The Fallen Prince That Never Was

by A. G. Higgins

  Chapter 6

  A Kiss is but a Kiss

  The Dark Lord of Rock Fall Castle, King Evil, was a frog. Yes, the type of frog with a shiny gold crown and a silly red cape. The type of frog, who magically turns into a handsome prince when kissed by a princess – Therein lies the problem...

  “CALLING ALL NOBLE MEN, KNIGHTS AND BRAVE CHAMPIONS – EVEN REPLUSIVE HAIRY WOODS MEN WIELDING GIGANTIC AXES TO MAKE UP FOR THEIR SHORTAGE OF MANHOOD. ARE YOU UNDER–PAID, OVERWORKED, NO HEALTH CARE OR DENTAL BENEFITS? ARE YOU LEFT WITH A GENERAL FEELING OF NOT BEING APPRECIATED? DOES YOUR EMPLOYER CONSISTENTLY FAIL TO NOTICE YOUR TRUE POTENTIAL? DOES YOUR WIFE NAG YOU DAY IN AND DAY OUT OVER LONG HOURS SPENT IN THE OFFICE? ARE YOU LONGING FOR A CAREER CHANGE, OR JUST IN DIRE NEED OF A NEW CHALLENGE THAT WILL MATCH YOUR OVER RESTED WITS? THEN SEEK NO FURTHER BECAUSE...UNCLE TAM WANTS YOU! DUE TO UNFORESEEN CIRCUMSTANCES, A PRINCESS – PROFILE PICTURED ON DAILY MILK CARTON’S AT ALL GOOD GROCERY STORES NEAR YOU – HAS MYSTERIOUSLY APPEARED? AND YES, THAT’S RIGHT; UNCLE TAM WANTS YOU TO FIND HER. SO WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, GET EXCITED ABOUT YOUR QUEST TODAY!

  LO–CALL: 555–UNCLE TAM WANTS YOU OR EMAIL: MANDATORY.SOM

  REWARD OFFERED UPON HER SAFE CAPTURE. TERMS AND CONDITIONS APPLY. ENLISTMENT IS MANDATORY. FAILURE TO DO SO IS DEEMED PUNISHABLE BY DEATH.”

  This was his Majesty’s advertisement posted in the recruitment section of Tomorrows World. He had to admit, it did have a certain wide appeal to it. However, his faithful butler – an orc dressed in the appropriate attire – wasn’t so sure?

  ‘Forgive me for asking, your Majesty,’ he said, ‘but how exactly does this plan of yours work?’

  ‘Ah, the question that has no doubt been weighing on everyone’s mind?’ replied King Evil with a cunning sense of delight, ‘It’s quite simply devilish. Possibly the most devilish plan ever devised, since God kicked Adam and Eve out of the Garden of Eden for fear of future child maintenance, saying; “Thou should fend for thou self...now shod off!”’

  ‘Very good, your Majesty.’

  ‘In order to fulfil my destiny and rule the Kingdom,’ he continued, ‘I must rid myself of this ghastly spell by returning to my true self; A curse given to me by the greatest problem ever known to man, since sliced bread became un–sliced... the ex–wife.’

  ‘Ah, the Dark Witch I surmise, your Majesty?’

  ‘Oh yes, she was dark alright, in more ways than one I can tell you,’ he replied, ‘and ever since I’ve been longing for a good old fashion kiss.’

  ‘A kiss, your Majesty?’

  ‘When it comes to fairytale spells, there’s only one thing that you can count on; particularly, when you happen to be a frog,’ he stated, ‘a kiss... a kiss from a princess.’

  ‘But you’re not exactly the kind of prince charming associated with such fairytales, are you, your Majesty,’ replied his faithful butler, ‘being evil and all?’

  ‘Ha, the goody prince charming trick... please,’ said King Evil with distaste, ‘why waste years waiting for the perfect prince, when after all; a kiss is but a kiss.’

  ‘How so, your Majesty?’

  ‘Remove prince charming from the picture and all one needs is a candlelit dinner, some romantic melody and the whisper of sweet nothings over a glass of vintage wine,’ suggested King Evil, ‘And should all else fail you in your time of need... the old trusted dagger wedged to her side should just about do the trick!’

  ‘Well put your Majesty, I would never have figured you as the romantic type,’ said his butler, ‘It seems that all you need now is a princess?’

  ‘Hence this morning’s advertisement,’ he boldly claimed, ‘word is spreading across the land about the mysterious return of a princess? And if I am to succeed in ruling this kingdom once and for all, she must be found and brought to me at once!’

  ‘But how do we find her, your Majesty,’ asked his butler, ‘it has been long since such true nobility has walk among us. Many rebels are sure to aid her, and should her true prince charming find her first, well?’

  ‘That is why I must assume his identity,’ replied King Evil, ‘thus insuring that the spoils of victor lie solely with me.’

  ‘Excellent, your Majesty,’ replied his butler with admiration for such a daring plan, ‘and the real prince charming, how should we insure that he does not get in the way, so to speak?’

  ‘As luck would have it, thanks to a few dim–witted trolls he is safely secured in my dungeon, never to see the light of day again,’ replied King Evil happily, ‘the rest as they say, is simply poetry in motion.’

  ‘Those trolls, eh... go figure,’ began his butler nervously, ‘about that, the thing is...’

  ‘You think the milk cartons are too much?’ interrupted his Majesty unmindfully, ‘Personally, I thought that the question mark was a nice touch?’

  ‘You could say it’s a questionable matter, yes...’

  ‘It’s the film crew, isn’t it,’ he asked, ‘a little bit too distracting?’

  Yes, in the shadows stood the technical skills of a small film crew. Strangely, they seemed more puzzled than his butler did?

  And... cue his Majesty!

  ‘One word and an abbreviation, “Reality TV!”’ said King Evil proudly, ‘I’m making a behind the scene, “Rise to World Domination Documentary”. The P.R department said it would be good for the morale of my soon to be – willing or not – loyal subjects.’ He eyed his webbed fingers comfortably, ‘a few good ratings and who knows, we might even go HD?’

  ‘Very impressive, your Majesty,’ replied his butler, ‘but about those trolls... there may be one slight inconvenience to your plan?’

  ‘Now what,’ he asked, ‘and before you answer, know that unless you’re looking for a beheaded–nation, this better be pretty damn good?’

  ‘Er, I have just received urgent news that maybe somewhat discomforting?’

  Ironically, at the time he had no idea that he would be referring to himself.

  ‘Somewhat discomforting you say?’ repeated his Majesty curiously.

  ‘If I may,’ began his faithful butler while unravelling a scroll before him, ‘Find Love on Wings; we are delighted to inform you of a recent match profile...’ He cleared his throat rather embarrassingly, ‘Sorry, your Majesty, wrong message?’ He tried again, ‘the trolls purchase; one human child – AKA the suspected Prince Charming – has escaped. Apparently, with the aid of a troublesome fairy – a one Cara of the Celtic Meadows I believe, your Majesty?’

  ‘What?!’ jolted his Majesty with surprise, ‘Why wasn’t I informed about this immediately?’

  ‘I was just waiting for the right opportunity, your Majesty. The guards have been searching the castle with complete unrest,’ explained his faithful butler, ‘But if it pleases his Majesty, I have taken the liberty of recruiting some particular professionals. The kind of professionals whom, shall we say, have acquired skills should they escaped the grounds.’

  ‘I want this matter cleared up at once; he cannot be allowed to roam free,’ commanded King Evil, ‘If he manages to find the princess before I, then all could be lost?!’

  ‘But of course, your Majesty,’ replied the butler swiftly, ‘and the fairy...?’

  ‘Yes, some melding fool trying to prove something to the world no doubt,’ surmised King Evil, ‘just who is she anyway?’

  ‘An actress... apparently?’

  ‘Is she on our payroll?’ he asked.

  ‘In a matter of speaking...’

  ‘What about a permit?’

  ‘I don’t believe so,’ confirmed his butler, ‘a mere prisoner held in the dungeon until we could figure out what to do with her credit limitations, your Majesty.’

  King Evil gave him an oddly gaze, ‘so what in fact you’re actually telling me is that, she too, has somehow escaped from my supposedly secure dungeon; right beneath the noises of my supposedly vigilant guards... without a permit?’

  The thought was embarrassing, a little too embarrassing.
>
  ‘In so many words...?’

  ‘Just typical – one extremely hot vindaloo, an embarrassing bathroom break with dodgy intermission music, and my whole world comes crashing down?’ moaned King Evil with displease, ‘Search the castle high and low and leave no stone unturned. Whoever she is; where ever they are; I want them found...I must have that kiss!’

  Many orcs rushed throughout the halls of Rock Fall Castle. Apparently a prisoner had escaped. But more importantly, their accomplice failed to produce the proper paperwork necessary for a practicing permit. This had left the dwarves in a peculiar position. They needed to find a rather swift route of escape, and it seemed that an old mineshaft held the answer?

  With options few, Zack and his new found companions slipped into a mine cart, hoping to stowaway unnoticed. Easily now it began to roll, its wheels squeaking as momentum slowly began to build. Behind, a supposedly vigilant group of orcs where blindly unaware of their daring escape... When suddenly the cart plunged into a vertical fall with many a squeamish cry drifting a far?!

  The orcs shook with surprise, vaulting into the nearest cart in hot pursuit.

  ‘Look alive people, we’ve got company!’ yelled Morku.

  ‘Perfect, that’s all we need right now,’ moaned Cara, noting the orc cart swiftly trailing behind, ‘I told you that we should have asked for directions. But no, a sister never gets some R. E. S. P. E. C. T around here.’

  ‘They’re gaining on us,’ said Zack, ‘we need to do something?’

  ‘There’s no need to be so pushy, kid,’ she replied, ‘I’m thinking, I’m thinking...?’

  ‘Suggestions anyone?’ asked Droc nervously.

  ‘Quick, find something that we could use to jam their wheels with...cause them to crash!’

  ‘Good thinking, Earru,’ he replied, ‘but what?’

  ‘You just let me worry about that,’ insisted Cara, urging Droc to keep his eyes on the track, ‘and use the brakes would you, we don’t want to derail ourselves with one of those tight turns!’

  She had a point; after all, what else were they for?

  And so Droc son of Oric did pull with all his might upon an old lever before him. The track line crossing and looping; the cart tipping to one side, desperately trying to balance as sparks flew with the grind of metal...Crack!

  Suddenly, the screeching of brakes came to an end?

  Droc gazed awkwardly at a length of stick in his hand. You couldn’t quite call it a brake lever anymore.

  ‘I’m afraid that the brakes are not an option,’ he confessed, ‘however, on the bright side we seem to have found something to jam their wheels with?’

  Well, at least it was a start.

  It was the usual check point control for patrol–orc Officers Thomson and Travis. Speed gun at the ready, they held up in the preferred parking bay of choice along route 66–6.

  All seem quiet...Zoom!

  The clock was off the scale? A 205 in a 30 zone was pushing it for this renegade track user. But all it would take was one flashing blue light and the swift disposal of coffee cups later...and the chase was on! These crooks were in for a big surprise if they thought that they were going to get away with it that easily. Not with the long arm of repression hot on their tail. Not when you cross the county–line of this town. Not as long as the local enforcers have anything to say about it.

  ‘Would you just throw it...we don’t have time for this!’ yelled Cara franticly.

  ‘Give me a break, would you?’ said Droc while fumbling about with the broken lever, trying now to aim it at the wheels of the trailing cart of orcs, ‘it’s a lot harder than it looks, okay!’

  ‘Now you listen here dwarf–man,’ she insisted, ‘something’s going over that edge... one way or the other, understand?’

  ‘Whatever you do just don’t drop it!’ yelled Samif son of Tams.

  ‘Of course I’m not going to...’

  The sound of metal made little attempt to hide its demise?

  Droc cleared his throat, remaining innocently cool. Nobody could prove a thing – ‘I don’t believe it?!’ – except her.

  ‘Just great,’ moaned Samif, taking it now upon himself to climb over the front of the cart in hope of slowing it down.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Zack.

  ‘Someone’s got to do something before it’s too late kid,’ he replied, taking hold of the headlight while pressing his foot firm against the brake pad, sighting a lever upon the line just ahead, ‘If we could manage to slow ourselves down, we just might be able to switch tracks; buy us some time?’

  Crack?!

  Having a danger sign stuck to his backside wasn’t quiet what he had in mind?

  But again he did press his foot down hard, a rain of spark lighting the shadows of the mine. And the lever came swift, Zack leaning out with want to snatch it firmly. This was it, their only hope. The orcs were gaining ground. The lever was soon at hand. On Samif’s mark Zack reach out as far as he could, the Magical Lock racing down the length of his arm to aid his effort.

  They missed... the line dropped vertically once more!

  ‘Get out the rope boys, we’ll have fresh meat yet!’ roared an orc, ‘Prepare to board, let them taste the cold edge of steel!’

  And so forth did they draw a length of thick rope, the crude form of hook upon its tip glinting eagerly in its wait. Through the air it did fall, passing over Zack and Droc son of Oric; skimming across Airtu son of Airmit before fumbling through the hands of Morku who tried in vain to catch it. And down it came, across the shoulders of Earru, landing loosely in–between the dangling legs of poor Samif son of Tams?

  No prompt expression was required... the sign said it all!

  Swiftly the line tightened, hooking firmly into place as Samif’s eyes crossed with discomfort – Was that a blue light flashing in the near distance? – However, there was little time for capture. Ahead the track line weaved into two, lapping one another like strands of rope and venturing deep into the darkness of a narrow tunnel. And upon its earth walls did wait many stone figures; Serpents coated of wed and dust with sights ever watchful to lowered jaws of darkened deceit. And many darts filled the air leaving only trails of dust to mark their flight, the carts unforgiving as they swirled helplessly about one another to the rushing flow of track.

  Samif needed to rethink his plan. Metaphorically speaking, it was riddled with holes!

  Emerging from the terror of darkness, to their side – upon another track line – the rage of a siren and flashing light gave cue to Officer Thomson and Travis...the county line enforcement!

  Promptly, they jump into the line of duty.

  ‘I hereby order those of you intent on exercising acts seen to be of a disorderly behaviour, to pull your vehicle over,’ said Officer Thomson, shinning his searchlight across the ever moving crime scene, ‘You boy, on the front with the sideburns...let me see that there permit for hood jumping, nice and slow like!’

  ‘I think we should pull over?!’ said Droc son of Oric unsurely, the cart now bumper–to–bumper with the trailing orcs; hands and feet forcing their way aboard.

  ‘Let’s take a crazy roller coaster ride to the extreme!’ cried Cara, before proceeding to beat a rather large and quite gruesome toe with a strip of splintered wood, ‘I mean, seriously... whose stupid idea was this?’

  ‘She seems to be taking it well,’ remarked Morku, held upside down by a large hand, Airtu son of Airmit trying to aid him from capture – ‘Would you get your butt out of my face!’ – Well to be honest, what else could he say?

  ‘The use of deadly force has been authorized...you will comply!’ continued Officer Thomson, drifting his searchlight back now toward his fellow comrades, adding, ‘Move along folks, there ain’t nothing to see here!’

  It was standard procedure.

  But on and on the carts would bashed back and forth, held to the mere will of the track line as it began now to rush passed a deathly river of magma far below.


  ‘What are you, some kind of hard to hear fool?’ yelled Officer Thomson once more, pointing to his squad siren wailing throughout the air, ‘This here stationary warning device tells you best to pull over!’ He turned sharply to his partner, ‘Why Travis I don’t think that they give a darn hoot what we say, boy?’

  ‘That’s it Serge, I’m calling it,’ he replied, ducking a lantern that came swift overhead, ‘it’s time we get us some fine reinforcements!’

  ‘Now you’re talking my kind of language, boy,’ agreed Officer Thomson, the track line seemingly drifting askew for a moment, ‘they ain’t never gonna know what hit them...’

  Thud!

  A siren drifted away to a sluggish ease? Apparently, judging from the remains, the county line had just run out.

  Leaving Officer Thomson and Travis to their untimely demise, the chase continued. But there was little room for comfort. Increasingly the mineshaft began to narrow more and more to the flow of many a lantern rushing overhead. Samif unhooked the claw of danger embedded sharply in his sign, flinging both aside as he tried to climb back on board. And the orcs did lose ground and ahead the break of daylight did form. Though ill was its lure for end of line was to be its true call of warn. And a great shadow did grow in the near distance, the crushing of rock falling forth from edge of roof before all to see.

  ‘Brace yourselves everyone,’ said Airtu, ‘things are about to get rocky!’

  Cara on the other hand simply screamed. She felt it more to the point.

  All eyes widened now, time favouring least of all those whom may need it most. And the line of end did near, a great fall of doom unwilling to ease upon the ever flow of rushing track, stubborn in its lay of course. And the edge of rock came sharp in form, scraping across the ends of cart with want to crush, though failing in its fastened grasp of rest.

  The orcs, however... weren’t so lucky!

  Beyond the crush of rock, Zack and his companions plunged ever downward along a vast mountain slope. And the slope did turn steep and cunning in its path. And a far they could see a sickened sea raging in its might, pounding upon scattered rock, awash in its off–white beneath that of a crumbling cliff face.

  There was nowhere else that they could go. There was no way of stopping. There was no other path nor choice... but that of the sea.

  Down they did plunge!