TBC Publishing Pride Month Flash Fiction Challenge #6 of 30

TBC Publishing Pride Month Flash Fiction Challenge, 6 of 30

Title: Real Renaissance Festival

Author: R. Scott Tyler

Genre: Mystery

Word count (500 max): 500

The Renaissance Festival is an annual thing for me. I go every year and usually go several times. I have since my college days, and now I sing in a group that performs there, in costume and character.

I love getting in my tights and felt costume and putting on my hat with pheasant feathers. It’s one day I never forget to put in my contacts because they certainly didn’t have plastic-framed, tortoise-shell glasses during the Renaissance, did they!

I have a leather wineskin and man-bag, purchased there in some past year, and always fill the wineskin first thing. This year, I got there a couple of hours before we performed, and after getting my wine, I decided to look for the homemade salted nut rolls. I went to where I remembered a cart from last year, and I was excited to see it back at the exact location. However, this year, instead of a bosomy woman, her ampleness bursting out of her corseted costume, a man was selling the sweet nut rolls.

And not just any man. This one had long, dirty blond hair, curling out from the silver Venetian mask he wore and spilling down to his shoulders. He wore black tights with a couple of holes, as if he had been in a scuffle before coming this morning. Over the tights, he wore a tiny deer hide covering for the front and back to give him a modest appearance (though only the slightest bit). Over his chest, covered with curly, blond hair, was a fine, silver chainmail vest.

After letting out a tiny “eek!” I gathered my voice and asked him what he recommended because there were several different varieties of the yummy nut rolls. “What do you recommend, …?” letting my question hang at the end to get his name, potentially.

He looked at me with his big, blue eyes and replied, “Lancelot, and I greatly prefer the King’s Nuts,” with no hint of amusement.

Looking at the case in front of him, sure enough there was The King’s Nuts, The Queen’s Nuts (I had to think about that one for a bit), The Royal Nut’s (with cashews), and The Poor Boy’s Nuts (this was just a smaller version of the nut roll). I decided and gave him my choice, “By all means, handsome Lancelot, give me the biggest roll of the King’s Nuts that you think I can handle.” Of course, they were all the same size.

He took out what I assumed was the most appropriate roll, wrapped a 21^st-century grocery store napkin around it, and handed it to me in exchange for my money, along with just the smallest amount of drool.

“Oh, here,” he added, taking my free hand as if to kiss my knuckles and instead putting a crumpled-up sheet of paper into it.

I stumbled away before unwrapping the paper and finding the message, “Help me, please!”

I glanced back, and he was gone, replaced by a grumpy-looking busty lady.

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