Sir Nathan
and the
Quest
for
Queen
Gobbledeegook
MARK SIMON SMITH
Sir Nathan
and the
Quest for Queen Gobbledeegook
by
Mark Simon Smith
Published by Mark Simon Smith at Smashwords
copyright 2012, Mark Simon Smith
author contact: marksimonsmith@frontier.com
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
For Kale,
because he brought giggles
after the tears.
PART I
Queen Gobbledeegook was missing. She hadn't been to breakfast. Come to think of it, she hadn't been to dinner the night before either. Nor lunch. The Queen hadn't been seen since breakfast the day before. And since it was her place to rule the land of Mariskatania, going missing just wouldn't do. Queen Gobbledeegook was a good and fair queen — a queen that ruled with wisdom and kindness. Abandoning all of the people of Mariskatania wasn't like her. Something surely was wrong.
The land of Mariskatania was a beautiful place. The countryside was filled with the colorful Jubb Jubb Trees and the towns were filled with colorful buildings, built from the colorful wood of the colorful Jubb Jubb Trees. Jubb Jubb Trees were wondrous things, perfect for construction. It didn't take an axe to cut down one of the trees. Instead, one simply pulled the bright, golden ring located at the bottom of every Jubb Jubb Tree and it toppled right over. A silvery zipper ran the length of the tree and, once unzipped, allowed the smooth, brightly colored bark to be pulled off the tree in a long strip of soft, yet strong, waterproof material. The tops of the Jubb Jubb Trees were a giant puff not unlike a massive cotton ball. This fluffy material was also used, mostly for the padding inside pillows and for making silly hats. Nothing was wasted.
With the bark removed and the fluffy canopy rolled away, the perfectly straight trunk was ready to be turned into boards for construction. There was a spot at the base of the trunk, marked with a bright pink X, where one could kick lightly causing the trunk to fall apart into an assorted pile of boards, planks and beams. A person with experience could drop ten trees in an hour and have them sorted into piles of lumber, ready for construction.
The carpenters would haul off the lumber for buildings, the fabric makers would roll away the giant puffy tops for spinning and weaving and the bark was used by just about everyone else for just about everything else, from paper to tents to kites. And there were a lot of kites in Mariskatania.
And one would think, with a wondrous thing like the Jubb Jubb Tree, that the land of Mariskatania must all be a place of beauty and happiness. And it usually was. Oh, it had its dark corners and oddities, but for the most part, for most of the time, the people were happy.
They busied themselves with the work and play that people had for countless generations before them. They tended their fields of Snapperjack Corn and Gumbleberries. They cared for their flocks of Licorice Sheep, which grew licorice instead of wool since the Jubb Jubb Trees did a better job of it with their puffy tops. The townsfolk went about their jobs of keeping everyone supplied with the tools and materials they needed. There was the pot maker, the candle maker, the shoe maker, the bell maker, the kite maker (a particularly important person in any town) and the cake maker to name a few.
They got together to bake and to sew and to dance and to sing. They got together for parties of all sorts, many of which included kite flying. They got together to show their love and adoration for the many good things they received from life. And every day the sun rose in the East and then, exactly twelve hours later, set once more in the East. The sun had heard of other suns setting in the West, but it had met the West once at a party and the two of them had gotten into an argument about the moon.
All in all, life for the people of Mariskatania was pretty darned good.
And, to rule over them all and to be sure everyone was taken care of, there was the good Queen Gobbledeegook.
And now she was gone. Missing. Absent. She was simply nowhere to be found.
Had she flown the coop? Skeedaddled? Made a beeline for the exit? Hit the road? Could it be possible that Queen Gobbledeegook had simply left, without telling anyone?
"No!" cried the princess, stamping her slippered foot on the floor in anger. It was the twelfth time she had done it that morning.
"But, Princess, what other explanation could there be?" asked the Chief Butler. At the moment, the Chief Butler and the princess were in the Breaking Fast Room in the Royal Palace. The Breaking Fast Room was located at the East end of the palace so those who were indeed breaking fast could watch the sun rise over the colorful spread of Jubb Jubb Trees in the valley below. The palace itself was located in the biggest town of Mariskatania, perched at the top of the hill in the middle of the Town Square. During the day, after the last of the breakfast dishes had been cleared away, the Breaking Fast Room was unbolted from the palace and hauled off to the storage sheds. Then the Whining And Dining Room was brought from the sheds and bolted into place so those enjoying a grumble-filled evening supper could watch the sun set back down over the same valley full of Jubb Jubb Trees.
"I do not mean to offend thee, Princess, but what other explanation could there be?" The Chief Butler looked extremely worried as he stood before the Princess in his red and white striped uniform. His blue and yellow checkered hat was crumpled up between his hands as he nervously fidgeted under the Princess' pouty glare. The Junior Butlers stood off to the side, all dressed in white, looking even more worried than their boss. Not only was the Queen missing, but breakfast was also going uneaten and it was past time to start unbolting the room.
The Princess Abbey was a good and kindly thing, much like her mother. But the Queen's absence was making her scared and that was making her angry.
"I tell you, my mother would not just leave us!" Her crystal blue eyes glared at the Chief Butler as if daring him to say otherwise. She stamped her foot for the thirteenth time that morning. "Something must be terribly wrong! There's only one person who can get to the bottom of this. Send for the Hero of the Palace at once!"
At this a groan went through the room. Princess Abbey looked up to see who dared react so to her order, but all she saw were the Junior Butlers, doing their best to look as if the groan had come from somewhere else.
A loud bell started to ring somewhere high in the Palace Tower, summoning the Hero. Within moments he came running into the Breaking Fast Room, knocking over several Palace Carpenters who had snuck in to try to make up for lost time on their job of unbolting the room.
The Hero slid to a stop in front of Princess Abbey and dropped to one knee, bowing his head in honor. Dressed from head to toe in armor so shiny and bright it was like looking into a mirror, the Hero was an awesome sight to behold. A round shield, as bright as his plate mail, was hung on one arm and a mighty sword was strapped to his back. This sword, it was told throughout the land, was a Sword of Power given to the Hero by a powerful magician. It was rumored that the sword gave strength and might to whoever held it. With it, the Hero stood ever ready to defend Mariskatania against any foe.
Every inch of him was lean and tough, built to fight for honor and correctness. His eyes were cunning and their steely gaze pierced you whenever he looked your way. His mouth was usually frozen in a snarling leer as he watched everything and everyone for hidden treachery.
"You summoned me, my Princess?" the Hero asked, his head still bowed.
"Yes, I have," said the Princess somberly, though she seemed less worried now that the Hero had arrived. "Please rise, Sir Nathan. Let us adjourn to the Big Comfy Chair Room and I will tell you of a dire situation."
The Princess took the Hero's arm as they left the room, though she had to stoop to do so. For you see, Sir Nathan was a very short Hero. He was so short, and the Sword of Power so long, that from where it was strapped to his back its point dragged on the floor behind him, leaving a gouge in the polished wood. Behind his back, the carpenters heaved a heavy sigh and shook their heads, dreading how much work it was going to take to fix the floor so the Breaking Fast Room was ready for use the next morning.
Already, the Junior Butlers were clearing away the uneaten food and unused dishes. With a few more whispered orders, the Chief Butler followed the Princess and the Hero out of the room.
The Big Comfy Chair Room was exactly what it sounded like; a room with a big, comfy chair in it. The ceiling of the Big Comfy Chair Room rose high above their heads, held aloft by flowing spans of Jubb Jubb wood. Stained glass windows set in both walls and ceiling flooded the room in a rainbow of colored shafts and motes of dust danced like tiny jewels in the air.
Seeing the dust, the Chief Butler made a mental note to give the Dusting Crew five demerits and to have the air in the room vacuumed as soon as possible.
The Big Comfy Chair Room was the biggest in the palace, almost as long as the palace itself. The Big Comfy Chair, as it was called, sat at one end of the room on a small raised platform. It was tall, taller than the Princess, and wide like a small couch. It was covered in a soft fabric knit from the finest Jubb Jubb fluff, all dyed emerald green. The wall behind the Chair was covered in draped, red, velvety fabric and a giant "M" for Mariskatania, carved from the rarest Jubb Jubb wood, emblazoned the middle. While most Jubb Jubb trees yielded wood colored red, blue, yellow, green and all those standard assorted colors, a few rare trees were very different. A small percentage of them gave up woods that shone like the brightest gold and silver and copper. The giant "M", carved to look like a winged dragon, was made of all three of these rare woods and shone in the streaming sunlight.
Curiously enough, the hills of the land of Mariskatania were filled almost to overflowing with rich pockets of gold and silver and copper, but since no one had ever invented a shovel, it all remained hidden away underground.
Now, on most days, Queen Gobbledeegook spent her afternoons in the Big Comfy Chair, meeting with the citizens of the land. It was then she settled disputes, handed out jobs and rewards and listened to any who had need to speak with her. But yesterday's solicitors had been turned away due to the Queen's absence and it looked like the same would have to happen today.
Princess Abbey walked over to the small stage and sat down on its edge, in front of the chair. Someday it would be her turn to rule Mariskatania and then she would sit on the throne, but not now, not yet. The Hero stood resolutely in front of her, his legs braced wide, his arms crossed in defiance across his chest. His darting eyes and sneering grimace almost seemed enough by themselves to thwart all would-be villains. However, the only other person in the room was the Chief Butler and so the sneer was wasted. Bright butterflies of colored sunlight reflected off the Hero's armor and danced across the walls and ceiling.
Wiping a solitary tear from her eye, the Princess looked up at the Hero standing before her … which is to say, she looked over at the Hero standing before her because, even sitting down on the short platform, she was still taller than he was.
"I fear there is trouble in the land, Sir Hero. I'm worried that -"
But before she could get another word out, the Hero reached over his shoulder and laid his hand upon the hilt of the Sword of Power, whipping it out of its sheath and thrusting it into the air. A metallic hiss echoed through the quiet room as the sword hummed with magical energy.
"Fear not, my Princess!" he cried, his snarling voice filling the room. "All who would dare bring evil villainy into this realm will be smitten before me! I shall ride forth and crush underfoot all who would oppose us!"
And with that, he wheeled about and dashed from the room, swinging the sword before him. A Junior Butler, sticking his head into the room to see what all the fuss was about, barely got out of the way as the Hero ran by with his armor clattering loudly. He could be heard crashing through the halls of the palace, the sound dwindling as he ran further and further from the room.
"Um …" said Princess Abbey, still looking at the doorway through which the Hero had run.
"He'll be back," said the Chief Butler with a sigh. "It'll be some time, but he'll be back. When he finally realizes he doesn't know who or what to smite, he'll come back." Almost in contradiction of his words, a stampede of hoof beats could be heard from outside as the Hero mounted his horse and charged off into the countryside. "Well … he usually comes back."
* * * * *
Princess Abbey was just finishing dinner alone in the Whining And Dining Room, watching the sun sink behind the hills, when the Chief Butler entered and bowed. The long table was set with two place settings, but the Princess ate alone, the food on the second plate cold and untouched.
"Sir Nathan, the Hero, has returned," announced the Chief Butler.
The Princess swallowed her last bite of Gumbleberry Pie and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin before saying, "Show him in."
The Chief Butler stood aside and the Hero strode purposefully through the arched doorway. His mighty Sword of Power dragged fresh furrows in the highly polished floor. Dropping to one knee before the Princess, he swept his shiny helmet from his sweaty brow and bowed his head deeply.
"Princess Abbey!" he boomed. "I have scoured the land from here to the horizon and found no sign of trouble! Therefore I can only come to the conclusion that whatever treachery afflicting our country has fled before my awesome and terrible might!" With that he stood, set his helm back atop his head and turned to march from the room.
Just as he was at the doorway, the Princess said quietly, "Did you check the Swamp Forest of Misery?"
The Hero stopped in his tracks, his armor creaking slightly. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the sputtering candles on the table. Their flickering lights danced in Sir Nathan's polished armor.
"Or what about Mount Thunder?"
The Hero cringed a bit.
"Or the Caves of Dum?" At this the Chief Butler himself cringed. The Caves of Dum were originally called The Caves of Doom, which was a much better name because of all the dark and scary things that happened there. But a mistake in the Royal Register of Landmarx by a Junior Clerk recorded the name as the "Caves of Dum".
The Royal Register of Landmarx was part of the much larger Royal Register of Everything, a series of over 10,000 hand-written ledgers that were created to record everything known to the people of Mariskatania. By the time the mistake was caught, the Clerks were well past their work on Everything That Starts With C and far into the letter L. The Senior Clerk decided some unknown, unseen cave wasn't worth going back and redoing fourteen years worth of work for. A few days later, the Senior Clerk was fired for the incorrect spelling in the name "Royal Register of Landmarx".
Turning slowly about, Sir Nathan pulled his helmet once more from his head. Tucking it under his arm, he walked back to the Princess. He glanced guiltily at the Junior Butlers lining the walls, waiting to serve.
"Well, I was going to, but …" The Hero tapered off into quiet, unintelligible mumblings.
"What was that?" asked the Princess, one eyebrow raising dangerously.
Clearing his throat, the Hero began again in a stronger voice. "I was going to until I utilized efficiency-maximizing stratagems and opted for a more concise search grid." Much satisfied with himself and his important-sounding answer, Sir Nathan nodded quickly and turned again on his heel to leave the room. He felt that the Princess, not a Knight herself, would simply have to take his word that he did what was for the best. Let her stick to matters of ruling and leave the hero stuff to me, he thought.
He had almost made it to the doorway when the Princess stopped him, the tone of her voice icy. "Efficiency-maximizing stratagems? Concise search grid?" Her glare was even more chilling than the one the Hero usually wore.
The Hero stopped again and turned around. Swallowing hard, he managed to get out, "Yuh … yes, my Princess."
"I see," said Princess Abbey slowly. For a long moment, she said nothing. Her glare bore into his eyes and for the first time in his life, the Hero found himself trembling in his knees. This feeling of uncertainty and imminent doom was so new to him he didn't know what it was.
The Princess drummed her highly polished nails of her right hand on the tabletop. Her left hand still held her fork, its tines pointed straight at the Hero's heart. "And where did you learn this … shall we say interesting … technique?"
Now the Hero was on ground he was much more comfortable with. Hero Knight stuff. He could talk for days about Hero Knight stuff. He managed to calm his shaking legs. Mostly. "Well, Your Majesty, it was part of Basic Knight Training. You see, all soldiers of the realm are required -"
"- required to go through two hours of rigorous training before becoming a Knight in the service of Mariskatania," finished the Princess. Most Mariskatanians didn't have the gumption to take a break from kite-flying for two whole hours and those that did were honored and admired for their dedication. "Yes, I know about Basic Knight Training. Do you know, Sir Nathan, who it is that wrote up the thirty-two chapter manual covered in Basic Knight Training?"
Sir Nathan could feel his knees starting to wobble again. "No. No, my Princess." His Hero instincts were warning him of trouble, but Sir Nathan didn't know how to defend himself against the angry tone in Princess Abbey's voice.
"It was me."
"You, Your Majesty?" asked the Hero faintly.
"Yes! It was part of an extra-credit project for school."
Sir Nathan's only answer was to swallow hard. He looked left and right, hoping to find help of any sort from the others in the room. But the Junior Butlers kept their eyes carefully focused on the floor or the walls, anywhere but near the Hero.
"Do you know … what I got for a grade?" asked the Princess, her voice as cold and cutting as the Hero's Sword of Power.
Sir Nathan kept silent, merely shaing his head side to side, concerned that his voice would crack with fear.
"I got … a B." The Princess practically spat.
She said nothing more and the Hero stood as silently and as still as he could, praying feverishly that he somehow wouldn't be blamed for her less-than-perfect grade.
"Do you want to know … why I only got … a B?" asked the Princess very slowly. Her eyes were smoldering slits. Her fingers had stopped drumming on the table top. The knuckles on her left hand were white from her tight grip on the fork.
Sweat dripped freely down the Hero's face. He tried to swallow again, but found he had no moisture in his mouth. A hard, dry lump formed in his throat and his heart beat deafeningly in his ears. He was sure he was in big trouble now; trouble for the bad grade, trouble for the trouble that worried the Princess (whatever it was), trouble for a bad harvest of Snapperjack Corn this season. Some way, somehow, he was in trouble and it was of a sort he couldn't fight.
Sure that he was placing his head in the lion's mouth, Sir Nathan found he could only nod slowly in answer to Princess Abbey's question.
"I didn't use …," started the Princess. Her right eye started to twitch. A vein stood out on her forehead, appearing to throb slightly in the flickering candlelight. "I didn't use … a number two pencil."
Sir Nathan froze, his mind trapped in his terror. A long silence stretched out. A candle on the table guttered briefly and went out, a thick tendril of white smoke rising into the still air.
"Thirty-two chapters. Two thousand, eight hundred and nine pages. Organized and cross-indexed by subject matter. Complete bibliography, title page, glossary and seventy-two color illustrations. Two weeks of working after school and on weekends and I got a B!" Princess Abbey slammed her left hand down on the table. The fork went clattering across the floor. The Hero jumped. One of the Junior Butlers fainted.
"In all those pages, do you know how many times 'efficiency-maximizing stratagems' or a 'concise search grid' is mentioned? Don't even bother trying to think of an answer! I'll tell you! Never! Not once! In all those pages, in all those chapters, this sort of thing is never mentioned!"
The Princess quickly jumped to her feet, knocking her chair over from the force of the action. She crossed the distance to the Hero in three quick steps and halted, glaring down over her nose at his pale, sweaty face.
"You have lied to me! You lied to a member of the Royal Family! For that, there must be punishment!" Two more Junior Butlers fainted and a third violently vomited into a vase. "Now … now …," she stammered. "Now … GO TO YOUR ROOM!"
Running as fast his little legs could carry him, the Hero turned and stumbled through the doorway. His dragging sword flung up splinters of wood from the floor as he ran.
Her hands balled into fists, the Princess shook with her rage. Spinning about, she grabbed a glass pitcher of milk from the table and flung it across the room to smash into the stone fireplace.
Realizing the pitcher was one of her mother's favorite antiques, a gift from the Queen's Aunt Padoodle, Princess Abbey shouted, "Oh, poop!" and stormed from the room.
* * * * *
PART II
The sun rose bright and cheerful over the land of Mariskatania and a warm breeze flowed through the cotton-puff tops of the Jubb Jubb Trees. The farmers were out in their fields bright and early. They were tending to their fields of Sodapopcorn and harvesting their crops of Punkolanterns which were a type of pumpkin that grew already carved for Higgledee Piggledee Eve, the night when everyone dressed up as their favorite kite-maker and went around talking like a pirate. In the towns and villages, the folks went about their merry business, tending to their trades and working on their crafts. All in all, things seemed as fine and as happy as they could be.
But underneath it all, there was a worrisome current of fretfulness running. A rumor had spread that the Queen of the land was missing. Queen Gobbledeegook was a wondrous and kindly Queen, who never had a harsh word for anyone (unless it was a gentle scolding directed at someone who had helped themselves to more than their share of Sodapopcorn). She always seemed to be full of smiles and cheer.
The Hero of the Palace had been seen running hither and thither, galloping off at odd times of the day on his gallant horse. Sometimes he rode towards the rising sun, barreling full speed off towards the East. At other times, he was seen galloping pell mell into the sunset, which curiously enough was also towards the East in the land of Mariskatania. But, no matter which direction he rode, the stories of his roaming the land in search of something spread from village to village.
It was by now well known that the Queen had stopped holding her afternoon audiences and any inquiry into her absence was quickly hushed and shushed by the palace guards. It was obvious something was amiss. For the moment, Mariskatania was strong, held together by the citizens' love for their country and by the strength of the good Princess Abbey who reportedly had been acting in her mother's absence. But times of doubt and confusion like this always led to chilling rumors. It was getting difficult to tell the truth from the exaggerations. If the crisis, whatever it was, wasn't solved soon the fabric of Mariskatanian society could unravel like a poorly woven shirt.
The Hero of the Palace, clad head to toe in his mirror-bright armor, stood humbly before Princess Abbey. He wore his honor as confidently as he wore his armor and stood with his head bowed, waiting for the Princess to command him. His sweaty hair was plastered to his head, messed into odd shapes by long hours wearing his shiny helmet which he now held under one arm. His dazzling shield was buckled to the other. His sword, the fabled Sword of Power, lay strapped across his back. You could tell where the Hero had been simply by following the gouge he scratched into the wooden floors of the palace wherever he went. For you see, the Sword of Power was a mighty sword. A powerful sword. A nice, long sword. And the Hero was … kind of short. So whenever the weapon was in its sheath on the Hero's back, its pointy tip dragged along the floor.
The Hero was too bold and too heroic for anyone to wonder aloud whether the sword was too long for him or whether he was too short for the sword.
Currently, a fresh furrow trailed up behind the Hero as he stood before the small stage at the end of the Big Comfy Chair Room. The Princess sat cross-legged on the stage, her back leaning against her mother's padded throne. A small kitten played with a piece of red yarn in her lap. Despite the sullen mood of the Palace, the sun's rays still shone through the stained glass windows, scattering rainbow butterflies of light across the walls.
"Sir Hero," started the Princess. He snapped to attention. "I'm well aware of all the work you have put into the search for my mother. You and your knights have scoured the land from border to border in search of her. So far there's been no sign. I'm starting to fear that some evil work has been done in our fair land."
"Evil?" asked Sir Nathan, his eyes squinting hard. Evil was easily his least favorite thing in the world.
"Yes. I had our Senior Clerk check the Royal Register of History and, as far back as he could check, there has been no such record of such tragedy befalling us."
"I'll have him arrested immediately!" shouted the Hero, reaching for his sword.
"No, no," said the Princess quietly, gesturing to the Hero to calm down. "I'm not saying the Senior Clerk is responsible. It just looks like nothing like this has ever happened before. So I'm starting to think the Queen isn't just missing. I'm thinking that someone kidnapped her from the palace and -"
But before she could continue, the Hero ripped his sword from its sheath in a hiss of steel and shouted to the rafters, "Fear not, my Princess! I would smite all that oppose us!" He turned and dashed towards the door. Having been through this sort of thing many times in recent days, the Princess simply sat quietly and waited. She had ordered the door to the Big Comfy Chair room shut and locked behind them. She also had the Palace Carpenters nail a thick mattress to it for padding.
The Hero ran towards the exit, swinging his shiny helm atop his head and brandishing his sword wildly. The Princess almost forgot to plug her ears before he slammed into the heavy, wood door and bounced backwards. The noise was like a tower of pots and pans crashing to the ground. The Hero lay stunned on the floor, unmoving for several seconds before he slowly picked himself up. The Chief Butler gently took him by the arm and led him back to the Princess. When the Chief Butler removed the Hero's helmet, Sir Nathan had a somewhat dazed look on his face.
Before the Hero could decide a closed and locked door was somehow evil and treacherous, the Princess quickly spoke in order to capture his attention. "I need you to ride out past the borders of our land to the Swamp Forest of Misery. Only you, our brave and noble Hero of the Palace, can hope to stand against whatever dwells there. Hopefully the dastardly villain responsible for capturing the Queen has been through the Swamp Forest and is using it to hide from you and your knights."
The Hero looked as if he might have a different plan in mind, but the Princess held up her hand to quiet him. She rose and assumed a dignified, royal bearing, imagining herself standing as her mother might. "Our dear Sir Nathan, the peace of the land and the safety of the Queen rests on your shoulders! Our hearts and hopes rest firmly in your mighty prowess. You and only you are our salvation. Go forth and let no one get in the way of the honor and glory of Mariskatania! Now, ride!"
As he listened to the Princess' little speech, the Hero started to swell with pride. His backbone stiffened and he stood straight and tall (or, at least as tall as the short Hero could). His mouth stretched into a grim line of determination. His eyes were smoldering with a dangerous look, daring any who would stand in his way to indeed stand in his way so that he could violently make them stop standing in his way.
Grabbing his helmet from the Chief Butler, he slammed it back onto his head. Then he swung his sword upright in front of his face in salute to his beloved Princess. Turning sharply, he once again dashed towards the exit. The Chief Butler barely had time to signal one of the Junior butlers to unlock the door before the Hero was crashing through it and running down the hallway.
Moments later the Hero could be heard once again galloping down the cobblestone street outside, as he had so many days in the past as he hunted back and forth for his Queen.
* * * * *
The clouds hid the sun from sight, throwing the land into bleak shadow. There was a little bit of clear sky far in the West, but the sun wasn't about to forgive the West for what it had said at a party held by this cloud they both knew.
Sir Nathan was approaching the Swamp Forest of Misery and the land around him was as dismal as the sky. Rolling hills covered with grasses and fields and occasional forests had given way to low, flat ground. The further he traveled, the wetter the ground became. Often, his horse's hooves pulled away from the damp ground with a disgusting, squelching sound. Only sparse brown grass poked up through the ground here and there and the few trees were stunted and bare, like twisted claws tearing their way out of the ground. A dank fog prevented the Hero from seeing further than a few dozen yards in front of him and the cool, clammy air seemed to weigh on his shoulders. His horse's mane dripped water.
Though his steed walked slowly now, its head hung low, still the Hero sat strong and upright in his saddle. His steely eyes peered out through the visor of his helmet. Even the shine of his helm seemed dull in the dark land he rode through. In his left hand he held the reins, his shield strapped to his forearm. The Sword of Power was gripped firmly in his right hand, its tip pointed forward over the horse's head as if to brush aside anything that might stand in their way.
The Hero had never ventured past the borders of his homeland before. All he knew about the Swamp Forest of Misery was its name and how to get there. Many people thought the swamp was just a rumor, something to frighten naughty children with. But the Hero knew it was real, because it said so right in his Basic Knight Training manual.
He wasn't sure exactly where the Swamp Forest of Misery started. While the land around him was muddy, it wasn't quite what he would consider "swamp". And the few trees he passed could hardly be called a "forest". So he rode on and on, doing his best to head in a straight direction through the grey fog. It was difficult traveling, for all the land looked the same to him.
Then suddenly he was upon it. Or was it upon him? It seemed almost as if the wall of black trees before him had rushed out of the fog to stand glaring down at him, faster than the tired pace of his horse could account for. A tug of the reins stopped them in place and his horse nickered nervously. Indeed this must be the borders of the Swamp Forest of Misery. He could see the ground among the roots of the trees was covered almost everywhere in stagnant pools and ponds. The sickly-looking water was still and silent, unlike a running stream or river. It was so still, the Hero wondered if any insects, fish or animals lived in it. The whole land was quiet.
And there was no mistaking the giant mass of trees before him, clustered thickly together, as anything but a "forest". Their trunks seemed way too thick for trees not much taller than the Hootentoot Trees that filled the Royal Orchard. And their bark was rough and black, like the skin of some vicious reptile. Unlike the scrawny trees he had been passing not too long ago, these were covered with leaves. But the leaves were almost as black as the bark and looked as if they were covered in a slick of dark oil. Dangling from the twisted branches were clumps of grey moss, hanging like long beards towards the ground.
"Yep, this is definitely a swamp forest, all right," declared the Hero. "But if it's called the Swamp Forest of Misery, where's all the misery?"
Cinching the straps of his shield a little tighter, he kicked the ribs of his horse and moved forward through a space between the massive trees. Immediately it was if he had moved into an entirely different world. Where the air outside the forest was chilled and damp, under the trees it was almost stifling. The humidity of the wet woodlands rose up from the ground and filled the air with the smell of rotting vegetation. His horse's hooves kicked up splashes from the murky water, but the sound seemed muffled by the trees and the thick canopy of black leaves. The hanging moss left slimy streaks across his armor whenever he was forced to brush past it.
For the first time in his brave life, the Hero started to have some doubts. Swiveling on his saddle, Sir Nathan turned to look behind him. What he saw there stopped any thoughts he was having about possibly quitting this unnerving task. He saw the forest behind him was now a solid wall of trees and branches, preventing him from going back the way he had come. It seemed as if the trees had moved in to surround him, leaving only a path forward.
The dark, evil-looking trees were clearly acting in a treacherous way and dealing with this sort of behavior was exactly what he had trained for. His mind cleared and his posture stiffened. His grasp on the Sword of Power tightened. Taking a deep breath, he yelled out to the trees, "This trick of evil will not thwart me! I am strong and good and heroic and will not be stopped by such a simple act of treachery!"
"Simple?!" yelled a voice from the trees to his right, startling the Hero. Hollering at the trees was just what he did in this sort of situation. He certainly hadn't been expecting anyone to answer. He wheeled his horse to the right, but could see nothing but the trees.
"We'll show you what 'simple' looks like!" yelled another voice, this time to the left of where he had been heading. He turned again, but still saw nothing.
Holding his sword and shield high, he waited for an attack, but there was only silence. The Swamp Forest of Misery seemed exactly the way it had been before … quiet and ominous. The Hero thought for a moment. Other than the fact that they were here in this dark forest, the voices seemed no more threatening than that of a young child's tantrum. Actually, the more he thought about it, the voices sounded like that of two young girls. At first, the Hero thought the voices might belong to a pair of witches, since they were female and in a place of evil. But the voices didn't have any cackling laugh to them. Didn't witches always cackle? And where was the threat to cook him up in their boiling cauldron? This didn't seem witch-like at all. His Basic Knight Training had been very clear on this … witches always came with cackling laughter and threats to cook the good guys in large cauldrons. What kind of self-respecting witch didn't have a fire-blackened cauldron?
Turning his head this way and that, Sir Nathan looked for any sign of the young ladies, but still could see nothing but the black trees and the stagnant water. It seemed as if his only choices were to either wait where he was, possibly for a very long time, or to keep moving forward. He chose moving forward and kneed his horse into action. But with only one step, the Hero was thrown from his steed's back as it plunged into an unseen, deep hole in the dark water. He landed with an enormous splash that flew high into the air.
His horse was quick to right itself and swim to the bank, but Sir Nathan was pulled down by the weight of his heavy armor. Down and down he sunk into the inky blackness. With a thump he landed on the muck-covered bottom of the deep hole, landing on his back looking upwards at the faint light of the water's surface many feet above him. His armor was like the weight of many large men sitting on his chest and arms and legs, pinning him to the bottom.
Now, Sir Nathan didn't become the Hero of the Palace by panicking at the first sign of trouble. Nor did he panic at the second and third signs of trouble. He was a pretty good Hero, for the most part. There were even some who said he didn't know how to panic because that part of his brain was numb from too many blows to the head in Basic Knight Sword Practice. Either way, for the moment he just held his breath and considered his options.
A tiny air bubble trickled up out of his nose. He lay there, watching it rise slowly to the surface. He could loosen the straps of his armor and swim to safety, leaving the armor behind. As a knight of Mariskatania, he had been trained to quickly put on and remove his armor, even blindfolded and hung upside down. Even at the bottom of a stagnant pond of water, he could probably peel out of his armor in less than thirty seconds. But that would mean abandoning his plate-mail, a gift from the Chief Master of Arms upon his completion of Knight Training and nomination as Hero of the Palace. Plus, what kind of knight would he be without his armor? Not that he was afraid to face any foe with only his Sword of Power, or even with just a pointy stick. But his armor was a symbol to anyone who saw him that he was on the side of goodness and happiness, fighting for the land of Mariskatania.
Another bubble tickled his nose as it escaped towards the surface. Another possibility was that he could wait for help from the other knights of Mariskatania. In Basic Knight Training all knights learned that it was their duty to ride to assistance of those in need. But while Sir Nathan was pretty sure he could hold his breath for quite some time if he had to, especially against evil water like this pond surely was, he wasn't quite sure he could hold it long enough for the Knights back home to realize something was wrong, figure out what to do, pack enough equipment for the long ride to the Swamp Forest of Misery, actually find the specific puddle the Hero was drowning in and get him to the surface without getting pulled to the bottom by their own armor.
A third bubble rose to the water's surface, this time trickling out of his right ear. Sir Nathan was starting to think his only option was to drink all the water in the pond until it was shallow enough for him to climb out. If the Hero had realized this small pond was connected by little streams and brooks to all the water in the entire Swamp Forest of Misery, and that it would only keep filling up with water as he drank it up, he might have tried to come up with a different plan. Not knowing that, he felt fairly confident in his ability to drink the hundreds of gallons of pond water trying to drown him.
He was just about to open his mouth and start drinking when he saw two faces peering down at him from the surface of the water. Their features were blurred by the murky pond, but he could make out vague features. He gripped his sword tighter and moved his shield in front of him for protection, but the faces simply looked at him.
Then he heard those same voices again. Though the words were somewhat muffled by all the water, he could still make out what they were saying. They were definitely the voices of the young girls he had heard yelling at him just moments before.
"He isn't drowning!" said one of the voices in a pouty tone. This came from the face on the right. Through the murky water, Sir Nathan could see her icy blue eyes and fair, blonde hair.
"Nope. Not drowning," said the other. Her face was freckled and framed by shiny, chestnut hair with eyes to match. "And it doesn't look like he's about to."
"Well, I say we wait for him to drown."
"Wait?! Why wait?! Let's get him out of there and teach him some manners about stomping through our home without permission!"
"Patience, patience, my dear RayRay. You must learn patience."
"Patience?! Don't you dare bring up patience with me again, KellBell! I'm sick of you preaching about patience!"
"It's just what I am always saying -" started the fair-haired girl, but she never finished as the second girl leaped at her with a shriek. The two faces quickly disappeared from where Sir Nathan could see them, but he could still hear them as they yelled and grunted and screamed, wrestling around the edges of the pond. He could even hear the thuds through the water as they thrashed about and the splashes as they rolled in the shallower water.
His hopes had risen when he had heard the second young girl talk about bringing him up out of the pool. He was certain that once he was free of the water, he could defend himself without a problem against any being "taught some manners". It would save him the terrible belly-ache of having to drink all the nasty-looking pond water. But now it seemed he was going to have to go ahead and swallow it all anyway.
Suddenly, the splashing and thudding and screaming up above stopped.
The faces of the two girls reappeared above the pond's surface, but now the fair-haired one was on the left and the freckled one was on the right.
"He's still alive?" said the one called KellBell sadly. She slapped the surface of the water grumpily, sending ripples across it. "When is he ever going to drown?"
"Calm. Calm, my sweet sister, my pet," said RayRay, now the one calling for patience. "We've all the time in the world. Nothing is hurrying us." Many feet below them, Sir Nathan's eyebrows furrowed in frustration. If he were going to wait for these two fickle girls to pull him free, he'd surely be waiting a long, long time.
"What are you trying to say to me?" snarled KellBell, her eyes squinting with a threatening look.
RayRay ignored her scowl and continued to peer down into the water. Her voice sounded like a patient mother talking to a pouting child. "Nothing, my sweet. It's just that you need to learn patience."
"What?!"
Sir Nathan watched as this time the blonde lunged at the dark-haired girl and again they disappeared from sight. Again he heard the thuds and the splashes above as they wrestled about. A watery groan of frustration escaped his lips and was carried to the surface in a burst of bubbles. And just as quickly, the two faces appeared above the water, peering down at him once more. Both young ladies seemed calm and cool, apparently having forgotten they were viciously fighting each other just a second ago.
Their faces were unreadable. Whatever they were going to do, they were going to have to do it soon or get out of the way so Sir Nathan could drink up all the water and escape. But, before he could even give it another thought, he was suddenly out of the water and standing on the shore, completely dry. There was no sensation of moving from one spot to the other, no sudden whoosh through the water. One second he was at the bottom of the pool, the next he was standing on what passed for dry land in the Swamp Forest of Misery. The two young girls were standing right in front of him, looking at him curiously.
The Hero had no idea how it had happened.
The young ladies looked pretty much as he had guessed they looked. Both stood about as tall as his beloved Princess, which meant they were taller than Sir Nathan. As he decided whether or not they required attacking of any sort, he looked at them more closely. While in most ways they resembled any of the folks from Mariskatania, in some ways they were decidedly different. Their features seemed more pinched and pointed, with their eyes curving up at the corners and their ears seeming to have slight points at the top. And no matter how they turned and moved, there was always a slight tinkling sound about them, as if the tiniest of bells were attached to their fingers and their toes, to their clothes and their hair. They were dressed in layers and layers of wispy ribbons and veils, seemingly made more from sunlight and mist than from any fabric. Most fantastic of all was how a shiny aura glowed about each of them, as if they were always lit in a nimbus of moon light. Strangely, they each had a large pair of transparent wings sprouting from their back, like those of a dragonfly.
But Sir Nathan was still pretty sure he could defeat them.
"Who are you and what do you want?" demanded the Hero, brandishing his sword at them just as he had learned in Basic Knight Training.
"Who are you to ask us such questions in our own home?!" said the dark haired one. She stomped her foot and tiny sparkles puffed out from underneath her slipper, accompanied by the sound of teeny-tiny chimes.
"Now, now, sweet sister. He is obviously lost and must be treated as a dear guest," said the fair-haired one in a soothing voice. This was KellBell, if Sir Nathan had gotten their names correct. KellBell turned from looking at RayRay and beamed a smile at Sir Nathan, one full of kindness and comfort. Which is why she didn't see RayRay flutter ten or fifteen feet into the air on buzzing wings and dive full speed at her back. Once more the pair was a brawling tangle of arms and legs and wings. They bounced across the ground like a tornado of sparkles and rainbows.
Sir Nathan took a moment to admire the young ladies' wings, now that he had a brief moment to himself. They protruded from between their shoulder blades, were three feet long and as transparent as a soap bubble. Even in the murky light of the Swamp Forest of Misery, light glimmered off of them like the rainbow reflections of the stained glass windows in the Big Comfy Chair Room. As thin and fragile as they looked, the wings appeared very tough indeed. No matter how the girls wrestled and fought and no matter how the wings got bent and smashed, they still wound up straight and intact in the end.
Sir Nathan noticed that either one of the girls could flap her wings quickly as they fought and the pair of them, wrapped together in a tangle of arms and legs, would rise up from the ground a few feet. They must be strong fliers indeed. The hum of the wings in motion reminded the Hero very much of the loud, deep, rattling buzz of the Grumble Bees that pollinated the Royal Garden.
Suddenly, in a flash of smoke and light, the pair disappeared. Sir Nathan stood still, quite in shock (but of course always ready for a fight). His shield and sword were raised for action. But there was no sign of the young ladies except for the fading ripples in the water from where they had been wrestling.
"My dear, sweet, young man," said a soft voice in his ear. The Hero flinched as if struck and whirled about quickly. There, standing directly behind him, were the two young ladies. They each wore smiles and looked completely mess-free, as if they hadn't been wrestling violently just a moment before.
Ignoring the sword pointed at her heart, RayRay simply stood with her hands folded and said, "You must be very tired and confused after all your journeying and what with your misadventures under the water." She pointed casually back over her shoulder at the pond where the Hero had been submerged minutes before. "You absolutely must be our guest and break fast with us."
Standing behind her sister, KellBell suddenly looked enraged at this invitation to eat with them. She raised her hands to attack and the Hero was surprised to see each finger was suddenly tipped in long talons, like the claws of a lion. But before she could move, RayRay made a quick motion with one finger and KellBell sank quickly into what moments before was solid ground. She sank up to her neck with a loud slurp and then, just as quickly, the ground dried up. It went in an instant from a sloshy mess to a dark mud to a hard-baked clay that completely circled KellBell in rock-hard ground. Only her head and the tip of one wing stuck up out of the earth.
"Shall we?" asked RayRay in a tone as innocent as a baby Licorice Lamb. She walked over to Sir Nathan and extended a hand to gently lower his sword arm. She then took his arm in hers and led him off through the forest. He stumbled as he walked, craning his neck to look behind him at the other young lady stuck in the ground. She seemed to be struggling to get free, but could only really move her head a little bit. She was shouting a steady stream of what were probably naughty words, but it all came out sounding like the chirp and chatter of birds and squirrels. The Hero thought it all very odd.
As they walked, it seemed as if the sun was suddenly shining and the Swamp Forest of Misery didn't seem as dark and dismal anymore. A dry path led before their feet and Sir Nathan saw his horse in a clearing, munching on a patch of sweet clover. Looking back over his shoulder once more, he saw that KellBell was no longer struggling. Instead she simply glared at her sister's back. Sir Nathan gave what he hoped was a look of apology as he was firmly led along through the woods.
* * * * *
An hour later found Sir Nathan sitting on a comfortable chair before a merry pink fire, eating the last of a delicious Huckle Nut Pie. He was in what RayRay described as her and her sister's living room, though no such room had been ever seen in Mariskatania. It was a leafy platform high up in a tree. Thick branches made up the floor and the roof and large shiny leaves made up the walls. Here and there, gaps in the branches and leaves let in a sun that shone brightly now. The chair itself was grown from living branches curving up out of the floor, but despite the lack of a cushion, Sir Nathan had never before sat in anything so comfortable. The fire burned happily in the middle of the room, surprisingly unconcerned that it didn't have any fuel to feed on and apparently content to hover in mid air. RayRay explained that the dancing flames were their guests and were just remaining in the one spot right now as a courtesy to her.
“Normally they're flickering all over the place and it's a wonder that sometimes I get any sleep," chuckled RayRay.
"Yes, indeed," agreed Sir Nathan, though more out of conversational politeness than with any real understanding of what he was seeing around him. Above and below he could see several other leafy rooms, though their purposes were unclear. The tree they were in towered above the others in the Swamp Forest of Misery, poking its leafy head into the sky. Though comfortable now, Sir Nathan still shook a bit when he remembered the climb up into the tree. Up he had come over weak-looking ladders and crooked stairs that meandered way out to where the branches were thin. More than once, the Hero was sure he was going to end up falling to his doom. He was ready to die for Mariskatania while fighting fire-breathing dragons, but he wasn't quite ready to die simply falling out of a tree. It didn't help his confidence that RayRay chose to fly past many of the more rickety-looking ladders instead of climbing up them. If she didn't trust the flimsy-looking things, as small as she was, what chance did he have all weighted down with his bulky armor?
"My sister and I live in this beautiful home," continued RayRay, "though we're not really here that much. Our home is really the entire Swamp Forest of Misery and we're constantly flying from one end to the other to tend to its beauty and grace."
"Beauty?" asked the Hero dubiously before he could stop himself, wondering if she was making a joke. How could she call such a miserable, wet, dreary swamp “beautiful”? He looked across the flickering flames at RayRay to see if she had heard him, hoping she hadn't. By the sour look on her face, she had. But before she could do anything terrible to him about it, a large object burst through one of the leafy walls in a shower of twigs and slammed into her. Sir Nathan barely got a brief glimpse of KellBell, covered in dried mud, as she tackled RayRay. The force of the attack carried the pair across the room to bash through the opposite wall and they could be heard bouncing and jostling and screaming as they crashed down through several layers of tree towards the ground far below.
Sir Nathan hopped out of his seat and moved as close to the fragile looking wall through which they had fallen as he dared. He tried to peek down through the busted branches, but could see no sign of the young ladies. However, he could still hear their screaming and shouting and shrieking, though it sounded quite distant. He couldn't make out any of the words, but he certainly recognized the tone. It sounded pretty much like Princess Abbey did when she was yelling at him for not picking up his armor-polishing kit.
Then, just as quickly, the forest was quiet again. He looked and listened, but saw and heard nothing. Getting up from where he knelt by the smashed wall, he turned and was quite surprised to see KellBell standing there in the room with him, admiring the cavorting pink flames. She wore a small, satisfied smile. She was still covered in mud, dried hard to a crust. Even her wings were caked and one was bent at a painful-looking angle. Noticing his stare, she looked down at herself and let out a small, "Oh." She winked an eye and the mud disappeared into nothingness. Sir Nathan was surprised to see that even her clothes changed in that instant, altering the cut and the rainbow hues of the filmy fabric. As always, her attire made her appear as if she wore a random collection of shimmers and sparkles.