The Battle of 1543

The Battle of 1543

I look out my window in adoration of my beautiful land. It was 1543 when the ‘Battle Between Cats and Dogs’ arose. No one knew why we were such rivals... I guess it all started when the jester broke into the castle. He was a young fellow; bright, quite handsome, but also the prankster of the century. He used to sneak into the castle at nights with the intention of using our place as an inn. I would go to the basement at night to lock the doors, never trusting that the guards did it right. The cat might have been clever, but he never used the lavatory and just urinated right on the floor. That was the last straw; I had the end of it. I stormed up to the study, slamming the door as my dimwitted brother scurried to place down an eggshell colored piece of paper, so I could write a letter declaring war to the cats. 

The next morning the sky was dark and gloomy and my empty, dark, room felt more like a chamber. 

“Good morning sir; it’s your brother... Ollie?” 

Of course I remembered my own brother’s name. I was the king, not an imbecile.

“I have your tea.” Ollie remarked when I just sighed.

“The cat didn’t come again last night.”

My little brother was no Genius, but he did have a good memory.

“I’m sorry brother. I haven’t been with it this week. Suppose I’m getting old.” I said sadly 

My brother just scrunched his face and nodded.

“Yes, you are turning six this year.” He remarked 

I thought about this for a long time in silence.

“What does ‘what’s his face, the king of cats’ think about the war?”

I seriously don’t know his name, or I forgot it. A man really should know his own rival’s name. Ollie pulls out the morning paper.

“Hmmm, ‘Cat is Disgusted by King Waffle’s Lack of Manners and Short Temper’.”

“Trash Mail” he says, putting the papers aside to put sugar into my tea.

Like I said, he has a great memory, therefore he knows exactly how much sugar I want in my tea.

“I believe the King’s name was Charles.” Ollie said in thought.

“Ha! Charles, what a idiotic name.” I said out loud but secretly wishing it was mine.

We walk to the garden, past the grave of my great grandmother. Ah, she lived a long life, being known as the Duchess of Peace. She was known and loved as Dorfy Ham Ham.

I loved Dorfy; well at least what I heard about her. She was a sweet young lady, not exactly a damsel in distress, but not opposed to it. She died nobly riding into battle against the squirrels. 

I walk past her, heading to our fountain in the Butterfly Garden to clear my mind. 

“Brother, who will take your place when you die?”

I know Ollie doesn’t even want to be king, but I can’t help but feel a hint of betrayal. 

I sigh, “I suppose you will have to, unless I find a little lady to rule with me by my side. If not, you are required to.”

He nods sadly, not wanting to be in charge but understanding exactly what I’m talking about. 

I look at him with tears in my eyes, feeling less like a man than ever. 

“Is a war good for us?” I ask. “I mean is it the right choice?”

Ollie closes his eyes and rubs his head. 

“Not my first choice brother, but what do I know about being king.”

Ollie looks me in the eyes and almost reads my thoughts.

Ollie knows exactly what I want. He knows I want to call off the war, but it doesn’t work like that. You can’t just call off a war whenever you want. I look down at the floor, deep in thought, and search my brain to see if there is anything I can do to call off the reckless decision I made last night. I’m almost on to something when a palace guard runs up to me. He is out of breath but tells me that the cats are at the castle doors and about to attack and that I should follow him to the maids’ quarter.

I run down the hallway, my brother by my side. I wish I could say there was silence in the castle, but there was anything but that. Screams from women and pups drown out the peacefulness of the rustic castle. Ollie stops suddenly.

“I have to help them,” he mutters. I scowl.

“Ollie! Hero up later! We have to get to the maids’ quarters!”

“No!” He shouts frantically, looking for the nearest exit. By now I’m practically dragging him through parts of the palace I have never seen before.

“Brother! Snap out of it! If all your people die then you have no one to rule!”, he screams.

He has a point, but I’m not letting my only last living relative stand there and die. He eventually gets out of my grasp and starts running toward the screams. I love my brother dearly, but if some people do survive then my job is to lead them, so I raise my brows in disappointment and start walking faster to the maids’ quarters.

A few minutes later I see a guard making a fast run through the hallways to try and lose the cat who was chasing him with a sword. I walk a little faster, trying not to make eye contact with the cat. He unfortunately sees me and laughs.

“Waffle?” He asks. 

Despite me knowing better, I look him in the eyes and notice the stupid smirk on his face.

“I don’t know who you are, but you shall call me King Waffle.” I pronounce, quite annoyed that any cat would even think to talk to me. He laughs.

“Oh I’m sorry your highness.” He says with a goofy bow. 

“I’m Henry, but you may know me as ‘Horrible Henry’.” He said slyly. I have no clue who this kid is, but I lie to prevent my self from looking like a moron. He must see the blank expression on my face because he sighs.

 “I’m the gentlemen who comes in at night to use your... shabby old place as an inn.”

‘Of course!’ I think, enraged at how much of an idiot I am. This place isn’t shabby, but that’s hardly the point right now. 

“What is your business?” I ask with a look of disgust on my face.

He frowns, “Mhm... I suppose I have your last living relative captured, so maybe don’t speak to me like that.” 

“ I’m only giving him back if you hand over the crown to me, so I can be king. If you don’t, there is a nice looking gentlemen in Missouri who will pay quite a price for him.” I’m astonished; flabbergasted if you will. Why does this have to happen? I think almost crying now. I close my eyes hoping and praying it’s all a dream. I give a slight nod, sorrowful and angry. 

“Excellent!” He replies.

“I’ll bring him in. I bet he is dying to see you!” 

I stand there as the cat makes an exit to go get my brother as I feel more lost and hopeless than I have ever felt in my life.