me, I unbounded the
Monk and we left to take care of the false royalty.  "The real Royal family is
scarred from their battle against the Dragonet of Ryan.  Thus will we reveal the
imposters," I explained to the Monk.
     Before we reached the King's Quarters (we had just passed the King's
dimes), we were surprised by the Prefect of Ford, Mystyk's apprentice.  He
sprayed us with Paralysis Dust and made as if to slit our throats.  The monk
released an anglo-saxon oath that I didn't think a man of the cloth could use.
     When the poisoned dagger of the wizard's apprentice was but a foot from my
throat, he collapsed at my feet.  Unable to turn to see my savior, I called out
"Who's there?"
     "I came to investigate when I found a strange horse in my stable," The Earl
of Friday replied, stepping out of the shadows and putting down his crossbow.
"Mind explaining to me what's going on, particularly why there are two of you?"
     We told our story to the Earl while we waited for the paralysis to wear
off.  He knelt before me when he heard I was rightful King.  He knelt before me
a fortnight later, after my coronation, when I dubbed him Knight and named him
my Heir Apparent.  The monk returned to his Abbey, but returned to the castle
now and then when we wanted to play jokes on Count Pendragon of Zork.

     THE END