Ch. 40.4 — Mr. Dumfries made his way through the narrow, snowy streets until he reached the castle gates. His breath puffed out in a frosty cloud, and his hands tingled with cold. He knocked on the small side door, and a guard dressed in furs opened the narrow window.
“Who goes there?”
“I am Josiah Dumfries the Eleventh, from the Royal Post, and I have come with a message for the queen.”
“Give it to me, and I’ll deliver it.” The guard’s face was red, and his words slurred. He burped, and a putrid smell filled the air.
Mr. Dumfries waved his hand in front of his nose, trying not to cough. “No, sir, this message is for the queen. I must deliver it myself.”
The guard sneered. “Go away, old man. The queen is busy. She doesn’t have time for stories.”
“But this is important.”
The guard’s tone was nasty. “You peasants think everything is important. Did little Bobby say a new word yesterday? Did your hens stop laying? Did you forget to put dye in your batch of cloth? Or is your neighbor complaining again?”
Mr. Dumfries began to get angry. “This is a matter of life and death. Prince Ezra is in danger. The kingdom is being invaded!”
The guard sneered. “You’ve lost more than your good looks, Gramps. Go back to your rocking chair.”
Mr. Dumfries pounded on the door in frustration. “I’m telling the truth. Even as we speak, a great evil is coming to Nelsonia.”
“Yeah? And how would you know?”
“A cat told me.”
Inside the guardhouse there was a moment of silence, and then the air rang with howls of laughter.
“Enough lies,” said the guard. “Now be off, or I’ll throw you in the dungeon.”
Mr. Dumfries knew all about the dungeon from his grandson’s stories. He slumped as he turned from the castle gate and trudged back down the street.
Carol Nicolas 