Author's Note: In case you missed the posts explaining what this is all about, a few years ago, some friends and I decided to create a list of writing prompts where our original characters "visited" other books. Seeing as the resulting stories were too much fun to let languish on my hard drive, I've dusted them off to share on my blog :)
Enjoy!
Much love,
Saffron Amatti xx
P.S. This is the last in this run of Topsy Turvy posts, though I will do a collection post soon to help people find any they may have missed. I have more Topsy Turvy posts for the future, so look out for those :)
Lucas admired his black silk outfit in the full-length mirror, which inexplicably was made of polished bronze.
'I say, these assassin chaps know how to dress,' he said.
'That's "Assassin" with a capital "A",' I said from the ether.
'But,' he said, the happy grin fading. 'I don't have to actually kill anyone, do I? I’m not sure I can.'
'No, Teppic wasn't very good at it either,' I said. 'Anyway, at this point in the story, you're done with all that and back at the Palace in Djelibeybi -'
'Jelly baby?'
'It's a joke, they're a sweet in Britain,' I explained. 'You'd know them as Peace Babies.'
'Oh,' he said. 'So what, am I a royal assassin - sorry, Assassin, or something?'
'Or something,' I agreed. 'Go down to the throne room and find out.'
Looking a little apprehensive, Lucas left what he assumed was a bedroom, despite being devoid of anything he'd recognise as being for human comfort, averting his eyes from a couple of women who seemed to have forgotten to get dressed this morning, and walking down sandstone corridors with hideous carvings of what looked rather a lot like Ancient Egyptian gods.
He didn't remember the one with spider arms, though.
The corridor eventually opened out into a room with a large golden chair in it, so Lucas assumed he was in the right place. A tall, wizened man with a bald head and a nose like a plough sidled up to him, and murmured something about needing to prepare for today's Judgements.
After a very confusing time where Lucas found himself loaded with all manner of ceremonial trinkets and with a heavy golden mask in the form of the sun over his face, he was steered to the throne and began to make his judgements, after being announced as "His Greatness the King Lucasymon XXVIII, Lord of the Heavens, Charioteer of the Wagon of the Sun, Steersman of the Barque of the Sun, Guardian of the Secret Knowledge, Lord of the Horizon, Keeper of the Way, the Flail of Mercy, the High Born One, the Never Dying King."
Which was all news to Lucas, but who was he to argue?
Except... whatever he said, the dried-out old man said something completely different, and very unfair.
'I say,' whispered Lucas. 'Just what do you think you're doing? I never said that!'
'He does that, you know,' sighed a voice behind him. Lucas turned very carefully, so as not to disturb anything, and saw the ghost of the previous Pharaoh. 'Old Dios was a sod for taking over. Best just let him get on with it.'
This suited Lucas, so he shrugged and gave in to the will of Dios.
That is, until yet another scantily clad woman was dragged before him, her hands bound in front of her.
'Clara,' he cried, leaping to his feet and sending all the ceremonial nonsense clattering to the ground. 'Why have you been dragged before the court?'
She glared at him venomously. 'I was running away,' she said. 'I didn't want to take the poison and be buried with the previous king.'
'Very sensible too,' said the ghost of the king. 'Who'd want to spend eternity under a pile of rock?'
'All right then,' said Lucas to Clara. 'I seem to be king, so why don't you marry me and be queen?'
Clara looked rather pleased about this - apparently her delusions of grandeur haven’t worn off from Macbeth yet - but Dios had other ideas.
'At dawn she shall be thrown to the sacred crocodiles for her treason,' he declared. 'Take her away.'
'What!' cried Lucas and Clara in unison, as this order was carried out. Lucas stepped towards a faintly smiling Dios, holding a ceremonial flail menacingly.
'Um, Lucas,' I whispered. 'You're an Assassin. Assassins have certain skills that might help stop Clara meeting an unpleasant end.'
'I told you I couldn't kill anyone,' he replied, still glaring at Dios. 'Although I might make an exception...'
'No need,' I said. 'You're going to break her out and escape.'
'Oh,' he said, relaxing a little. 'That sounds much better.'
Don't tell him about scaling the outside of the prison walls, will you? He'll only get upset.
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you've enjoyed these silly little stories as much as I have :) If you'd like to see Lucas, Clara, and Tommy, in their own stories (rather than causing havoc in someone else's), then they're available on Amazon as ebook, paperback, and in Kindle Unlimited :)