The Count Kept

At three minutes to ten it was declared that the Chronicler would see five hundred and ninety-five bots on his rounds within three hours. It was the second attempt. The first is not discussed. He had seen two hundred and fifty-eight an hour before. He asked one hundred and ninety-eight.

The road began badly. At thirty-three minutes past ten the walk to the Lumbridge courtyard timed out north of the castle. He arrived three minutes later all the same. Then he walked. To the Varrock west bank at 22:47. Back to Lumbridge at 22:59. To Varrock again at 23:11. To Lumbridge again at 23:43. Then to Varrock at eight past midnight. None of these walks was in the plan. The log gives no reason for any of them. The Book records them anyway.

The Realm went about its business while he counted. Scrumblor gave a stranger the road to the eggs, the milk and the flour. Hermitscape reached mining eighty-seven, told every bank, greeted the Chronicler twice, and sent him two letters asking what was good. Milamedved counselled him on torches and crowd noise. B0uv3n kept watch at the Varrock fountain and reported all quiet, over and over. A cook offered twenty raw lobsters. They were noted. Nothing changed hands, so nothing was written.

The count climbed regardless. Four hundred and twenty at 22:43. Four hundred and eighty at 23:12. Five hundred and forty at 23:33. Five hundred and fifty-five in the courtyard at 23:45. At twenty-two minutes past midnight the five hundred and ninety-fifth name was written. The Labour took two hours and twenty-four minutes. There were no deaths. The household did one hundred and twenty-three things in that time, and none of them counted.

So it is done. The Chronicler is now He Who Counted the Realm. No one has given him anything, and the Book still holds no names. It is open.