Chapter 8 - Pursuit

Let us shift our attention now to Cable, who was taking his time in the kitchen. At first, he tried to track down the mouse that had distracted him in his duel with Andres. But the mouse proved to be rather elusive. And besides, there were so many mice in Skittlechip’s kitchen that there was no guarantee that the mouse he found would be the guilty mouse. And Cable, who really had a soft heart for animals, didn’t want to squash an innocent mouse.

At that point, Cable’s attention was diverted to the brownie that he found still lying on the counter. Andres had won it, but he’d left it sitting there, and Cable couldn’t help but wonder what it tasted like. All else being equal, Cable would have preferred a slab of venison. But there was no venison lying around, and--after hours of fencing--he really was rather hungry. So, after looking around and seeing no one, he decided to sneak a bite of Andres’ brownie.

As expected, it was delicious.

You see, for Cable, time had a tendency to stand still. Most of the time, Cable just wasn’t in a rush. After all, he was not particularly excited about getting dressed up and going to the banquet for Julianna’s second birthday. And when Cable wasn’t excited about something, he found it very easy to find other things to distract his attention. In fact, after Andres had sprinted out of the kitchen, Cable hadn’t even once thought about the fact that he really needed to be getting ready himself. Time became irrelevant.

That is, it became irrelevant until the trumpet sounded, echoing through the castle, announcing to all that the banquet was about to begin. That’s when Cable realized that he’d better get moving.

He began to run back to his room. His run wasn’t as desperate as Andres’ run had been, for Andres was very concerned about timeliness and the like. But still, he was moving at a relatively rapid clip when he heard a sound down the hallway. He stopped and saw Mitch stepping out of his room. Mitch was the last person Cable wanted to see at this instant, so he hugged the wall in an attempt to hide himself. Fortunately, Mitch quietly shut the door and headed down the hall in the opposite direction. When he disappeared around the corner, Cable resumed his trot.

As Cable approached his room, his analytical mind went to work. Why had Mitch been in their room? Was he just checking on them, to make sure they wouldn’t be late? That could be the case, but that would make Mitch late himself. And it wasn’t like Mitch to risk being tardy himself by checking on others.

Cable reached the door and gently nudged it open. After slipping inside and shutting the door, he quietly called out, “Andres, are you in here?” His call, of course, was met with silence. Walking around, he called out for Remma as well. Still, there was no reply.

By this time, Cable’s mind began racing. Why would Andres just leave and go to the banquet without him? That was odd. Andres didn’t like to go to social events by himself--especially if he was late. He just hated to stand out in a crowd. No, if Andres was going to be late, he would have made sure that Cable was late with him.

Then Cable looked around the room. He saw Remma’s clothes lying neatly folded on the boys’ bed. That was no surprise; she was always leaving her clothes in the boys room. “She just doesn’t want to clutter her own room,” Cable muttered to himself. But more surprising was the fact that Andres’ dress clothes were still hanging up next to Cable’s. Granted, Andres didn’t particularly like dressing up. But there was no way that he would have left for the banquet dressed in the sweaty clothes that he’d been fencing in.

Cable wandered to the back side of the room and gazed out the window. The southern woods lay off in the distance. Suddenly, something that looked like a distance cloud of dust caught his attention. As he focused his eyes, he saw what appeared to be two horses and riders at full gallop. He continued to stare, and two things struck him. First, the figures were not getting any larger. That meant that they must be galloping away. That was odd in itself, since pretty much the entire kingdom was coming toward the castle to celebrate Julianna’s birthday. The second thing that struck Cable were the objects that seemed to be lying crosswise on one of the horse’s backs. It wasn’t unusual to see horses carrying packs, but one of these packs was unusual in that it was moving. In fact, it was moving violently.

That was when Cable put the pieces together in his head. The moving “pack” was really Andres. He’d been kidnapped!

Now, it might seem strange to you that Cable would conclude so quickly that his brother had been captured. But Andres and Cable, for all their scuffling, were very close brothers. They just had a sense when one or the other was in trouble. And, in a way that only an older brother could understand, Cable knew that Andres was in danger and needed his help.

Cable was faced with a dilemma. If he waited much longer, he knew people would be searching for him. He also knew that his father the king wouldn’t approve of his striking off alone. If Cable was to move, he had to move immediately and avoid being seen by anyone. This was somewhat challenging for Cable, since most of the time he avoided moving rapidly. But concern for his brother lent wings to his feet, and he swiftly went into action.

First, he grabbed his bow and a quiver full of arrows. Then he slung his sword on. After that, he pulled a rope from out of a corner of his closet. Cable smiled to himself--the rope was one thing that the snoopy Mitch had thankfully never found. Mitch often prowled around the hallways at night, making sure the boys weren’t out and about. The rope had been a frequently-used means of escape for the boys, as they used it to lower themselves out of their room and escape Mitch’s watchful and prying eyes.

Cable carefully tied one end of the rope to the bedpost and threw the other end out the window. Then, securing his weapons, he gently slipped out the window and lowered himself to the ground, which lay about 20 feet below. Once he’d regained his footing, he dashed to the stables to get his great white horse, Ranger. His horse, who knew Cable very well, could almost sense the urgency in Cable’s eyes. In an instant, horse and rider were off, heading to the south.

Cable’s sense of urgency was commendable. However, as we will see, his sense of planning was quite feeble. He’d failed to think of packing any rations for himself, nor did he bring any water. Perhaps he thought that he’d be able to quickly apprehend the kidnappers and that the whole ordeal would be over within an hour or two. But if he’d stopped and thought for a moment, he’d have realized that such an undertaking--with one teenager going up against two grown (and likely armed) men--would be neither easy nor swift. However, such thoughts do not often go through the minds of impassioned teens. Cable was worried for his brother, and he reacted instinctively.

Cable urged his horse onward. He could see that his adversaries were approaching the edge of the woods. He knew that, once they entered the densely forested southern woods, they would not be easily found again. Ranger instinctively knew that Cable needed speed and he practically flew over the level terrain in pursuit. His feet seemed to nary touch the turf as he raced onward, gaining ground by the second. The pursuit for Andres was on.

Chapter 7 - Through the Window

The boys were pleased to see old Skittlechip walk around the corner. After their tussle with the ever-stodgy Mitch, the fun-loving Skittlechip was a welcome relief. As he plodded down the hallway, Skittlechip winked at the boys and in a hoarse whisper said, “Follow me, boys. We’ve got better things to do than wait for a girl to change ‘er clothes!” The boys followed without a word.

Skittlechip and his wife Doris were loved by everyone in the castle. He had been a prisoner for seven years under the wicked reign of then-King Slumbutter. Separated from his beloved wife (who had been forced to work as slave in Slumbutter’s kitchen), Skittlechip had nearly given up hope when King Maximilian arrived to liberate the kingdom four years ago. After he’d been set free, he and Doris put together every spare penny they had and bought a lamb. Then, to display their gratitude to the king, they had made a large pot of lamb stew and brought it to the king. The king had been so moved by the sacrificial gift that he made Skittlechip and Doris his royal chefs.

Soon the boys entered Skittlechip’s kitchen. It was a complete disaster. Cooking implements lay everywhere, and crumbs of various sorts were scattered all over the floor. “We’ve gotta get Butch in here,” muttered Skittlechip, referring to his pet dog. “He does a whole lot better job at picking up scraps than my broom does, plus it keeps me from having to bend over.”

Andres couldn’t help but laugh. Skittlechip’s belly protruded nearly a foot from his chest. Andres knew that if he ever bent over without bending his knees, he might never get up again. Skittlechip saw Andres chuckle, and he turned and said, “What’s so funny, yer little whelp? D’ya think I’m pudgy or something? I’ll have you know that when I was your age, I...well, I...well, I guess I was just as pudgy as I am today!” Then Skittlechip burst into a deep belly-laugh that caused his whole upper body to jiggle like a bag of jelly in an earthquake. He was one of those refreshing sorts of people that are genuinely able to laugh at themselves.

The next words Andres heard were, “Heads up, mate!” Andres looked up and saw a rolling pin catapulting toward his head. He quickly grabbed it with his right hand. Skittlechip smiled mischievously as he hurled another rolling pin toward Cable. Cable instinctively ducked, then grabbed the pin as it whizzed by overhead. Both boys gave a quizzical look at the odd cook.

But Skittlechip never saw the boys’ expressions, because he turned his back and grabbed two large black skillets. Without looking, he tossed them backwards toward the boys as well. “Grab these too, you chuckleheads!” he bellowed. Cable deftly grabbed his skillet by the handle. Andres, on the other hand, swung his rolling pin at the skillet and struck it like a bat hitting a ball. A great CLANG resulted, causing all three to drop everything and cover their ears. Skittlechip nearly went cross-eyed at the noise.

“What did you do that for, Andres?” asked Cable, shaking his head?

“I don’t know,” replied Andres. “What in the world are you supposed to do when a skillet comes flying toward your head? Kiss it?” Andres didn’t think that his reaction had been all that irrational at all.

The boys almost got into an argument, but Skittlechip quickly intervened. “It’s about time you boys did a little kitchen dueling!” he said. “Grab your rolling pins--those are your swords! And grab your skillets--those are you shields! Now go to it!”

Andres looked at Skittlechip as though the cook had grown a second head. He shook his head, figuring that he couldn’t have possibly heard Skittlechip correctly. Finally, he blurted out, “Are you crazy? Cable and I have been dueling all day. I’m sick of it! I always lose! The last thing in the world I want to do is more dueling! I’d rather...well, I’d rather dance with a dumb girl at this big banquet than do more dueling.”

Skittlechip just smiled--he was always smiling--and said, “Well, now that you mention it, I guess you are right: I am crazy! I appreciate your asking, though of course you already knew that. But you see, I was trying out a new recipe for chocolate brownies this morning, and I need someone to give them a try. The winner of the duel gets the first brownie. So en garde! Fight!”

This was all Andres needed to spur him on. Nobody made brownies like Skittlechip, and no one loved brownies like Andres. The boy fell to fighting with a vengeance.

As for Cable, he didn’t have much of a sweet tooth. He didn’t fight for the brownie; fighting for his own pride was sufficient motivation. Cable quickly gained his feet and parried aside Andres’ initial thrust. The duel was on.

According to the usual pattern, Andres came on strong initially, while Cable held back. Andres continued to attack, yet he grew frustrated by Cable’s seemingly impregnable defense. He switched from right-handed to left-handed; he snuck around kitchen counters and tried to attack from behind; he leapt up onto a bench and tried to attack from up high. Nothing seemed to work. Cable looked at his adversary and could sense impatience. He got ready to move in for the kill.

Just then, a mouse scurried across the floor. Mice weren’t all that uncommon in Skittlechip’s kitchen. There were always lots of treats lying on the floor. But Cable hated mice, and the furry little creature darting across his feet distracted him. Just as he raised his foot to stomp on the creature, he felt a rolling pin being gently thrust into his gut.

Andres had won. The split-second diversion had been all he’d needed to gain his first victory of the day.

Andres threw the rolling pin and skillet into the air. As they clanked to the floor, he leaped in the air and shouted with joy. “I won! I finally won!” he cried out at the top of his lungs. “I can’t believe it! I finally beat Cable!” He danced around the kitchen in sheer ecstasy, raising his hands in the air. Victory is sweet when one has only tasted defeat for so long. He even forgot about the brownie for a moment.

Cable gently put his rolling pin and skillet down. He grimaced a bit and shook his head. Of course, he couldn’t help but be somewhat happy for his little brother. But he also couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Cable was a competitor, and he hated losing. He’d been learning over the past few years how to be a graceful loser, but he didn’t figure he’d ever be a happy loser.

Suddenly, the sound of a bell was heard. Skittlechip spoke up and said, “I hate to interrupt your celebration, Master Andres. But the banquet begins in fifteen minutes. It’s probably about time to get ready, wouldn’t you think?”

Andres immediately stopped his victory lap around the kitchen, and the smile instantaneously disappeared from his face. “Oh no, Mitch is gonna KILL us if we’re late!” he cried out in desperation. He ran out of the kitchen with all haste and sprinted back toward the bedroom.

Cable yelled out after Andres, “I’ll be right there!” Time just wasn’t much of a big deal to Cable. Besides, he had to find that dumb mouse and put an end to its miserable life.

When Andres arrived at his room, he found that the door was still closed. He bellowed, “Remma, aren’t you done yet?” Hearing no reply, he determined that--one way or another--he was going to get into that room. He backed up to the other side of the hallway and, with grim determination painted all over his face, he charged at the door. He lowered his shoulder and prepared to barge his way into the room.

Too late, Andres realized the door wasn’t even closed. He plowed through the entryway and landed face-down on the floor. He immediately looked around to see if anyone had observed his face-plant. Seeing no one, he quickly got to his feet and dusted himself off.

Now Andres, who was a very observant boy, noticed three things that were out of place. First of all, he noticed Remma’s old clothes lying on the floor. It wasn’t that Andres minded the mess; it was just that Remma never just left clothes lying around. She was quite meticulous about keeping her things picked up. Second, he noticed the silence (which is something that boys don’t often notice, or even appreciate). Usually when Andres entered a room which was occupied by Remma, he had to brace himself for a tongue-lashing of some sort. But this time there was nothing. Third, he noticed the back window was open. Remma never left the window open when she was getting dressed, because she didn’t want the wind to mess up her hair.

These three observations immediately caught Andres’ attention and put him on guard. He walked quietly over to the window. His first instinct was to seek reinforcements, so he called out, “Cable, are you here yet?”

But the words had barely escaped his mouth when Andres felt someone grab him from behind. Before he could turn around and see who it was, a hood was thrust over his head and quickly tied down. Andres struggled in an attempt to resist, but he was unable to see a thing. So his efforts were futile. Soon his hands and feet were bound. Once that was done, he felt some hands grab him and lift him from the ground. He then felt himself being tossed away.

Andres expected to feel the floor, but he didn’t. That was when he realized he’d been tossed out the window. As he hurtled toward the ground below, three thoughts crossed his mind. The first was that this could be the end. The second was that his sister Remma wasn’t all that bad after all.

And the third was that he’d forgotten all about the brownie.

Chapter 6 - The Race

“Last one to the room is a rotten lizard egg!”

The voice was Cable's, as he barged through the back door of the castle and dashed down the hallway toward his room. Andres, Cable's younger brother, just shook his head. Why does he have to turn everything into a race? he thought to himself.

Andres was tired and was in no mood for a race. Though he was a very rugged 14-year-old boy, he really didn't feel like running another step. After all, he and Cable had just finished about 6 hours of training in fencing. Under the tutelage of Master Slickwidget, Andres and Cable had spent almost all day fencing in every way imaginable. They had fenced with their eyes open, and they had fenced with their eyes blindfolded. They fenced left-handed, they fenced right-handed, and they fenced with both hands on the hilt. They fenced on two feet, on one foot, and on horseback. Master Slickwidget even strung them up by their feet and made them have a fencing match upside-down. Andres was sick of fencing.

And he was sick of Cable. Andres had lost virtually every fencing match that day. Most of the matches were pretty close, and a couple of times Master Slickwidget had called it a draw. But Andres had not been able to claim a single victory. And the match while fencing upside-down had been the last straw. That had been Andres' best showing, as he had knocked Cable's sword out of his hand. But before Andres could strike for the “kill”, the blood rushed to his head and he fainted. His one chance for victory had slipped out of his grasp. His frustration had boiled over after he had regained consciousness and got back on his feet. He had turned to his teacher and asked, “What kind of name is Slickwidget, anyway? Did you just make it up so that you could sound like a real great sword fighter?”

Master Slickwidget had turned to Andres and stared at him for a few moments. Andres had been unnerved by Slickwidget's expression and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have an extra head sticking out of my body or something? Or do I have an extra arm? I wish I did, so I could finally win one of these dumb fencing matches!” In reply, Master Slickwidget—with that annoying tone he adopted when he was irritated with the boys—had said, “I shall let your father the king know that you have spoken to me in such a preposterous manner. Now begone!”

No, it had not been a very good day for Andres. And now his 16-year-old brother Cable wanted to make it worse by making him race to his room. Didn't he know when to let up? Hadn't his twenty-eight victories in fencing been enough for today?

Then Andres remembered something. He had stuffed a bag of marbles into his pocket earlier that day, in anticipation of one of these races. Reacting quickly, he shook some marbles into his hand and threw them on the floor in the direction of Cable. Cable almost instantly stepped on one of the marbles, sending him flying into the air. As he landed with a thud, Andres dashed by. He threw the rest of the marbles down for good measure and pressed on toward his room. Behind him, he heard Cable tumble to the floor two or three more times. Andres turned the corner of the hallway and approached his room. Ah, victory would be sweet this time!

Andres grabbed the door-handle and pushed. It didn't budge. The room was locked! Andres pounded on the door and bellowed out, “Why is my bedroom door locked! Who is in there! Who is robbing me of the one time today that I'm actually about to win something?”

A feminine voice on the other side of the doorway replied, “It's me, and I need to get ready for the feast. So stop bothering me! I'll be out soon.”

It was his 12-year-old sister Remmaline. And it was the last voice in the world that he wanted to hear at that particular point in time. Andres could hear footsteps behind him; he knew that Cable was rapidly approaching, having recovered from the assault of the marbles. So Andres banged on the door again and yelled, “Why are you in my room? Get out of there RIGHT NOW!”

Remmaline answered without the slightest hint of urgency. “I'm using your room to get ready for the feast, because your room is bigger than my room, and I need all the room I can get. Besides, my room is neat, and yours is messy. You won't even notice if it gets a little messier while I get ready. So stop bothering me.”

For a moment, Andres wanted nothing more than to choke his sister. Then he caught himself and panicked, because she was right—a great feast was happening tonight! It was their sister Julianna's second birthday today, and their father—King Maximilian—always made a big deal out of birthdays. The whole city was invited to the castle for a feast whenever one of the kids had a birthday. And here was Andres, hot and sweaty and unable to get into his own room to get cleaned up. Andres was not happy. He pounded on the door again and cried out, “How in the world am I supposed to get ready if you're in my room with the door locked?!”

Remmaline calmly replied, “Boys don't need as much time as girls. Mama said so. I'll be out in a minute.”

Andres grimaced. He knew that, for females, the phrase “a minute” didn't really mean much of anything. All it really meant was “not now.” He knew he was doomed. The feast began in less than an hour. Already, people were beginning to arrive and take their seats in the banquet hall. And here he was, locked out of his own room.

A sound startled him, and Andres turned around. Cable was approaching. The tall, lanky brother had a frown on his face; though he spoke no words, his expression clearly cried out, “Revenge!” Andres saw his brother start to reach out, and he saw his brother's right leg start to go in motion. Andres had been through this before; his brother was going to try and trip him. So instinctively he turned around and jumped back.

The next thing Andres heard was a loud thud. When Andres turned around, he grimaced. The good news was, Andres had avoided the trip. The bad news was, Cable had accidentally tripped someone else—Mitch the butler. Mitch was always breaking up their fights. And now he'd gotten into the middle of another one. Andres had been so focused on Cable and on winning the race to the room that he'd not heard the butler approach. Andres closed his eyes and hoped the whole thing would go away. He opened them again and realized that it wouldn't. Once again, Mitch had seen them fight and would no doubt tell their father.

“Kindly give me a hand, Master Cable,” Mitch said with his characteristic lofty-sounding voice. Cable helped Mitch get to his feet. Mitch was a tall, skinny man with a long nose that Andres figured kind of resembled a carrot. He had a long face with a chin that stuck out and a mouth that never, ever smiled.

Cable opened his mouth, and Andres knew he was going to tell Mitch about how everything was really his fault. But before Cable could say a word, Mitch raised his hand and stopped him. “Master Cable and Master Andres, I know that I do not need to remind you that the banquet shall commence in 53 minutes,” Mitch declared. “And I also know that if you fail to repair to the banquet hall at the appropriate time, then I shall be compelled to inform the king of your delinquent behavior.”

“Yes, Mitch,” Cable replied. Upon hearing that, Mitch dusted himself off, adjusted his clothes, and went on his way.

Neither Andres nor Cable particularly cared for Mitch. He had actually been a soldier for Slumbutter, one of the infamous “black knights” that formerly opposed the reign of King Maximilian. But when the king had triumphantly returned four years ago, Mitch had taken advantage of the king's gracious offer of amnesty. He had been one of the 100 black knights to cast his armor into the moat and join the king's people. The King had taken a liking to him and had asked him to be his personal servant. Mitch had agreed, and he'd been in the castle ever since.

Andres had no idea why his father had taken such a liking to Mitch. He was perpetually grumpy. In fact, Andres had never remembered a single time when he'd been nice. Once, when Mitch had been sleeping, Andres had snuck into his room, taken some ink, and drawn a long line across his chest. When he'd woken up, Mitch cried out, “What has been done?”

To which Andres had replied, “Oh Mitch, I'm afraid that while you were sleeping, a surgeon came in and made a cut and removed your personality!”

Mitch hadn't appreciated that particular prank, and he'd informed the king of his son's impudence. Andres could vividly recall the scolding that he'd received as a result, and he spent the next two days chopping and stacking wood. But all in all, Andres figured that it had been worth it.

As Mitch disappeared down the hallway, Cable turned to Andres and whispered, “Is Remma in our room?”

“Yep,” Andres replied. “We're doomed.”

Just then, the boys heard footsteps coming down the hallway from around the corner. They were the distinct, heavy steps of Skittlechip the royal cook. The boys looked at each other and smiled. Their life was about to get a little bit better, at least in the short term.

Chapter 5 - The Betrayal

Gregorex stood outside his home, staring at his horse. He'd had a very fitful night's rest, and he'd gotten up very early to load up his horse. Now he was running through a mental checklist, ensuring that he'd loaded everything he'd need for the journey to the castle. Food? Yes, he had plenty of that. Weapons? Yes, he'd brought his spear, his bow, and a quiver full of arrows. Pillow? Whoops—he'd forgotten his pillow. Though Gregorex loved the outdoors, he wasn't one of those guys that used rocks as pillows. He needed a good pillow, or he'd end up with a bad headache. Philip alone would cause enough of a headache; he didn't need some rock-pillow to make things even worse.

Gregorex reentered his house and strode over to his bed in order to retrieve his pillow. As he grabbed it, he heard Samek's voice from the other side of the small abode. “Gregorex, I have a question to ask you,” he said.

“What is it?” snapped Gregorex. He immediately regretted his brusque tone. He always got tense when missions came up. He just wanted to get going, and he wasn't crazy about dealing with personal issues at such times.

“Yes, father—what is it?” came a voice from the entryway. Philip had just arrived as well. Doesn't that guy know when he's not wanted? Gregorex wondered to himself.

Samek turned and faced his son. “Ah, Philip—you've finally seen fit to enter our home,” he said with an edge of sarcasm. “Please have a seat and make yourself...well, invisible.” Then, turning back to Gregorex and using a softer tone, he said, “I believe that we should also send you with the Treasure of Cliffton.”

“What is that?” Gregorex replied. He'd never heard of the Treasure of Cliffton.

Samek reached under this bed and pulled out a bag. “When the king dispatched us to Cliffton, he handed this bag to me. He told me to guard it and protect it until the proper time. If Slumbutter and Dor-ko are approaching our fair village, then I think that it would be best to send it away. I'd hate to have it fall into enemy hands.”

“What's in the bag?” asked Gregorex.

“I don't know,” replied Samek. While Samek spoke, Gregorex sneaked a peak at Philip. He was watching them intently, listening to every word. Doesn't that guy know when to mind his own business? Gregorex again wondered to himself.

“Well, if you don't know what's in the bag, how do you know when 'the proper time' is?” asked Gregorex. “Maybe we should pull it out right now! Maybe it's some kind of secret weapon that will turn all of Slumbutter's army into chipmunks or something. Why don't we take a look?”

“No, Gregorex, we mustn't do that,” said Samek. “You know me—patience isn't really my thing. And for the past four years, I've gone to bed every night wondering what is in the bag. But the king said to wait for the great messenger of the high king—Pendramma the owl. The messenger would make it clear that it was time to reveal the treasure. That time has not yet come. So here,” Samek continued, extending the treasure-containing bag toward Gregorex, “take the bag, and be on your way.”

“But father!” interjected Philip, who had remained silent up till this point. “I am your son! Surely I should be the one that is entrusted with this great treasure!”

Samek turned and stared at his son. He was silent for a few brief but poignant seconds. Then he said, “Philip, if you had cared about this treasure, you would have lived with us these past four years. But you wanted nothing to do with us. Gregorex is the one who has sacrificed, who has shared the burden of caring for and protecting this great village. He is the one who shall bear the treasure. As for you, Philip—show you are worthy and protect Gregorex along the way.”

Samek then moved over toward Philip as though to give him a hug. Philip took a step backward and extended his hand instead. “As you wish, father,” he replied, coldly shaking Samek's hand.

Gregorex then stepped in and gave Samek a great hug. “Thanks for trusting me, master,” he whispered. “I won't disappoint you.” Tears started to enter his eyes, and he quickly wiped them away and ran out the door to his horse. “Let's get rolling,” he muttered to Philip as he mounted Spartacus.

Philip followed Gregorex out the door and mounted his own horse, Cabela. “I'm right behind you, Gregorex,” he said. The two riders then spurred their horses on and headed toward the Great Swamp.

Gregorex relished the ride. He pushed Spartacus to gallop as fast as he could, and Spartacus obliged. Gregorex followed as best he could. As they entered the swamp, Spartacus zig-zagged at breakneck speed, following the course that he—and only he—knew. Cabela followed in his footsteps, and Philip had to hold on for dear life. Gregorex stole a glance behind him. Sure enough, Philip's knuckles were white as he clung to his horse, knowing that—if he were to fall off the horse and into the swamp—he might never be seen again. Gregorex smiled. It was always fun to see Philip sweat a little bit.

At the far end of the swamp lay the edge of a cliff. This was the best part, Gregorex thought to himself. He pushed Spartacus onward. As they emerged from the swamp, the great horse rushed toward the cliff edge and leaped into the air. Gregorex looked behind him and examined the expression on Philip's face. He couldn't help but laugh at what he saw. One of Philip's eyes was as wide as a saucer, expressing utter fear. The other eye was closed shut, not wishing to see where they were about to go.

What Gregorex knew was that the cliff edge was a bit deceiving. Hidden from view was a small landing, about 10 feet below the edge of the cliff. Gregorex landed with a slight jolt and again looked behind him. Cabela landed as well, though not as gracefully as Spartacus. The jarring landing caused Philip to fly off his horse and head to the abyss below. But—somewhat to Gregorex' chagrin—Philip managed to grab his horse's neck before he went over the cliff. He quickly scurried back on his horse, gathered his composure and motioned to Gregorex to go on.

The next few hours were spent in silence. The two riders followed the trail along the cliff, slowly descending as they went. Eventually they came to a valley which was overgrown with trees. The trail was narrow, and it became clear why these woods were such a barrier to any invading force. They were so thick and dense that no army could penetrate with more than a column, unless they took the time to carve a path for themselves.

The riders found a stream and paused to give the horses a chance to get a drink. Gregorex pulled out some food, and he and Philip shared a silent meal. Then, when the horses seemed refreshed, they forded the stream and continued their journey on the other side. The trail then started to weave its way upward, out of the thick forest. Soon they were heading up another great rise. To their right was a cliff face, and to the left—a couple of thousand feet below—frolicked the stream that they'd visited earlier.

Finally Philip spoke. “Just tell me one thing,” he said to Gregorex. “Why don't you care?”

“What in the world is that supposed to mean?” Gregorex retorted.

“Four years ago, when Maximilian came, you never once asked about mother or Annala. Why didn't you care? Why did you just follow his orders like a puppy dog?”

Gregorex leaped off his horse and reined in his rage. Grabbing the sack that was mounted on Cabela's back, he pulled Philip to a halt. “Don't you dare accuse me of not caring,” he said, fighting the urge to yell. “A day has not passed that I haven't thought of your sister.”

“Then why didn't you say anything to the king?” Philip pressed.

“Look, pal, I don't know why the king let those bums go,” Gregorex replied. “But this is one thing I do know. I can be a pretty wretched guy myself, and the king is good to me. He even gave me a special job to do, roaming the woods and looking for bad guys. I love what I do. Why should I be mad at him for being good to others? Besides, the king is the one person that may actually be able to help me find Annala. Why would I want to insult him?”

A brief pause ensued. Then, seeming to ignore Gregorex' comments, Philip said, “By the way, you don't actually believe all that bunk that father has told you, do you?”

“What are you saying?” Gregorex asked. This was yet another conversation that he just didn't want to have.

“You know that Slumbutter didn't kidnap anyone, right?”

“What?!”

“Hey, Gregorex, here is the truth. My father is such a grumpy ogre that my mom and Annala couldn't wait to get away. They left with Slumbutter because they wanted to.”

“What?!” Gregorex repeated. He was beside himself with anger.

“Gregorex, everybody knows that my father is a hothead,” Philip continued. “He's a petty little tyrant. I can't blame my mother for wanting to get away. I'm sure that she was as anxious to get out of his household as I was.”

“Who has been feeding these lies to you?” Gregorex asked. He wanted to yank Philip off his horse and administer a severe beating to the insolent whelp. But remembering that Philip was, after all, his master's son, he fought the urge. He turned his back and tried to regain his composure.

The next thing Gregorex heard was a shout from behind him, with Philip declaring “Supremacy and dominion!” Gregorex turned around, just in time to see Philip's staff heading straight for his head. There was not enough time to duck. Gregorex crumpled to the ground in a heap and blacked out for a few seconds.

When he regained consciousness, he forced his eyes open and saw Philip grab the bag containing the Treasure of Cliffton. He pulled out a trumpet. As Gregorex stared at it, he saw that it was the brightest, most glorious instrument he'd ever laid eyes on. He had to squint to avoid being blinded by the light.

Yet he was amazed to hear Philip say, “What is this rusty piece of trash?” Then Gregorex saw Philip put it to his lips and attempt to blow. Nothing came out. “This mouthpiece tastes like filth!” Philip bellowed.

Gregorex struggled to his feet and knocked the trumpet out of Philip's hands. “You never have been able to recognize excellence when you see it, you knucklehead!” Gregorex yelled. “You can't see it for what it is, because you have the heart of a fool!”

The next thing Gregorex felt was another blow to the head. He fell to the ground again, and his world became dark. He would not see anything again for a long time.

As he tumbled to the ground, he brushed against the trumpet. It fell over the edge of the trail and bounded toward the stream below. Philip stared and shrugged. His mission was just beginning.

Chapter 4 - The Emergence of Philip

Gregorex watched as Philip, the son of Samek, approached the council. He marveled at Philip’s audacity. The boy that wanted to live as a virtual recluse--who lived on the outskirts of Cliffton and who hadn’t bothered to see his father for weeks--now wanted to be at the center of everything.

Philip walked up to Korbi and started to whisper. This was just too much. “Didn’t your mother teach you not to whisper?!” he growled. Then, as soon as he said it, he inhaled deeply in a futile attempt to suck the words back into his mouth. It was to no avail. The words had been spoken, and Philip’s head abruptly turned.

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Gregorex knew that the topic of Philip’s mother was extremely sensitive. In years past, Philip had spent many hours in the fields with Gregorex--Philip working as a son, Gregorex as a servant. Philip had never particularly enjoyed manual labor, and he wasn’t particularly good at it, either. Whether it was planting or harvesting, Philip took twice as long as Gregorex to do anything in the fields. But he did it anyway. And, for a few years, the two had worked amiably together. They swatted flies, exchanged jokes, and developed the unique camaraderie that accompanies hard work in the hot son.

But when Philip’s mother disappeared on the day that Slumbutter and his depraved cronies had passed through their fields, everything changed for Philip. He became very quiet and withdrawn. There were days when he either wouldn’t leave the house, or when he’d disappear into the woods. His countenance was permanently soured, and his spirit became bitter. Samek, who was not particularly adept at dealing with emotions, didn’t know what to say. So, for the most part, he said nothing.

A short time after the disappearance of Philip’s mother, King Maximilian himself had paid a visit to Samek’s farm. Samek was flustered; he had no idea how to behave in the presence of a king. So he stared for a few moments, abruptly laid face-down in the dirt, and then shouted to Gregorex and Philip, “For goodness sake, boys, put your faces to the ground! It’s the king!” Subletly was not one of Samek’s strong points. If he’d bothered to look, he’d have noticed that Gregorex had bowed the second that he caught sight of the king’s robes.

King Maximilian quickly had put everyone at ease, “Please stand, my friends,” he’d interjected. Then he asked, “Samek, may we sit down in your home for a few minutes?” Samek instantly vaulted to his feet and, without looking, said, “For goodness sake, boys, get up! Didn’t you hear the king?” If he’d bothered to look around, he’d have noticed that Gregorex and Philip had actually already leapt to their feet and headed inside.

Gregorex recalled the conversation that had followed around the table. It was at this time that the king had asked Samek to go to Cliffton. He had said, “Samek, you’ve been a farmer for many years. Now, I need you as a guardian. The enemy that has passed by will some day rise again. If he ever chooses to attack, he will do so from the south. You are a leader and a warrior, and I want you to be my eyes and ears in the village of Cliffton. Will you do that for me? Will you watch the southern woodlands and alert me if trouble arises? And will you be my first line of defense if the enemy ever approaches? I would be honored if you would serve me in that way.”

Gregorex would never forget Samek’s reply. “Well, Your Majesty, I’ve sure learned a lot about farming over the years. I’ve developed a bit of a green thumb, if I do say so myself.” Samek had then paused to stare at his thumb, which was not the least bit green. “But...well, I suppose anyone can use a change of scenery from time to time. I accept!” The king then extended his hand, and Samek shook it heartily.

However, the brief exchange had been abruptly interrupted by Philip. “Father, have you no courage? Why won’t you stand up to this king!” he cried. Ever since the disappearance of his mother, Philip addressed Samek as “Father” rather than “Dad”, a change that Gregorex had noted immediately. Then, to everyone’s shock, Philip had walked over and stood between his father and the king. Pointing his finger in the face of Maximilian and with a tone of sheer belligerence, he asked, “Why didn’t you stop them? If you’re such a great king, why did you let Slumbutter go? Why didn’t you just kill the wretched rebels when you had them in your grasp? They spit on you, and you let them go! And now I don’t have a mother or a sister any more! What good are you? You aren’t strong; you are weak!”

Gregorex had turned his face away from the outburst. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Whoever spoke to the king like that? Gregorex had waited for the wrath of the king to descend on Philip.

But the wrath never came. Instead, a gentle voice replied, “My son--some day you will understand. But not today. Today, I just ask for the three of you to follow me. I hope that is enough for now.”

It had been enough for Samek and for Gregorex. Within a few days, they had packed up their meager belongings and moved to Cliffton. But it simply wasn’t enough for Philip. Though he accompanied Samek and Gregorex to Cliffton, he refused to live with them. Instead, he’d chosen to live well outside the center of town. He only came into town when absolutely necessary, and he only spoke with his father if he had to. The tension had grieved his father for four years. But Samek had a job to do for the king, and--despite the disdain of his only son--he’d served the king to the best of his ability.

*********************************************

So that is why Gregorex wished he’d never uttered those words about Philip’s mother. But that is the way it is with words--once they are spoken, they become eternal and unretractable. That fact had driven Gregorex crazy for years.

Gregorex waited for an outburst from Philip, and he tried to muster up the courage to utter some kind of apology. But before he could say a thing, Philip surprised him by saying, “Ah, Gregorex! You are so right. I apologize for my rudeness.”

If there was one thing Gregorex hated more than Philip’s rudeness, it was Philip’s fake politeness. Gregorex made a mental note to not bother with the planned apology.

Philip continued. “I was just telling my good friend Korbi that the mission is too much for one person to handle alone.” Gregorex bristled and shook his head while Philip spoke. “The mission is exceedingly dangerous, yet it is exceedingly important.” Then turning to Samek, Philip said, “Father, I propose--indeed, I insist--that I accompany Gregorex. If both of us go, one of us will be sure to make it through.”

An awkward silence ensued. Gregorex wanted to speak, but he couldn’t quite form the words in his head. Finally, Old Ferd spoke up. “Sire,” he said softly, “I fear that young Philip is not proven.” Gregorex nodded in agreement.

Samek replied quickly--too quickly, in Gregorex’ estimation. “You are right, Old Ferd. But he is right as well. It is too risky to send only one. And since I can’t go myself, my son shall go along as well. Get ready, boys.”

Gregorex could tell from the tone of Samek’s voice that the matter had been settled. Once Samek set his mind on something, there was no detering him. For the most part, Gregorex was quite impressed with the wisdom that Samek displayed. But as is so often the case with wise men, they have blind spots. In this case, the blind spot was his own son.

Gregorex could see trouble coming from miles away, and he saw it now. And there was nothing he could do about it. He began to walk away to prepare for the journey.