Letitia Uncrowned

By Trevor Veale

Letitia and Godfrey Gorm are retired monarchs living lives of Caribbean tranquility in Tobago, but when Melloria, their former kingdom, is invaded by Slobodia they fly back to join the fight against the invaders. Capture and incarceration follow, made worse for Letitia by being forced to watch hours of TV soaps and quiz shows in her prison cell.
Her rescue by Live-Action Role Players disguised as dreaded Slobodian prets brings little relief since Godfrey is missing. He has been flown to the lair of Royston Slovo, Slobodia's new megalomaniac leader, and is forced to witness atrocities inflicted by Royston on a female prisoner to make him accept the role of Melloria's puppet king.
He suffers a physical collapse without agreeing to the role and is left to rot in a dungeon.
A daring rescue by the role-playing Sons of Nordik reunites him with his wife and sons in exile in Bulimia.
Along with King Craig and his mother Sharon, also in exile, they watch as the underdog Mellorians slowly but surely win their freedom by strikes which hamstring the Slobodian army and musical and sexual inducements which sap its morale.
Royston's plan to plunder unlimited supplies of oil from within the Mellorian Fissure proves to be the Slobodians' nemesis. First he is the object of a Mellorian 'self-assassination' and then his successor, Queen Latrina, is lost in a gigantic conflagration at the Fissure Well - a catastrophe that leaves Letitia, flying back to Tobago with Godfrey, in life-or-death limbo.
'Letitia Uncrowned' is the second novel in the Letitia trilogy. the first, 'Letitia Unbound' is already available.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trevor Veale
• Release date: Jan 20, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301896264

Trevor Veale

I began writing horror stories at age eight after stuffing myself full of comic book dread. I now see myself as one of the heralds of coming good (an expression first coined by G.I.Gurdjieff). There are many of us and our aim is to uplift and inspire hope in others that the world will not end in apocalyptic dystopia (dyspepsia, maybe), but turn out pretty darn well in the end. Of course, in the meantime... In the meantime, read my novel 'Letitia Unbound' for a thrilling adventure with plenty of chuckles.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Shock In The Night

Letitia Gorm lay gazing at a thin blade of sunlight yellowing the edges of her curtains, She had spent a night of anxious worrying and fretting and didn’t sleep until close to dawn, and then only for what seemed like a few minutes. The sunlight was growing painfully bright, so she decided to break the habit of a lifetime and get up early.

She slipped out of bed and went over to the window to pull the curtains together. Outside, through a gap in the bourgainvillea, mimosa and vines, she caught sight of a woman in shorts and a suntop walking a pair of beagles. Beagles in Tobago! She was sharply reminded of the cool misty mornings she had looked out her bedchamber window and spied Sharon the maid vainly struggling to bring a brace of beagles to heel in the courtyard of Calliper Palace.

Letitia felt a premonition pass through her. What was that awful dream about? All she could recall was being outdoors and noticing Dawna buying a yellow rose and a spray of babies’ breath from a street vendor. Her back was turned and when Letitia accosted her, she was confronted by Lucinda. It was all very odd and a little disturbing, and she was reassured by the fragrant tropical scents her bedroom window admitted.

I must get a grip, she told herself. Then she shuffled to the bathroom, dropping bedclothes along the way, and broke another lifelong habit by running the bath for a long soak instead of showering.

Godfrey Gorm awoke from a restless night’s sleep filled with disquieting thoughts. He got out of bed, put on his dressing-gown and walked into Letitia’s bedroom. He noticed the rumpled sheets and the trail of scattered night attire leading to the bathroom door, then he heard the sound of water gushing.

He knocked on the bathroom door.

Can I come in? he ventured.

What? Letitia’s voice called sharply.

May I come in! he said, a little more firmly.

I can’t hear you! she cried.

Please may I come in! he shouted.

I’m in the bath! she screamed.

Exasperated, he opened the door a fraction. Embarrassed by what he saw, he shut it quickly. The red mark of her bra strap just below her shoulder blades and the long notch of her spine flowing down to the swell of her buttocks, as she knelt in the slowly filling tub, blazed in his mind.

Mortified and ashamed at the thought of walking in on his wife in a state of nature, he moved away from the bathroom door and ran a hand through his thinning hair. He noticed an open box of chocolates on her nightstand. It had been a gift from Sir Michael and Lady Caine, whom the Gorms had dined with the night before. Godfrey took an Irish cream truffle from the second layer after verifying that the chocolates in the top layer, mostly raspberry creams and caramels, weren’t the kind he liked. His plundering, and the risk of incurring his wife’s displeasure, didn’t faze him. He was too distracted by the disturbing thoughts that had carried over from the night. His choice made, he turned on his heel and went to the kitchen to make breakfast.

When he returned, Letitia was back in bed propped up on her three pillows. He set the brimming breakfast tray down and perched himself at the foot of the bed, the tray between them.

Before I went to sleep last night, I watched a bit of CNN on the cable TV… he began.

She raised her eyebrows. He’s ruining his sleep with pointless news programs, she thought.

Anyway, he continued, selecting three slices of toast from the rack, there was a news flash about Slobodia. It seems old Slobbo’s been assassinated.

She drank a third of her first cup of lemon tea before replying.

Good riddance!

Well, yes, but it means Royston is now King of Slobodia.

That’s not good news, she admitted, taking the remaining slice of toast. He’s evil.

They carried on eating in silence. Godfrey was on his third cup of coffee when his cell vibrated. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at it to see who was calling.

It’s Cathy, he said. I wonder what he wants at this hour?

It’s not this hour to him. There’s a six hour time lag, she commented.

Godfrey got up and walked toward the door, speaking in anxious bursts. Then he looked at Letitia, his face grim.

What’s up, dear? she asked.

The Slobodians launched an invasion in the dead of night, he said. I’ll have to go back to defend my country.

Her eyes first widened, then became slitlike.

Don’t be ridiculous, you’re retired! she blurted.

A king never retires, he said abruptly. It’s an emergency.

Her eyes began to fill with tears and she groped under her pillows for a tissue. She felt chills up and down her back.

Godfrey, you can’t – you’re too old. You’ll get killed!

His face tightened.

Can I come with you? she asked, timid in the sight of his implacable face.

Why would you want to do that? You might get killed, too.

It came out in a rush. Well, if a king never retires, neither does a queen. I can help defend our country…

Her voice trailed off. What the hell was she thinking? She couldn’t fire a cap gun. She knew, because she’d tried shooting one of Anton’s air soft pistols and had lost the pellet.

Godfrey merely nodded. We’d better start packing our bags.

He went on talking on the cell. Cathy, your mother and I are coming home. We’ll fly into Angina and see if we can get across the Bulimian border. If the army can hold the City one more day –

The phone went dead.

Chapter 2

The Dash To The Border

Letitia and Godfrey dashed through the airport concourse as papparazzi zoomed into action, flashbulbs popping continuously.

What the devil! Godfrey growled, shielding them with his arm from the cameras that were flashing in their faces.

Letitia wheezed irritably. She was wired out after their twelve hours in the air and four hours of layovers. Having to run the gauntlet of papparazzi was the last straw.

Hi, Pops, hi Ma, Prince Anton said. He was lounging with the driver of a white Bentley Continental on the pavement outside the entrance. Have a nice flight? He was wearing a T-shirt with BULIMIA THE BEAUTIFUL on it, faded jeans and scuffed black sneakers. His bleached blond hair was mussed and he looked as if he’d just got out of bed.

You look appalling!Letitia gasped, trying to get her breath back. Who dressed you – a homeless meth addict?

The prince grinned. Close – it was Hernia. Then he straightened when he saw how uptight Godfrey looked.

Can you get us all assault rifles and drive us over the border? Godfrey asked. He thrust the two suitcases he had retrieved from the baggage claim into the driver’s hands.

Uh…well, that’s a tall order, Anton stammered. I’d have to get permission from pops-in-law. He wants to see you first, anyway…

All right, let’s go to Porcellan, Godfrey said, stony-faced. We’d better give our regards to Hector and Ada before we set off.

Right, Anton said sheepishly.

By the time they rolled up to Porcellan Palace, Letitia was feeling invigorated. She always enjoyed the luxury and comfort of a sumptuous forty-four-room palace where everything was organized. There was a lot to be said for good food, good wine and sheets with a high thread count, although she knew the seriousness of the situation they were in. Still, sitting in the back of the Bentley next to Godfrey she felt completely comfortable.

I’ll be looking forward to a long hot soak in the tub, she murmured, glancing at him.

We’re not staying long. His face was still stern. The army may not be able to hold out much longer.

Maybe Cathy, Lucinda and the kids have crossed the border and are safe and sound, she suggested, trying to lighten his mood.

Cathy’s a Gorm, and Gorms never cut and run, he said sharply.

We’ll be with them soon, don’t worry, was all she could say. She felt ashamed in the face of his resolve to fight to the bitter end, although she knew how doomed it was.

Oh my! Letitia exclaimed, taking in her surroundings. This is quite a palace!

Isn’t it just! King Hector said, reining in the golden retriever that had just bounded up to sniff under Letitia’s tailored skirt.

She brushed the dog off and smiled diplomatically.

I’ll have to hand him over to Ada, he puffed. You know, Twinkle used to be Dawna’s dog.

Twinkle! She thought, tempted to make a rude remark. Then she admonished herself. Think well of the dead or not at all.

They were strolling through the atrium that led to the rows of lofty ash trees, charming grottos and classical temples of Porsellan Park, and after handing the dog off to a servant Hector steered her out to the pool. Beside it was a cocktail bar with a brushed aluminum counter and stainless steel and black leather barstools. He quickly skipped behind the bar.

How about a drink? he suggested, watching Letitia slide onto a stool. What can I get you?

I’d love a gin and tonic, she said, wondering how long it would take before he made a move.

It was the perfect place on a perfect evening. Behind the swimming-pool and its ritzy bar, the sweeping wooded hills of Porcellan Park were bathed in all the sweetness of an early August evening. Beyond them, a slender view of twinkling lights on the skyline hid the dazzling carpet of city that was Angina, Bulimia’s capital.

As she sat on her leather stool, sipping her G and T, she waited for Hector to slide in beside her, and dreaded the prospect. He was mixing himself a Napoleon brandy with grenadine and lime juice over ice, and imagining the thrill of easing off her jacket, her blouse, and then unhooking her front-clasp bra. The thought of those jouncing, matronly breasts out in clear view was almost too much for his pants to bear. Groaning quietly, he mentally unbuttoned the waistband of her skirt and watched her wriggling out of it. Then he slid the panties quickly down to her ankles and bade her step out of them. Finally, at long last, he unzipped his straining pants, and then…

His eyes were closed and the hand gripping the cocktail shaker trembled slightly. Rudely, shockingly, his fantasy was interrupted by the wet snout of a golden retriever, nosing up against his crotch. Then by his wife’s loud voice.

Hector, you’re dreaming! Mix me a Mint Julep, will you?

Thank you, Twinkle, Letitia said softly to herself.

Godfrey was closeted in Hector’s study, along with the Bulimian defense minister and the chief of staff of the joint staff council, discussing what form of assistance he could get from the Bulimian armed forces. The problem was, the Bulimian armed force was strictly a self-defense force and by constitutional decree was not permitted to be used abroad. As Slobodia had not declared war on Bulimia or invaded any of its territory, Bulimia’s hands – as the defense minister patiently pointed out – were tied.

Can’t you launch a damn drone strike and take out that bugger, Royston? Godfrey said gruffly, wishing he could plunder the decanter of brandy he saw in a glass-fronted cabinet.

I’m afraid that would be considered a warlike act, the minister said. Our constitution absolutely forbids it.

He was near the end of his tether. He shook his head and made a final plea.

All right, then, dammit, we’ll take an armored car. Anton can drive, Letitia can navigate and I’ll man the cannon.

The minister and the chief of staff laughed in unison.

That kind of military vehicle is out of date, sir, the chief of staff said. You’d only find one in a museum –

Well, what have you got then? he responded wearily.

Our armored personnel carriers are attack vehicles that can’t be deployed abroad… The chief of staff pondered. Let me see…well, we do have an old staff car, without armor but painted in olive drab.

Fine, we’ll take it, he said. Now let’s call in Hector and have a drink.

King Hector, who had excluded himself from the meeting so as not to influence his minister and commander in chief into showing bias toward his friend, ex-King Godfrey of Melloria, stood outside the door of his study. At a call from within, he entered and immediately brought out the brandy decanter and four glasses.

Drinks, everybody? he asked brightly. Godfrey sighed with relief.

Are you sure there’s nothing more we can offer to make your journey more comfortable? Hector said as the first round of brandies went down.

Godfrey shrugged. He felt drained and exhausted. He’d talked himself out, arguing for military assistance, and just wanted some grub and a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow, when he was fresh, when he could get his head together, he would know what to ask for.

Queen Ada turned to Letitia at the dinner table as the first platters were being served.

Hector and I simply adore Tobago, she gushed. We flew there for a wedding anniversary, oh, ten years ago. Marvellous beaches!

I don’t do beaches any more, Letitia replied, scooping a spoonful of lobster ceviche. There are too many commoners, er, tourists about.

– and the Caribbean food! Ada gushed on, unabated. D’you remember that time you had red snapper and fried plantain on the sunset cruise, Hector, and I had freshly-caught tuna in a spicy jerk sauce?

Hector burped a reply. He and Godfrey ate ravenously, tearing into each enticing platter. They ate so fast the greasy plates piled up faster than the servants could remove them, much to Letitia’s disgust. Not feeling it was her place to chastise the servants, she changed the subject of the conversation.

One thing about living in the tropics, she said, is it’s lovely to have people round for dinner outdoors by candlelight with a bottle of Dom Perignon. Last night the Caines came round, she added. Godfrey and I love Michael’s films, but I’ve no idea what his wife does.

Under a soaring ceiling painted with blue skies and cherub-infested, puffy white clouds, the meal continued in the gleam of a dozen gilt chandeliers. The minister and the chief of staff had left for their respective homes and Anton and Hernia had yet to arrive, so Hector, Ada, Godfrey and Letitia dined in well-serviced splendor

What’s the latest news about Catheter, Lucinda and the kids? Hector asked. I tried to call Cathy on his cell, but all I got was his voice mail.

Haven’t got a clue, Godfrey replied. I’ve been trying to get through since early this morning, but my luck’s been no better than yours.

Oh, I do hope our grandson is safe and well – and the others too, of course! Ada trilled.

Well, I’ve instructed our ambassador in Melloria City to tell the Slobodian Military Command in no uncertain terms that Catheter and his family must be given a safe passage to Bulimia, Hector added sternly.

This worrying turn in the conversation prompted Letitia to change the subject yet again.

Lucinda started writing to me a few weeks ago, she said brightly. She’s been telling me about her wedding plans – but I suppose they’ll have to be put on hold now…

Her voice trailed off as Prince Anton and Princess Hernia clattered in. Anton was wearing the same T-shirt and jeans he wore at the airport, and Hernia’s clothes consisted of her torn, black SATAN’S SEX SLAVE T-shirt, skinny jeans and black unpolished nails. Her tattooed arms showed a vulture eating the carcass of a deer on one arm and lurid scenes involving wild boar on the other. Letitia gagged on her boar bourguignon.

Hey, wassup! Anton said breezily, barging through the dining-hall doors and slamming them before the servant could shut them properly. Hernia had earphones on and Letitia could hear the rumbling chords of Screenager leaking out.

I wish you’d both come to dinner on time, Hector said, in a mild voice that was meant to sound stern. You know we have guests this evening.

"We’re so sorry, Hernia told him with a surly pout, talking loudly through the music in her ears. Fact is, Anton got pulled over by the law for speeding, and I had to use all my princessly charms to get him off the hook."

Anton shrugged. "And how were we to know there were four cops in the second patrol car that showed up – and she had to do them all!"

That’s quite enough of that sort of talk! Ada commanded, almost as mildly as Hector. Let’s have some decorum at the dinner table.

Hear, hear! Letitia agreed.

While Anton and Hernia fought over who would have the first steaming platter of venison borne by an incoming servant, Letitia ate with little enthusiasm. She was as much concerned about the fate of Cathy and his family as the others, and wished she could extract something hopeful from the situation.

Meanwhile she bridled at the sight of Hernia and the three males swinishly stuffing their faces with roast venison, quail chasseur and boar bourguignon and tossing back glasses of claret without a care in the world.

You should eat more slowly – you’ll give yourselves heart attacks! she admonished.

Nonsense! Godfrey shouted, looking up from his plate. My father lived to be ninety and he ate like an elephant.

Just remember what your doctor said about overeating, she persisited. Your stomach’s an ulcerbed as it is.

Don’t you mean an oysterbed? he quipped. Hector smiled and Anton and Hernia both snickered.

The army staff car, painted in olive drab with blue tinted windows, stood in the wide gravel driveway outside the palace. Godfrey had slept fitfully, not dropping off until three in the morning, and was still feeling somewhat jaded. Assisted by a servant, he stowed three suitcases, bulging with extra supplies given by Hector and Ada, inside the trunk. Then he went back into the entrance hall to join the little knot of people saying their goodbyes. Ada, Hector and Letitia hugged each other in turn, dropping kisses on faces and murmuring farewells, while Anton stood moodily apart, dressed in combat fatigues and texting on his phone to Hernia who was still in bed.

Are we ready? Godfrey mumbled, after shaking Hector warmly by the hand and kissing Ada lightly on the cheek.

Ready as we’ll ever be, Pops, Anton said, stifling a yawn.

The three Gorms eased themselves into the staff car’s black interior and a servant closed the doors. Then they set off.

Later, after a long uncomfortable drive during which Letitia, who kept dozing off, had a distinct feeling of déjà vu, they came within sight of the Mellorian border. The frontier post was deserted, as if long abandoned, and the surrounding forest was eerily quiet. Godfrey, who was at the wheel, slowed to a crawl.

They rolled through the border check point without incident, and Godfrey put on a little more speed. Then, round a bend in the road, they suddenly saw a platoon of military vehicles and green-helmeted Slobodian troops milling about. Several of them, seeing the staff car, shouted warnings to stop. Godfrey braked, and an officer approached the car. His face looks awfully familiar, Letitia thought. Then she groaned deeply. Drawing near, the officer’s face broke into a smile.

King Godfrey, Queen Letitia! Long time no see – welcome to Greater Slobodia!

Chapter 3

The Horror Begins

Prince Catheter and Lucinda Limehouse-Blewit, together with three-year-old Angus, their baby daughter Rhiannon and her nurse Betty, had hurried into the cellar when Slobodian troops arrived to search the cottage. For two long hours they had been forced to listen to tramping boots, curses, thuds, bangs and occasional loud crashes while they tried to keep down the noise of Angus’s chattering and Rhiannon’s squawks. In spite of Betty’s efforts, Rhi-Rhi whimpered and snorted like a pig, which then set Angus off, giggling and laughing. Betty tried tying the pacifier to the baby’s mouth, but her teeth split the rubber and her babbling burst out anew, so she unzipped her parka and slipped the baby inside, close to her breasts.

Eventually, the soldiers left without having stumbled on the concealed entrance to the cellar and the three adults cautiously emerged, carrying their young charges. The first room they saw, the kitchen, had been completely overturned. The floor looked like a garbage can had been strewn all over it, and tables and chairs had been knocked over and then kicked to pieces. Broken crockery covered the floor, mixed with damaged food.

Lucinda looked down, horrified, and gasped.

I don’t want to see what they’ve done to the rest of the cottage! She began shedding tears.

We’ll take a quick look, then go see if the horses are safe, Catheter said.