Page 78 of Long Live the King
I tossed the leather-bound documents tae the coffee table and took a billiard stick from the wall tae run the chalk over the end.
I played Quentin first, and then Lochinvar. Then Lochinvar played Quentin while I sat on the settee with m’feet up on the antique, near-priceless table. I had the leather-bound case open on m’lap and a whisky in m’hand. Haggis had jumped ontae the settee tae put his head on m’knee.
While they played I petted Haggis between the ears and held the photo up, gazing at the face of m’auld friend, rememberin’ our long discussions about time and its path.Twas a line or a wheel?We had gone around and around, discussin’ the merits of both. I chuckled.
Quentin said, “What are you laughing about?”
“Auld arguments between friends. I had forgotten him, almost, but it’s all so clear now, as if twere yesterday that I was debating him. I was so certain I was right, but yet, everything that has happened since seems tae prove he was correct. I wonder if I ought tae admit it tae him.”
Quentin took his turn, smacking the cue ball deftly against his solid color, dropping it intae the corner pocket. “Normally I would say you should admit it to set your mind at ease, but since getting back there would likely take a pound of flesh, I’m going to say no, just tuck it away.”
I grunted in agreement. “What do ye think this Asgall is doing?”
Quentin said, “Could simply be a time traveler who wanted to be king. He picked a moment of turmoil, seized a throne, didn’t affect much, we’re all still here, same memories, as far as we know, and he’s got his name in the history books. Maybe that’s all it is.”
He chalked up the end of his cue stick.
I said, “History is long though, there is a great deal of turmoil, yet here he is standin’ beside my friend — dost ye truly think tis all it is?”
“Nah, Boss, I think he’s fucking with you.”
I chuckled.
I watched Lochinvar take his turn and asked, “What do you think, Lochinvar? What does Asgall want? Is he content tae be in the history books, or dost he hae a larger plan?”
Lochinvar leaned on the cue stick. “It’s difficult tae say without more information. Ye ought tae see if the name Asgall comes up at any other points in history.”
I flipped through the files and pulled out a few pages. “Lady Mairead has done it already.”
“She is a wise lady.”
I joked, “She inna here, ye can speak freely.”
He laughed.
I said, “There are a few profiles for an Asgall flagged as possibilities, but this is a man who has been crowned a king, who goes by one name. Why would he want tae own a ranch in Arizona in the twentieth century? Tis not big enough.” I flipped through pages. “Here is another Asgall who owns a farm in Spain, in the nineteenth century,” I turned the page over and back. “It’s not the same person, inconclusive, but it’s not...”
Quentin said, “How long ago are those notes from?”
I found a date on the back corner of one. “Looks as if the search was from two weeks ago.”
I called out for the room’s computer tae change a projected image from the shifting forest images I had asked for when we entered, tae a search for the name Asgall through history.
A list of notorious Asgalls appeared, not many, a few with Asgall as the given name, a few with it as the surname, some with Asgall as the only name. Twas difficult tae see a connection. I scowled.
Colonel Quentin said, “This is why Lady Mairead uses AI to make the list, ask her for a new list tomorrow.”
“And admit I am not capable?”
I scrolled through a couple and stopped on the next. “Here is an Asgall in the seventeenth century, listed as a landowner in Portugal.”
Quentin took his turn, droppin’ three balls in pockets. He did a wee dance. “Lots of landowners in the history of the world.”
I said, “True.” And scrolled down a bit more. There was a landowner named Asgall who owned a big chunk of land in Australia.
I asked the room tae narrow the list tae Asgalls with only one name. The list narrowed down and as I scrolled through most of them looked tae be landowners or farmers or ranchers.
Quentin beat Lochinvar at the game.
