Friday, July 20, 2007

Sir Doon writes to his Brother...

In the year of Our Lorde 544.

To Sir Madoc ap Mawn, the Manor of the Black Hills, Kyngedom of Devon, be this lettre tayke.

Oy there bruvver! The uppytye clerke says I got to be all formal at the beginnyne of this lettre as its wot Kynge Arthur wants for all such lettres a comin' from Camelot. I wanted to strangyle the punye little clerke bastarde, like I did the last tyme I had one of 'em scratch a letter to ye, but the guards here wont have none o' that, not like up norf where ye can kick 'em around a bit for fun.

Anyhoo. I gots big news, bruvver! I captured theat ryte Bastarde Kyng Mark of Cornwall. He wert up te no good an deep into Kyng Arthur's lands. Parbly makin' parly wit te Saxons, is wot I think. Well, I wert on me way to a Tourney like, ryding with my good companyons Sir Lancreas, Sir Gerin, and my sponsor, His Right Worshypful Master, Leodigrance the Lesser, Marshall of Salisbury. My good friend Sir Bradwen wert off doin' deep religious thyngs up norf, I think. Well, we thawt we saw a group of bandits on te Kyng's Hiway and so we set up after 'em through the trees. We notyces theys got Cornish markings and colors, and you know how I git when I see Cornishmen. Sir Lancreas and Sir Gerin and even ol' Leodigrance fawt like true knights, they did. I dont member much, tell te truth bruvver, jus' lots of blood and Cornishmen with no heads. Finally Leodigrance and I catch up te the last two and I notice tha one was protectin te other, like his life depended on it. Tha's 'cause the one wert Kyng Mark hisself! An so I step right up and kills his protector like I used to chop te heads off the slawter pigs before Wynter. Then I says, all proper like, "In te name of Kyng Erbin and Kyng Arthur surrender or die!" or somfin' like as such. I wanted to tayke his head fer a trophy an send it to yer missus as a present, but thawt better and let 'im live. Also, Leodigrance wernt too keen on me killyng a kynge, and so we take Mark back to Camelot.

Turns out I get to keep the ransom for kynge Mark! Tha's right bruvver, I, Sir Doon of Devon, Knight of the White Hen, Third Son of Mawn am about to become a rich man. I may even try to get some land in Devon frm King Erbin. Won't tha be a hoot, bruvver? We'll be right neighbors, and I'll even let you tie me up and hit me wit a sack o' apples like we did when we wert wee ones, playin' in te fields. Member? Aye, bryngs a tear to my eye, bruvver.

Well, I been courtin' a heavy now tha I'm famous, an all Queen Guenevere's maidens are in heat fer me. I needs a wyfe and sons, and now I can be pickey bout who I rut wit. No more dirty sows for me. Only right ladyes.

So, I wish ye te best of health and give me best to te missus.

Your Doon

Oh my.

You can take Doon out of the country, but...
Hey! And no mention of "big 'uns."
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