Septimity and The Blood Brotherhood: The Third Hilarious Glothic Tale (The Glothic Tales Book 3) Read Free Page B

ten year old boy with the mentality of a three-year old was ever going to become the Supreme Potentate of Gloth. But then again, he had thought that about the last five, who all had serious problems up in the attic. This one though was promising to be the maddest by far.
    Perhaps it was the way April looked at people that gave the impression he was a little odd. With his right green eye set in a rigid stare and his hazel left eye permanently rotating in a circular motion, it was almost impossible to tell what he was looking at. The reluctance of his eyes to blink also bothered some people. His nose was normal however; for a Gregorian that is. Long, prominent and seemingly a tad too wide for the space available between his eyes. Unlike Gregorians however, April was short by any standard. Not a midget, but somewhere between extremely short and a dwarf would be accurate enough. His hair was blond, a little to long and curly to be called masculine, but probably what bothered people most was a rather disturbing lump on his left shoulder. Even with the skill of the palace tailors this lump couldn’t be completely hidden. While some believed it to be the stump of a second head removed at birth, others thought it may have been the remnants of a third arm. Most believed the first assumption. The lump however did draw attention away from the fact that April had five fingers and one thumb on his left hand, and two thumbs and six fingers on his right. However, very few people were aware of his toe count.
    Luckily, with an annoying habit of poking out his tongue when asked even questions as simple as ‘How are you?’ and his total refusal to shake hands with anyone at all, very few people ever had the chance to conduct a digit census. One quality in his favour though was that he had a rather deep, rich, pleasant sounding voice for a child, which although he rarely used in company, still seemed to surprise people if they were lucky enough to hear him speak – instead of simply scream.
    *****
    Kcrikklli Kcaapaak didn’t rush to join April and his mother January for breakfast. As he dressed he wondered why he continued in his job, with his role now descending to that of a well-dressed child minder of raving lunatics instead of the trusted employee of the most powerful man in the entire Twelve Sun Systems. However he turned his mind instead to the few years of service he had left before being eligible for his generous palace retirement benefit. Checking himself one last time in the mirror before leaving for work, he noticed the lines on his face were beginning to tick down the months and years. ‘Oh well, at least this one is toilet trained,’ he thought as he left.
    ‘Good morning m’am.’
    ‘Good morning Kcrikklli.’
    ‘Good morning April sir.’
    ‘The milk’s too hot!’
    ‘Yes, well just wait a moment,’ January said just before April launched the bowl of Kiddlepops from the table with a fling of his right hand.
    ‘Chef is an imbecile!’
    ‘Yes, very well sir. I’ll have him prepare a new bowl for you.’
    ‘That wasn’t very nice April,’ January scolded her son, but April decided poking his tongue back at her was the most appropriate response. Kcaapaak continued making his way towards the kitchen, passing a kitchen hand on his way out to clean up April’s jettisoned bowl.
    ‘Another bowl?’
    ‘Yes Chef, as usual.’
    ‘Ready and waiting.’
    ‘How many mornings has this been now chef?’
    ‘I think he’s only missed one day in the last month,’ Chef replied with a big grin.
    ‘Oh well, off I go then,’ Kcaapaak said as he picked up the tray with the new serving. ‘I can only hope he chokes to death on it.’
    ‘Maybe a dash of something lethal in his cereals?’
    ‘Pleasant thought Chef, but murdering the Potentate in waiting is probably classed as a criminal offence.’
    ‘Only by some.’
    ‘Yes Chef, probably only by a very few in fact,’ he muttered as he walked off slowly to the dining room.