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.
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