Day Two Hundred-Three: Yes, that is a butt

My razor is useless to me. Libby will have to trim my face from now on. GRR.

I spoke to Robert today, as The Baron asked. It was about as fruitful a discussion as I'd expected. He ain't budgin', and neither are his strikers. I should also add that there are now MORE strikers, 'cause a couple of the guards, soldiers and holdout workers noticed how successful Robert's been in not getting murdered. I'm actually amazed King Jeffrey hasn't ordered us to start killing the strikers.

Maybe 'cause us guards might not actually WIN. They have a lot more manpower. And womanpower. Even some animalpower. Anyway. Conversation, right?

Robert's camp is impressive. The strikers have slowly spread out and taken over the main thoroughfare and west bailey, setting up barricades to keep the guards from forcing them back. The cooks among 'em have set up fires in the main square, and there are tents everywhere to protect the lot from the spring rains.

I tried to filch some food on my way to Robert's tent. I got caught and smacked. I'm not good at thieving, it seems, but if you tried what's being served in the Beefiary these days, you wouldn't blame me. Bernard's food tastes like butt.

Which assumes I've tasted butt.

I haven't.

Won't.

Ever.

Robert's tent is pretty posh, considering it was erected yesterday. He's got a desk, and a little cot, and somebody even brought him a cupboard for storing stuff. I dunno what he's storing in it, but it's probably important striking equipment. Like, forms and things.

Do they have forms during strikes? Documentation? I wouldn't know, I've never gone on strike. That makes me the better brother in this.

Robert's guards brought me before him just after breakfast. He invited me to sit on his carpet, and we talked. I told him the position of the king - NEVER BACK DOWN, OUR WIFE'S AWESOME AND SHE'LL RUN YOU OVER WITH THE MATRIARCH, YOU ALL SUCK - and Robert repeated what he's been saying since Friday. More rights, privileges and pay for workers.

Also, a change in the castle's menu. Specifically, replace the rats with something else. Robert hates cooking rats. I am CERTAIN this is the only demand he ACTUALLY cares about.

It's also not likely to happen. Rats are important to the castle's economy. Not only are they a good source of food and building materials (ratskin leather, y'know), they're cheap. They breed like mad, and they feed themselves… literally. The waste meat from rat preparation gets tossed into the rat farms for the little bastards to chow on.

Hm.

I never thought about how gross that is until now. They're intelligent AND they eat their own kind. What a sick little culture!

I appealed to Robert's better nature, but he wouldn't have it. Told me that the king needs to bend to the mob's demands. Otherwise, they might just consider abandoning the castle for another, more enlightened settlement. That would surely bring Castle WHYISTHISHAPPENING to its knees.

We haggled a while longer, but Robert stuck by his position. No more rats. After a while that's ALL he argued for, completely ignoring the demands of his followers. Once we both turned into broken looms he kicked me out of his tent, and, well, here I am. No progress made. Still ineptly hunting for rats in the rat farms.

This can't go on forever, diary. Somebody's gotta give on one side. I don't care which, really, just so long as it happens soon. I'm HUNGRY.

Sincerely,

Dragomir the Guard