Percival and his friends spent much of the day relaxing. They were not disturbed by the Warlocks again for the rest of the day, and they were left to eat, drink, and be merry for the rest of the day.
Percival and Basil gorged themselves on the food that, miraculously, seemed to replenish itself. Breakfast gave way to coffee and snacks, which gave way to lunch. Lunch gave way to high tea, and this finally yielded to dinner.
Coffee and cognac followed, and then, Bless Ye God of the Heavens, there was supper! Percival and Basil were feeling quite happy with the day, and their appetitite seemed boundless. Their good humour increased with the passing of the day, and their hands slowly started to massage their stomachs, which were slowly beginning to resemble a smooth convex surface. If anyone were to peep below their shirts, they would see bellies that were soft and pink, glowing gently with a happiness that had not been felt in a long, long time.
Their wives picked at their food. While they did not starve themselves, they they did not gorge like their husbands. They seemed to have a much higher concern for the shape of their figures than their husbands had for theirs. They sat with each other, talking and laughing in low tones. They seemed to be in good humour indeed. Maybe, they had a sense of what would come to be.
Bardor and his friends ate and drank well, but they too generally kept to themselves, talking in low tones again. They looked thoughtful indeed.
Sally and Thyme were, as usual, engrossed in each other. They day was a great one for them. They sat alone together in a corner, kissing, hugging and stroking each other. The day, for them, was intended to be filled in a romantic haze.
Yet time marches on. Time for romance ends. Quiet conversations die out. Stomachs fill, and can be filled no more.
Percival and Basil let out a huge sigh of relief somewhere close to midnight. They could not remember a day in recent times when they had fed so much, with so much gay abandon, and with such luxury.
Alas! This day was fated to end, and just before the stroke of midnight, the door opened again, and the Warlock King and Queen walked into the room.
They looked across at Jenna and Trix, and merely nodded. They looked at Bardor, and said, "It's time".
Looking at Percival and Basil, they laughed and said, "The Army can march well now, we hope!"
"Where are we going?" asked Thyme, with interest.
"To your home land", answered Queen. "We shall leave now, and shall take shelter close by during the day tomorrow. Tomorrow night, we shall alight quietly, and shall make our attack."
"What shall we do with Blanche, if we find her?", asked Sally.
"We shall kill her", said King.
Percival moaned softly, when he heard this. He had never revealed this to Jenna, but in the days before Bessie, Blanche had been his girlfriend. He had abandoned her for Bessie, and while he retained a soft corner for her, she had never forgiven him for this.
"No time for sentimental daydreams", said Queen. "Blanche will kill you without mercy, especially considering your old history. There is no time for past reminiscences."
Percival stared at her with shock. This was his hidden and forgotten past. He did not know that anyone knew about this at all. Jenna started and glared at him. She looked at him with angry eyes, and Percival knew that he would need to make amends very quickly.
The group soon left, and walked out into a desolate landscape that was being whipped by a fierce, cold wind. Walking was difficult, as the wind was blowing against them, and every step was an effort.
Food was soon forgotten, but for a lingering sense of regret.
"At this rate, we will have soon digested everything that we ate", grumbled Basil, "and it will soon be time to eat again."
They struggled for more than an hour to reach the ship, during which time Percival kept trying to help Jenna along. This was his way of trying to make up with her, but she kept slapping his hand away. She was clearly angry at this discovery of his old love affair, and would take a whole night of Percival pleading on his knees before she would forgive him, and give him a kiss of love again.
Trix kept poking Basil in his stomach and kept laughing at him, as they struggled along the path into the boat that was to take them on their journey.
When they reached the pier, they split into two groups. The original six boarded The Raven that had been moored there, and was waiting patiently for them.
The rest boarded the ship that belonged to the Warlocks, and was called WarCry.
Finally, they were on board. The night had turned cold, and an icy rain was starting to come down on them. By the time they boarded the ships, they were soaked to the skin, and were freezing. Yet, they had barely had the time to settle in, when the boats started to sail off into the choppy waters.
The fates did not seem to look upon their departure kindly, as they were tossed up and down on the heaving ocean waves.
Percival was having a hard time staying on his knees. The tossing ship kept throwing him left, right and up. Finally, after one particularly strong lurch, Percival was tossed up into the air, and he landed on his rear end with a thump, Jenna finally relented.
Holding his hand, she helped him up. Giving him a tight hug, a passionate kiss, she said "I love you, my dear".
Basil, on the other hand, was rolling about and groaning, wishing he had never eaten so much. It did not help that Trix kept giggling at him and calling him a fat tub of lard.
Finally, the sea calmed down, and day broke. They found themselved moored at a small island, close to home...




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