Mad Mad March

This past week, I participated in a fun little contest among Sunflower Publishing writers. We divided into teams of three members, and our fearless leader/contest organizer laid out the rules: Each team was tasked with writing a story starting from a common prompt. Each member of the team wrote a 300-word piece of story (exactly 300 words; no more, no less). The diabolical twist? Team members did not know the order in which their sections would be assembled until the morning of competition.

Yes, that’s right, we had to write a coherent story that would make sense regardless of the order in which the chunks were read. And, oh, yeah, we each had a list of obscure vocabulary we had to include in our sections.

Great fun!

In the end, our team lost in the final round by one vote. Rats.

Here’s the intro to our story plus my contribution to it.

Everybody assembled at the court of the Queen of Diamonds. There had been the wildest rumors about the bump, the scandal, the falcon and the body and now, perhaps, it would all become clear.

Or not, Magus thought, rubbing his hands together. He’d seen it all before: The King’s accusations, Jack’s improbable defense, Joker’s scheming.

The Queen’s words echoed across the vast chamber.

“By royal decree, we find…”

Magus surveyed the chamber. Pathetic creatures, with their pathetic belief that the fate of the kingdom rested on what happened next.

The Queen’s mouth opened, her next words on the tip of her tongue.

Snap! With a flip of his fingers, Magus re-wound time, then sat back to see what twists would arise when the scene played out again. The Royals were so easy to manipulate.

Magus conjured a cup of wassail and settled back to watch the show. Again. Steam rose from the cup, just as steam rose from the newly dead body at the Queen’s feet.

“I demand answers, Jack!” said King, his face crimson in outrage. “How could you slay the one sonneteer worth his salt in this kingdom and bring scandal to this court?”

“Slay him? Scandal? Is it my fault he fell on my poniard? The man was clumsy, in both feet and rhyme. You would do better to look to Magus here to immortalize you in verse.”

Minor courtiers laughed at the magician’s expense. Let them have their joke, he thought as he sipped his wine. Let them laugh. They wouldn’t be laughing for long.

“Enough.” The Queen looked weary. An unfortunate side effect of Magus’s little game? “I tire of your foolishness, and I tire of this body displayed in my court as if it were no more than a bump in the carpet. Remove the sonneteer and bring me my palfrey and my falcon. I shall have my afternoon outing as planned.”

“My Queen,” Joker began, his wheedling voice grating on Magus. Something in the fool’s look aggravated him, as if somehow the Joker was on to his little game. Mayhap he should have the bootlicker banished from the court.

Joker continued. “Would it not be…prudent to resolve this nefarious business first? I fear dark forces,” he cut an accusing glance toward the magician’s corner, “are at work in your kingdom.”

“Dark forces?” The Queen scoffed. “My court is full of fools. Your ‘dark forces,’ King’s accusations, Jack’s assertion of the sonneteer’s complicity in his own death. They are all so predictable.”

As were the Queen’s protests, thought Magus. Maybe the next revision would prove more entertaining.

Snap.