alternatehistory.com
5-Shots
April 3, 1964
Thimphu, Bhutan
The boy was happy.
The archery competition was going well, the bright colors keeping him engaged. Monks surrounded him, singing his praises, drums and horns were played, creating a cacophony that surely appealed to a 9-year-old. It was a spectacle to the might of Jigme Singye Wangchuck.
On his head the Raven Crown slanted, a bit too large on him. The crown had been the one placed upon the head of his great-grandfather, the first Dragon King. It had since then sat on the heads of a few men, but never a boy.
While the young dragon watched the archery more important conversations were happening.
Nearby the Dorji siblings sat, nominally watching the events. The boy’s mother and two uncles spoke quietly.
“Speak to the Indian, Upadhyay, they are sure to side with us. We hold the Bhutan House, they do not wish to see their money wasted by a retreat into the past,” The Queen Mother Kesang Choden said.
“And what? Prove the worst rumors about us true? The Army will not stand for that.” Lhendup Dorji, the youngest, opined. The Queen Mother scoffed.
“What does that matter? India will sweep them away.”
Zip. Thud.
An archer hit his target and the king screamed in joy. The crowd followed suit, not just because their king had, it was honestly quite a good shot. The Dorji’s were swept up in the cheering for several minutes. When they sat down Prime Minister Jigme Palden Dorji was grinning from ear to ear.
“A fine shot indeed! If he keeps it up he will win with ease,” he said, clapping well after the crowd had died down. Lhendup and the Queen Mother gave each other a worried glance and then together gave a worried glance to their brother.
“Are you not worried about this? That whore Yangki is plotting, and my uncle-in-law is not exactly standing in her way. We hold the power for now, but every minute we do nothing she goes stronger.” The Queen Mother hissed.
“Sister, relax. Our enemies are disunited, but we are one family. Nothing will divide us. This gives us strength. Besides I have a plan.”
“Tell us then.” Lhendup said. His brother grinned.
“So, you can sell me out to the enemy? I do not think so little brother,” Palden chuckled to himself. The Queen Mother grabbed his arm.
“No is not the time for one of your jokes, what is your plan?”
“We have the Tshogdu declare one of us regent for the King,” Palden said, grinning from ear to ear. Lhendup blinked in surprise and Kesang Choden’s face contorted in confusion.
“You do realize the Tshogdu has no power.” Lhendup said slowly.
“It has no restraints except the King who, if his mother asks, will be happy to cede them power to then invest in us. Did the old king not wish for them to influence policy?” The Prime Minister asked.
“Not to this extent, only the power to agree with him.” The Queen Mother replied. Her eldest brother waved his hand.
“It is nothing, they will be happy to do something for once.”
“You would have them take my son’s power away from him?”
“Certainly not. It would just be show to legitimize us to the Indians, you know how their Parliament runs the country.” Palden responded.
“And the army?” Lhendup asked.
“As our sister said, against India they…the King is staring at us.”
Sure, enough the boy king was staring at his mother and uncles. The Raven Crown was completely askew on his head, having shifted even more during the fanatical cheering the boy was doing for the archers. The Dorji siblings straightened in their seats and glanced at each other. The Queen Mother gave her son a reassuring, if somewhat nervous, smile. His Uncles began to fervently discuss the relative chances of two archers who had already been knocked out of the competition. The 9-year-old was confused but seemed placated by the actions of his family.
The Queen Mother silently made plans to explain things to her son. He had hardly heard anything of note, and understood even less, but it would make him unhappy to see them not enjoying the show as much as he was. Best to nip any complaining in the bud.
On the other side of the King Namgyal Bahadur noticed the suspicious actions of the Dorji, but not their causes. He thought nothing of it, everyone was tense, and he had just received word that his men from Paro had entered Thimphu unimpeded by any agents the Dorji had in the capital. He smiled.
Zip. Thud.
Another arrow found the target wish ease. The crowd roared in appreciation of the show of skill. The King was especially enthusiastic. He lept into the air with glee and then began bouncing around. Only his mother’s gentile scolding got him to sit down again.
By the time he sat down the Raven Crown was a few more inches closer to falling off.
Thimphu, Bhutan
The boy was happy.
The archery competition was going well, the bright colors keeping him engaged. Monks surrounded him, singing his praises, drums and horns were played, creating a cacophony that surely appealed to a 9-year-old. It was a spectacle to the might of Jigme Singye Wangchuck.
On his head the Raven Crown slanted, a bit too large on him. The crown had been the one placed upon the head of his great-grandfather, the first Dragon King. It had since then sat on the heads of a few men, but never a boy.
While the young dragon watched the archery more important conversations were happening.
Nearby the Dorji siblings sat, nominally watching the events. The boy’s mother and two uncles spoke quietly.
“Speak to the Indian, Upadhyay, they are sure to side with us. We hold the Bhutan House, they do not wish to see their money wasted by a retreat into the past,” The Queen Mother Kesang Choden said.
“And what? Prove the worst rumors about us true? The Army will not stand for that.” Lhendup Dorji, the youngest, opined. The Queen Mother scoffed.
“What does that matter? India will sweep them away.”
Zip. Thud.
An archer hit his target and the king screamed in joy. The crowd followed suit, not just because their king had, it was honestly quite a good shot. The Dorji’s were swept up in the cheering for several minutes. When they sat down Prime Minister Jigme Palden Dorji was grinning from ear to ear.
“A fine shot indeed! If he keeps it up he will win with ease,” he said, clapping well after the crowd had died down. Lhendup and the Queen Mother gave each other a worried glance and then together gave a worried glance to their brother.
“Are you not worried about this? That whore Yangki is plotting, and my uncle-in-law is not exactly standing in her way. We hold the power for now, but every minute we do nothing she goes stronger.” The Queen Mother hissed.
“Sister, relax. Our enemies are disunited, but we are one family. Nothing will divide us. This gives us strength. Besides I have a plan.”
“Tell us then.” Lhendup said. His brother grinned.
“So, you can sell me out to the enemy? I do not think so little brother,” Palden chuckled to himself. The Queen Mother grabbed his arm.
“No is not the time for one of your jokes, what is your plan?”
“We have the Tshogdu declare one of us regent for the King,” Palden said, grinning from ear to ear. Lhendup blinked in surprise and Kesang Choden’s face contorted in confusion.
“You do realize the Tshogdu has no power.” Lhendup said slowly.
“It has no restraints except the King who, if his mother asks, will be happy to cede them power to then invest in us. Did the old king not wish for them to influence policy?” The Prime Minister asked.
“Not to this extent, only the power to agree with him.” The Queen Mother replied. Her eldest brother waved his hand.
“It is nothing, they will be happy to do something for once.”
“You would have them take my son’s power away from him?”
“Certainly not. It would just be show to legitimize us to the Indians, you know how their Parliament runs the country.” Palden responded.
“And the army?” Lhendup asked.
“As our sister said, against India they…the King is staring at us.”
Sure, enough the boy king was staring at his mother and uncles. The Raven Crown was completely askew on his head, having shifted even more during the fanatical cheering the boy was doing for the archers. The Dorji siblings straightened in their seats and glanced at each other. The Queen Mother gave her son a reassuring, if somewhat nervous, smile. His Uncles began to fervently discuss the relative chances of two archers who had already been knocked out of the competition. The 9-year-old was confused but seemed placated by the actions of his family.
The Queen Mother silently made plans to explain things to her son. He had hardly heard anything of note, and understood even less, but it would make him unhappy to see them not enjoying the show as much as he was. Best to nip any complaining in the bud.
On the other side of the King Namgyal Bahadur noticed the suspicious actions of the Dorji, but not their causes. He thought nothing of it, everyone was tense, and he had just received word that his men from Paro had entered Thimphu unimpeded by any agents the Dorji had in the capital. He smiled.
Zip. Thud.
Another arrow found the target wish ease. The crowd roared in appreciation of the show of skill. The King was especially enthusiastic. He lept into the air with glee and then began bouncing around. Only his mother’s gentile scolding got him to sit down again.
By the time he sat down the Raven Crown was a few more inches closer to falling off.
- King of the Uzbeks
- Word Count: 850