The King's Collie

Part II, Chapter 8: Nadia's Account

As Cameron walked around the area, he held his plate carefully but casually, and ate in the same way. He looked around for a while longer, now trying to find a good place to sit and dine. He missed the company of the Queen at this kind of time, but he knew she was back in her own Kingdom. To be honest, he was feeling a little homesick, too.

However, there was something else that greatly took his mind off of this longing for Valentia, one that concerned him greatly. It was when he was walking along the edge of the small camp-town, when he thought he heard something behind the doors of the fence that bordered the settlement. It sounded like a few paws shuffling across the ground. Actually, more than a few.

What Cameron would proceed to do was probably against the rules, but curiosity overtook him. He jumped at this fence, grabbing it and hoisting himself over it. He landed a little sloppily, with a thud, and twisted his ankle, but knew it was nothing serious. However, he was met with quite the strange look. Strange looks, rather, as a good half-hundred or more wide-eared dogs, all looking to be busied with some sort of task, suddenly turned their attention to the collie intruder. Cameron seemed to come across a smaller town.

"Oh. Hello?" Cameron greeted awkwardly, limping a little.

"Hello. Who are you?" a woman of the wild dogs asked. She was quite skinny, but not as much as some of the others of the mass of canines were. "You don't look Lusitanian, or speak exactly like one, though your sound is similar," she continued. Regardless, she wordlessly beckoned over a few men.

"I'm Cameron, of Valentia. Did you guys make those?" Cameron somewhat naïvely asked of the crude weapons a few carried.

"It's the best we can do. Tell no one we're armed," the woman dog said. "The Lusitanians took our weapons."

Cameron squinted as he voiced his concern. "And why would they?"

"To make sure no uprising against them would be held," the wide-eared canine woman replied.

"Do they keep you hostage?" the collie asked.

"They do, yes. Put the spears down," she directed to her armed people, who followed this order, "and let me introduce myself. I'm Queen Nadia, and these are the few subjects who made the trip," she revealed. "I'd imagine you'd want to know what's happened, you innocent-looking dog boy? Would you want to know what's actually happened?" she asked.

"It seems important," this innocent-looking dog boy nodded as he answered.

With that, the Queen sat, and began to describe:

"When I was but a pup, we were a strong people. My mother and father were the monarchs of a kingdom that stretched from here to the mountains of Atlas, and our power reached even further. We were most powerful in the North, where we traded with the Lusitanians of the North and Libyans of the East, and became nearly as powerful as them, and learned their language to trade better with them.

This angered their church, for they saw us as wild. Barbarians, as pointy-toothed, wide eared monsters, who kidnapped and killed and worse. They made up horrendous stories, and tried to take every chance they could get to give us a bad name. Then, we were given a sudden choice: A mass conversion to their establishment of a religion, or a consequence. We held true to our own beliefs, and they attacked, conquered our vital Northern land. Blood soaked our shores. My parents were killed, but I escaped with what would be my husband to the southmost point we could get before reaching the hopeless desert, nearer to here. Lusitania delivered the news to the rest of the world that this was a peaceful encounter, but make no mistake when I say the land was bathed in the blood of the people.

Over these years we have been further cornered. They've now found out about me, the Queen in hiding, and I saw my husband, and many more, killed," she started to trail off, staring into the distance. It took a moment for her to resume.

"Now they claim what little land we had left as their own, and now try to gain this land for themselves. So too do they claim us, and call themselves merciful for putting us to good work, as they say, instead of killing us."

Nadia said this last part in a strained hush, and the air was still for a while afterwards.

Cameron looked with great thought, at the ground. "If that is all true, and I have no reason to doubt it... I am sorry," the collie said softly, finally breaking the silence.

"I haven't had the opportunity to tell the history in a while," the Queen admitted, rubbing her shoulder, and sighing. "It is one that I think needs recognition. The taking of my kingdom's land was never peaceful, as is the story I hear of the most from these Lusitanians. I do hope you can get the word around," she said.

It was with this that Cameron revealed his importance. "I'm of the court of Felix, King Felix of Valentia, and he is here with me," he barked out. "I can tell him this side of the story, or— or even show him what's happened, let him hear it from you first-hand! I'm sure he'd be kind enough to listen and believe you," the collie eagerly said.

"But please quiet down, Cameron, lest someone know of our talk," Nadia hastily warned, "or it would be the end of us."

"I will. I must go, now, with this news to deliver," the collie yapped, and walked out of this small, separately-fenced area. He looked back, and wondered how a space that looked like it was for thirty people held more than thrice that.

As he looked back, he collided with none other than the fox colonial-governor. He made a small, deep bark, as the vulpine jumped back.

"Christ, you frightened me," the governor remarked, brushing his pants off. "Had you finished your lunch? Did you enjoy it well enough?" he proceeded to ask of his guest.

Cameron, however, didn't at all feel very welcomed anymore. He knew what had happened. "Uhm... sure, it was okay," he said, looking away a little.

"Just okay? Lord, that's the same thing that the Caledonian said. Foolish of me to think savages could put a feast," the fox groaned. "I guess that's what you get when you trust them with food, though. They like it raw, the heathens."

The collie knew exactly who the governor was talking about, and simply nodded in reply. "Look, I do believe I have to go to my King, where might His Highness be?" he asked, trying not to let his emotion show.

"They're still talking at the table," the fox responded, turning away. "Once they're done, I think I'll show them the dogs we'd gotten. Perhaps His Highness would like one," he contemplated.

"Some extra help in the Valentian castle would be nice, but it'd have to be the jobs you can trust their clumsy paws with," he chortled.

Cameron felt sick, and it wasn't from any purportedly-undercooked food.

—

"And I do think it would be a wise move to befriend this kingdom, to be its ally," Felix softly consulted with Afon.

"Your Highness, they've broken the peace, it's a move that I think—" the corgi tried to reply, but was interrupted.

"A move that I think, Afon, was an actually smart one," Felix smiled. "I don't think that their sentiments are in any way implying conquest. They look to settle here, peacefully, I would presume," he growled in satisfaction.

"Something in me supposes their sentiments aren't to be trusted," Afon said.

"Here's the opportunity I see, though," the King proposed: "We could compromise with Lusitania. We could split it. It's such an opportunity."

"An opportunity to start a war far grander than you'd think," Afon growled hostilely, hating the idea to its very core. "And the blood would be on your hands if you tried to do such a thing, especially if you failed. Lusitania is a vicious enemy. We must end this here," he hushed.

"So it'd be better to take such an enemy on with a new ally—" the King smiled.

"It'd be better not to take them at ALL, Your Highness! That's the point I'm trying to make. If anything at all, we should only fight Lusitania for retribution of taking the peace away from the land, and that would be that," the Cambrian explained.

Just then, the collie made his slow way to the table, and sat down. This sudden arrival, coupled with Cameron's expression of grave importance, implied that something important was to be said. The knight and King then listened to the dog's quiet relaying of the story brought to light, and couldn't believe their ears.