For this one, you must confess a crime to your father while burying it in good news.
THE HORSE (any gender, mid teens through late twenties)
[breathing hard, exhausted from running]
Father!
[breathing hard]
Forgive my state. I have been running since sunset. But I bear the most wonderful news for your kingdom. For OUR kingdom.
[breathing]
I... your third child, the one you call "mediocre"... I have spotted the ENEMY CAMP!
[breath]
Not only that, but I saw the colors that the army was adorning-- father it is the most elite of the soldiers of Sonrah. And we KNOW WHERE THEY ARE. If you, if WE are able to launch a surprise attack on them, we shall surely defeat them. And if we defeat THEM, well, father as you know, the war shall be WON.
[breath]
They are in the caves at the base of cauldron canyon. Yes. That's a good distance away from here and you are right to wonder how I made the journey within a day... or a morning, really.
I... father I confess, I happened upon their camp because... because I was out on a ride. I know, I know. I am forbidden to go riding. But it was such a beautiful morning and I've grown so bored-- but, alright. I accept my transgression and beg forgiveness.
And... and I must also confess that I chose to ride Barnaby. I know he is your cherished horse and no one is allowed to ride him. But... well father, I was quite cross with you this morning, with you telling me I have no role in this war... but FATHER... what I was able to FIND thanks to Barnaby. The camp! And Barnaby's death shall not have been in vain--
...yes, he died on the way back. Forgive me. I think it was exhaustion... he WAS quite an old horse. But I will have you know that he is resting in dignity. For the moment, at least. I had the help of several roadside peasants in hauling Barnaby underneath a plum tree where his body should be adequately perfumed until he can be claimed and given a proper burial at the castle.
But father, I did not let Barnaby's death stop me from arriving here as quickly as I could. I RAN. For time IS short, is it not, father? And perhaps we can let my transgressions rest until the war is won... and you are of a somewhat better temper?
Copyright 2016 by Matt Haynes.
If you would like to use this piece, please credit: "Courtesy of Matt Haynes and The Pulp Stage"