Baseball Theme Week comes to its conclusion with scribblings involving: padres. Or, in my case at least, the padre.
Apologies to Greg, by the way. I should have known you'd not have had any idea what was coming next. Perhaps next time I can do a Premier League theme week... though then I would probably end up not knowing what I was writing about every single day of it!
Garlic is almost done, just a couple of crates left to clean up. Becky and I (mostly Becky, I was also running errands) took care of twenty-one pounds worth of them this morning. Which is a whole lot of garlic.
All set for our farmers market harvest tomorrow morning, and the sun should be out there to join us for the first time in several days.
Padre Diego smiled a wide, gap-toothed grin at his hosts and scratched his backside vigorously. Aside from the harsh fabric of his horribly uncomfortable robe, he did not appear to have a care in the world.
"Ah yes," he replied, his words infused with the smell of cheap church wine. "I am so looking forward to discussing the grand success of our mission!"
Success? one angel breathed.
Our? another hissed.
"Of course!" Padre Diego waddled forward, arms spread wide as though a hug was imminent. "The mariners I hired found our dear missing pirate and -"
King Tobias' forgotten brother was many things, the male angel interrupted with a smirk. A pirate, a proper one at any rate, was not one of them.
"Whatever." Padre Diego shrugged this away as he would a beggar asking for alms. "He is on his way home, first to see us and then to take his place on the throne as our puppet king."
The priest wriggled his fingers and giggled as he watched his imaginary marionette dance for him. He did not notice the look exchanged between the three angels. Nor did he see the black smoke coalescing around his feet.
The king's brother...
... Lightning Beard, as he fancied himself...
... is resting at the bottom of the sea.
"What?" The blood drained from Padre Diego's face with alarming speed.
Throat slit by his rescuing captain. The man you employed.
"Ivan? Why would that idiot do such a thing?"
The other giant captains The Nameless.
It would seem that he is smart enough to fool you.
Or at least, unlike you, he is able to sense a mistake when he sees one.
Though to be fair, the twins helped make the final call.
"I don't know what you're going on about." The priest tried to back away but found himself unable to move. Looking down he saw black smoke swirling around his waist with increasing velocity. "What is the meaning of this?"
Prince Matthew will be king.
You have failed us.
"What? No! There is still time! The royals trust me yet! I can bring that whelp to our side. Give me a year or two and -"
The Boy King would see through your clumsy lies.
It has been foreseen.
And your shortcomings cannot be allowed to pass without punishment.
"Now hold on!" Padre Diego's eyes bulged as the smoke reached his chest. "If anyone should bear the brunt of this... failure... it's those bloody sailors! If they'd just done what they should have then -"
But the dark angels had heard enough. Without a word or change of expression from any of them the smoke funneled upward and into the priest's mouth, like water rushing down the throat of a drowning man.
And just like that, Padre Diego was no more.