The Escape of the Princesses of Palomar

They cluster close, riding bareback across the jeweled soil. Folderol guides Juniper, and they, the six princesses of Palomar, lock legs over the smooth flesh of the Royal Jumper. Eliana is clutched in Folderol’s arms, secure and sure.

Ahead, the dangers abound. The first obstacle, the greatest: The journey across the Grand Desert of Trumpocalypse. It will be fraught with unknowns. Folderol admits to having crossed its deadly clime but once.

“I was a child,” he had told them, “and my eyes were often closed. My father protected me from the sight of so many dangers, the Bottomless Bog of the Trumpocalypse, the sudden and frequent squalls of sand, the terrible tsunami sands that storm higher than the great pyramids of Egypt. Oh, if I had not been such an obedient child, I would be a more practiced guide.”

Eliana asked him why he lamented so. “Folderol, in our eyes, you have never been a coward. Even now, you risk everything to take us to safety. You obeyed your father. That is to be commended.”

“Your people have spoken, my princess. They have risen up and chosen a new King. Will he be as ruthless, as careless as his suggest? Only in the north, where the people are level and reasoned will you be safe. I will do what must be done to safely escort you and your sisters.”

And so, the adventure began.

This is this weeks contribution toe Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction challenge #26: A journey. The illustrator is John Bauer and what a short and ultimately tragic life he had.

 

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