A Fistful of Tannenbaum, Chapter 17: King's Conspiracy

Editor's Note: Having time-traveled back to the years of King Arthur, adventure-loving Jed Foster was living the sweet life as a V.I.P. guest of the king himself when he became smitten with smittenesque Princess Penny, the most beautiful girl in the King's court and his personal favorite. The King noticed, you can bet your poor person's crown, and immediately began plotting Jed's death.

Chapter 17: King's Conspiracy

Jed Foster found Princess Penny throwing horseshoes in the back of the castle, by the toolshed. It was one of the only times he could be sure to catch her alone, just her and her 53 handmaidens.

"There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere," said Jed. It wasn't true, but it sounded stupid to say, "There you are, in the exact place I'd knew you'd be."

"I'm always out here tossing horseshoes," Penny reminded him. "I'm hoping to turn pro next year."

"I've already begun making you a pair of shoes for when you do," reminded Jed with a smirk.

It made him chuckle a little, to remember all the wealth and fortune he left behind in the future, his past, where he was loved by no one, but respected by all. And then to come to a world like this, where he had not a penny to his name, and no one knew who he was. But he had a feeling they all respected him deep in their subconscious, even if they couldn't say why. And he only wanted one penny—the princess, the prettiest maiden of them all.

Jed threw all the woo he could find at Princess Penny, knowing woo-tossing was the best way to win a girl when you didn't have any money. He told her she had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, and beautiful golden hair like strands of woven gold that he wanted to chop off and bury so only he could find it. And her ass was nice, too. He hoped she wouldn't ask about her teeth, because then he would have to lie and say they were nice, despite the fact they were made of poorly carved wood. What do you expect? It was the Middle Ages.

But while Jed tried to bag an attractive historical babe, the King was not oblivious—which meant he knew what was happening. The King was in a parapet high above the horseshoe courtyard, watching Jed's smooth moves on the medieval honey. He stroked his reddish beard as he stood by the window, leg perched up on a bench or something. I sort of picture Richard Harris in Camelot in the role, and if you would picture him that way too it would save me a lot of describing time.

"He's quite the lovemaker, isn't he, Catpants?" The King's faithful counselor, Catpants, stood by obediently, so it wasn't like the King was talking to himself.

"I wouldn't know, King, we've only shaken hands," said Catpants. "If the King is sick of the time-traveler, why doesn't the King simply have him beheaded for treason or some other made up crime?"

"No," said the King, "that's just what he would expect. Besides, the people would probably be extremely outraged if I killed him. They obviously had tremendous natural respect for him, even if they don't quite realize it yet. No… no, Catpants… I have a better plot in store for Mr. Bigshot Time-Traveler Jed Foster. Mr. Foster is about to be promoted to Supreme Knight of the King's Army. And he'll leave tomorrow to do battle with the Pope's Legion of the Damned… where he'll surely be slain in battle!"

"I'm sorry, sir, I left the room for a minute. Could you repeat that?"

But the King had already put his plan in motion, and it was too late for repeating.

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