The Avian Adviser

All hail the king, and hail him well, if you know what is good for you.

He was firm, but also fair…ly annoyed and predisposed to executions. He had to rule the kingdom, keep the order and keep an assortment of ancient secret evils from being unleashed into the world at any given moment. Take the orcs, for example. Few people knew orcs existed, but the king did. He had a whole castle dedicated to the purpose of repelling them. The point is, he was very busy and did not really have the time to be dealing with the more mundane tasks of royalty. Specifically, choosing suiters for his two daughters.

That is where the budgie came in.

The king was a hard and practical man but he had a soft spot for the budgie. Every week, a procession of suiters would come visit the king, ask to court one of the princesses (sometimes the more brazen suitor would ask to court both) and the king would turn to his budgie. The budgie would look at the suitor, climb the king’s arm, and whisper in his ear. The king would nod and say ‘hmm’ a lot, before his face turned grave, and he ordered the suitor be cast out, or in extreme cases, be executed.

The royal court revered and feared the small blue bird who, unbeknownst to all of them, was named Muffin (a name chosen by his youngest, who was particularly fond of birds). Muffin was particularly feared and despised by failed and future suiters alike. For those sentenced to execution, this fear was very short lived.

It was well known that budgies could talk, but could only mimic select phrases they had heard and they certainly did not know the meaning of them. The king must be mad, listening to a bird that had probably heard someone say ‘off with their head’, or ‘not good enough to marry the princess’. That is what many thought; others considered that maybe this was a magical budgie that could speak and was an excellent judge of character. Either way, the suiters knew the bird was standing in their way to marrying into a cushy life.

By day, the budgie was with the king, and hence was untouchable. But by night, he was housed in a special aviary. There was only one guard on the door, and every man had his price.

Alexander was a well-to-do man about town, and he was going to marry the princess. Those other suiters were idiots; he knew all he had to do was get rid of the damn bird and the king would be forced to decide for himself. Alexander was handsome and women adored him, so wooing the princess would be a cinch. He even flattered himself that he could play the part of the useful, doting son-in-law, so the king would be putty in his hands too. As a noble, he knew that money made the world go round and he had cash to burn. He visited the local tavern that was frequented by all kinds of lowly commoners, including the guard who watched the insufferable bird.

He bought him a few drinks to loosen him up, gave him the old charm and persuaded him to turn a blind eye when he visited the aviary. The old fool agreed for only 5 silver pieces. This was almost too easy. That evening he approached the aviary and the guard looked around for onlookers, then nodded and took a walk around the perimeter. The door was unlocked.

Alexander slipped inside.

Damn.

No wonder the guard had not charged so much; someone else was here. He recognised the man as Lord Christopher: a well-known and well-liked moron. Too stupid to be a threat, too affluent to be over looked. Alexander withdrew into the shadows. His lordship had not noticed and was stood at the far end of the room talking to someone. After a moment watching and listening, it became apparent the fool was actually talking to the bird.

“So, as you can see, I am well suited to royalty and would make a perfect husband to Miss Elizabeth and of course an excellent future king. Thank you for your time and consideration.” He then bowed and hastily retreated, walking within inches of Alexander without even realising it.

This was what passed for a lord in this city, Alexander thought to himself. Slow, unobservant and actually prostrating himself before a damn bird. Such an intellectually challenged boob, (Alexander was running out of words for unintelligent person). Now alone, save for his avian target, he could see behind the bars that the dumb-dumb had been pressed up against, was a small space, then a small cage, with a moonlit silhouette of a small bird.

Alexander drew his crossbow, took aim and loosed his bolt.

Click. Shoosh. Thud.

The poor creature was skewered, embedded in the rear wall.

That is how a king would act.

Ruthless.

He stole away into the night, the guard not noticing his departure. Poor sod would probably be punished for his incompetence. Rightfully so, Alexander thought.

The very next day he entered court for another round of suiter selection.

He awaited his turn. A rather sad and dejected suiter exited the royal chamber, effort wasted, it would seem. He had only been rejected, not sentenced to death, which was practically a win.

Alexander strut into the royal chamber, head held high, elated to see the absence of the budgie. He made his case and even opted to ask to court the youngest daughter, Catherine. She was a safer bet and there was no need to go for the crown just yet.

The king nodded as he listened. Once Alexander had given his sales pitch, the king clicked his fingers. A small cage was brought out. Inside sat a very healthy, very unperforated budgie. To his credit, Alexander did not even flinch. The budgie looked him up and down, then crawled up his master’s arm and whispered in the king’s ear.

“Oh, oh really? Well, that is a shame.”

Two heavy hands landed on Alexander’s shoulders as two guards materialised behind him.

“What? No! I don’t understand! What did he say? What did he say?!” Alexander was already being dragged away for execution.

“Trying to assassinate a bird, very low. And failing at it! Very embarrassing.” The king chuckled.

“How? I- no, wait, wait!” His pleading receded into silence as the next now very nervous suiter entered.

It was Lord Christopher. He made his case and asked to date the beautiful Elizabeth, and all things considered, the speech was very moving.

The king listened, then began the same act. His little budgie would crawl up his arm and whisper the same thing it always said in his ear.

“Ooo, who’s a good birdy? Who’s a good birdy? Yes, yes, yes, ooooo….”

“Oh!”, replied the king, “Bribing a guard to let you converse with a bird? Very underhanded and not very bright.” Lord Christopher, shocked at being exposed, left rejected but alive. It would be several weeks before he could show his face in court again.

No more men brave and/or stupid enough to apply today. Next week, there would be more. There always was. The king told the budgie what a good job he had done. The budgie did not understand the words but appreciated the soft tone and later appreciated the seed it was given.

In the aviary, the guard who watched its door and the guard that hid inside to watch what happed each night were struggling to pull the cuddly stuffed budgie and the crossbow bold running through it out of the wall. A bit of elbow grease and a bit of stitching later, and the scene was set. Just in time; they had another suiter already booked in for tonight.