How to Save a Kingdom

by Bill Allen

  “Yes, well, we made amazing time. It’s as if luck were on our side.”

  Greg frowned. “Where is Lucky?”

  “He and the little Greatheart boy are around someplace,” said Ryder. “I’m afraid I’ve paid them little heed. I’ve had more pressing matters on my mind, as you can well imagine. Marvin Greatheart is being held captive, and I dare say I can’t figure out how to help him. I sent in some of my scouts to look for a weakness, but, well . . . nothing. Last I looked, there was a ring of trolls around Marvin a hundred deep. Now maybe we could charge in there and reach him by force, but not without suffering tremendous losses. Even if we had the entire kingdom army to back us up, we could never drive out that many of the beasts.”

  “Maybe Nathan can help,” said Greg.

  “Yes, of course,” Ryder sighed. “I’m getting too weary to think. I forgot about your magic.”

  Greg didn’t think Gnash and Gnaw were close to hearing distance, but the pair strode purposefully forward now.

  “The magician must not use his powers,” Gnash said, his tone little more than a growl.

  “Shh,” Ryder insisted, snapping his head toward the trail to the north. Unseen birds chirped ahead, the only sound to break the still air. Ryder turned back to the others, apparently satisfied they had not been discovered, but jumped when he saw the source of the voice he’d just heard. After a brief moment to gather his wits, he spoke. “Something wrong with your powers, Nathan?”

  The magician sighed. “It’s a long story. Let’s just say it would be good if we could come up with another way.”

  “Forget about your dragonslayer,” Gnaw said, his voice taking on a tone that was hard to disobey. “We need to find this Widget person.”

  “Are you talking about Corporal Widget?” Ryder asked.

  Gnaw’s eyes brightened. “Yes. We must speak with him right away.”

  “What’s this about?” insisted Ryder.

  “It’s okay,” Nathan reassured him. “We have reason to believe the corporal may know something about the spirelings’ missing amulet.”

  “Really?” said Ryder. “Well, if so, he never mentioned it to me. Anyway, I’m afraid you can’t talk to him now.”

  “We can and we will,” growled Gnash. He raised his axe to illustrate his point, prompting Ryder to take a quick step backward.

  “Relax, Gnash,” said Nathan. He reached out a cautious hand to guide the weapon back to the spireling’s side. “Widget isn’t going anywhere. Could you just give us a minute?”

  The spireling stared at Nathan as if deciding what size pieces to chop him into.

  “Look, we haven’t eaten all day,” Nathan told him. “Why don’t you and Gnaw take this opportunity to grab a quick bite? We’ll talk to Corporal Widget in just a second, okay?”

  Gnash reluctantly agreed, to which Greg released a pent-up breath.

  “How did you end up traveling with those two?” Ryder asked Nathan after Gnash and Gnaw wandered off.

  “I’ll tell you all about it when we have more time,” Nathan said. “For now we need to cooperate with them. They’re not going to rest until they’ve spoken with Corporal Widget.”

  “That is unfortunate,” whispered Ryder.

  Realizing there was more to follow, Nathan quickly waved his hands through the air. An effervescent trail sparkled for several seconds and faded away to nothing. In the background, Greg heard Gnash gasp and throw his hands over his ears. Gnaw did the same. The two spirelings were still shaking their heads when Greg looked away.

  “You were saying?” Nathan asked Ryder.

  Greg leaned in close, until he was tilted so far, Ryder actually reached a hand out to catch him should he topple and fall.

  “I’m afraid your friends are going to be disappointed,” said Ryder. “Corporal Widget is not here. He transferred to General Talbout’s troops when we rested at Pendegrass Castle a few weeks ago.”

  “General Talbout’s troops,” said Greg. “But they’re—”

  “On the opposite side of the kingdom. Yes.”

  Rescue

  Greg glanced back at the two spirelings. Gnash was busy digging deep inside one ear with a four-inch-long claw. Gnaw winced and shook his head from time to time but mostly ignored the sound Nathan placed inside his head, apparently more interested for the moment in the turkey leg a soldier had handed him. At least, Greg wanted to believe it was a turkey leg, even if he’d never heard of a turkey growing to half that size. In any case, it was clear the two spirelings weren’t eavesdropping.

  “I thought you weren’t supposed to use your magic,” Greg said.

  “I’m not,” said Nathan, “but this is clearly a case where what the spirelings don’t know won’t hurt them. If it were up to them, we’d waste no time trying to rescue Marvin, and though I don’t know a lot about events to come, I believe the dragonslayer may yet have a part to play in all of this. Gnash and Gnaw may be too shortsighted to realize it, but it is in their best interest that I do what I must to see the Mighty Greatheart safe. I need to make intelligent decisions for them, whether they involve magic or not.”

  “In other words, you don’t care about their orders,” Greg said.

  “Not their orders. Queen Gnarla’s. Now, I think it’s time we go back to obeying the spirelings. We need to choose our battles, remember?”

  “You know, it’s weird,” Greg said. “We have that same expression on Earth.”

  Nathan smiled. “I’ve noticed many similarities between our two worlds. If I had to guess, I’d say some of those who fought here during the Dragon Wars returned to the homes of their comrades in battle. Well, we’ll have plenty of time to discuss the matter further once Greatheart is safely back in our midst. For now let’s not mention anything to the spirelings about Corporal Widget’s absence, okay?”

  The others agreed. Nathan waved his hands again, winked, and raised his voice. “Widget, you say? Maybe we’d better take a closer look. Ryder, let’s see if we can find a weakness in their defenses.”

  Gnash threw down his turkey leg, and he and Gnaw rushed forward. “We heard you say something about Widget. We will come with you.”

  “I won’t be using my magic,” Nathan assured them.

  “Good. We will come anyway.”

  “Suit yourself,” said Nathan. He offered Greg a stern look. “You kids stay here. We’ll be gone only a minute.”

  Ryder signaled for two of his men to escort him and Nathan closer to the troll camp, and the spirelings followed the four of them up the trail to the north, where they soon disappeared around the bend.

  Brandon eyed the meat Gnash had tossed on the ground and nearly picked it up before Rake beat him to it. As much as Greg would have liked to stop and grab a bite himself, he and Priscilla searched out Lucky and Melvin to see if they had any ideas how to rescue Marvin. But after scouring the entire area, they could find no sign of either boy. No one could remember seeing the pair for an hour or more.

  “What should we do?” Priscilla asked.

  “I guess we better tell someone,” said Greg. He looked to the north, trying his best to ignore the lingering troll stench that hung cloyingly in the air, and then started up the trail, Priscilla at his heels.

  “What are you kids doing here?” Ryder hissed when Greg and the princess strode into view. “Get down. Someone will see you.”

  Only then did Greg notice the soldiers and Nathan crouched in the bushes to the side of the trail. He and Priscilla scurried closer.

  Nathan started ranting something about staying safe and doing as you’re told, but Greg wasn’t listening. He stretched up on tiptoes and strained to glimpse the clearing where the trolls were camped. As short as he was, he couldn’t have hoped to see a thing without jumping at least three feet in the air, but then he got a fine view once he realized
the tree stump he’d been leaning against was actually Gnash.

  Nathan clamped a hand over Greg’s mouth. “I asked you two to stay put. What do you have to say for yourselves?”

  “Mm mmph.”

  Nathan released his grip, and Greg told him what he and Priscilla had found, or in this case, not found.

  “This is exactly what I need,” whispered Ryder. “It’s bad enough I’ve got one man to rescue. Let’s just hope we don’t have three.”

  He instructed one of his soldiers to search the camp for any sign of the two boys. The man jogged off down the trail to the south and returned a few minutes later. Even though Greg knew what the verdict would be, he still felt his spirits drop when the soldier announced the two boys were no longer in camp.

  “Told you so,” said Priscilla.

  Ryder groaned. “I knew I shouldn’t have let those two out of my sight. That little Greatheart boy is no less bold than his brother. And Lucky Day . . . well, I don’t need to tell you about him. He’s got himself so convinced he’s beyond harm, I wouldn’t be surprised if he strolled right up to the trolls and asked them when they planned to turn the dragonslayer free.”

  Greg was about to defend Lucky, but no, Ryder was probably right. He watched the creases in Ryder’s forehead deepen as the general contemplated his next move. Greg couldn’t come up with anything either. As it turned out, he didn’t need to. A sudden movement on the open trail ahead caught his eye. He nearly screamed when he spotted Lucky and Melvin strolling nonchalantly back toward camp.

  Ryder spotted them too. “Lucky, little Greatheart, where have you been?” His voice, while little more than a whisper, somehow managed to scold as effectively as a shout. The two boys nearly bolted away, but then they must have recognized Ryder, and stepped into the brush with the others.

  “We’ve been spying on the trolls,” Melvin informed them in a tone Greg thought sounded a lot more casual than the situation deserved. He spotted Greg and frowned. “Oh, you’re back. About time.”

  “Hi, Greg. Priscilla,” said Lucky. “Where have you been?”

  “Long story.”

  “Boys,” Ryder urged.

  “We think we figured out what all these trolls are doing here,” Lucky told him. “They’re planning to attack the king’s army.”

  “They know we’re here?” Ryder asked, peering with concern through the trees.

  “No, not this army,” explained Lucky. “They’re going to march on Pendegrass Castle. They think that’s where we’re going to battle the spirelings.”

  Gnash turned to face them. “So you do plan to fight us.”

  “There is a prophecy to that effect, yes,” said Nathan, “but we do not know yet if it is true.”

  “Prophecies are always true,” Gnaw said. “I must say I am disappointed. After your help dispatching that wyvern earlier, I had begun to count you a friend.”

  “I can assure you I have no interest in standing against you or your kind,” said Nathan. “Perhaps the prophecy is a trick of some sort brewed up by Witch Hazel to set us against each other. It sounds like the sort of treachery she might use.”

  “We have heard of this Witch Hazel,” Gnash told him, “and she is as you have described. But still, we do not believe a prophecy could be wrong. If it has been foretold that we will fight, well . . .” He rolled his axe over in his hands, his razor-sharp claws accidentally gouging the wood of the handle. “I am going to deeply regret having to take your heads.”

  “Imagine how we feel,” Greg told him.

  “Why would the trolls want to get involved in our battle?” Priscilla asked. “It sounds like the last place I’d want to be.”

  “They must intend to hit us after we fight,” said Greg, “when both sides are weakened.”

  “Why would the spireling army be weakened after a fight with humans?” Gnash asked matter-of-factly, to which Greg felt his stomach roll.

  “Yes, well, with the kind of numbers we’ve seen here today, they’ll be able to finish off whoever is left,” said Ryder. “And with both armies gone, they’ll have no trouble taking over the kingdom.”

  “Oh dear,” said Priscilla. “What are we going to do?”

  “Yeah,” said Melvin, turning an accusing glare Greg’s way. “What are we going to do?”

  Greg scowled back, but he was too anxious to put much effort into it.

  “We’ll worry about that pass when we march through it,” said Ryder. “Right now we’ve got a rescue to pull off.”

  “Did your eavesdropping at least teach you guys anything that may help?” Greg asked Lucky and Melvin.

  The two exchanged glances and both shook their heads. Greg struggled to come up with an idea of his own. How could they possibly get to the dragonslayer past hundreds of trolls without alerting the entire camp? Then it came to him. “Rake!” He loosened the neck of his cloak until he felt something stir beneath the cloth and a furry head popped into view. Rake’s whiskers shook as he sniffed the cold winter air.

  “Shadowcat,” Gnaw screamed.

  Gnash jumped a full six feet off the ground and carved his axe through the air on all sides before touching down again. “Where?”

  Ryder nearly clamped a hand over the spireling’s mouth, but wisely clamped it over Greg’s instead. He signaled for one of his men to check if the trolls had heard. The man stood on tiptoes to peer through the branches. Finally he returned to a crouch and shook his head. Only then did Ryder loosen his grip.

  “Keep your voice down,” he instructed. “What’s the meaning of this outburst?”

  “I just remembered,” said Greg. “The shadowcats can put people to sleep.”

  “Trolls aren’t people,” Ryder reminded him.

  “Well, neither are spirelings, but the shadowcats did it to them, remember? Outside the Infinite Spire when I was here before.”

  Gnash looked uncomfortable listening to any discussion involving shadowcats. “Spirelings do not sleep,” he insisted.

  “They did that day,” Greg assured him.

  “Greg’s right,” said Lucky. “I saw it too.”

  “Me too,” said both Melvin and Priscilla.

  Gnaw scowled at the four of them, and while a scowl is never a pleasant thing, one formed out of a mouth full of jagged teeth can leave an image that sticks with a person a long time. The group dropped into silence.

  “We spirelings did not sleep that day,” Gnaw said. “We were possessed. Those dreadful shadowcats used some sort of evil magic on us.”

  “Looked like you were sleeping to me,” said Melvin, who was young and still unclear about when he should and shouldn’t argue with a monster.

  “Maybe the shadowcats could help us under different circumstances,” said Nathan, “but we don’t have an army of them like before. We have only one. Unless you know how to go about summoning the others . . .”

  “I don’t,” said Greg, “but I’ll bet Rake does. I wonder if he’d do it if I asked him?”

  If Greg could correctly interpret a spireling’s expression, Gnaw looked even less pleased than before. “You’re talking about bringing more of those foul beasts here? Absolutely not.”

  “I think we have to. Unless you know another way of getting in and out of there without being noticed.”

  Gnash and Gnaw began a fervent exchange without saying a word. Suddenly the two of them appeared to arrive at a decision. They jumped up and raced ahead through the trees so quickly, the others witnessed little more than a blur.

  Greg jumped as high as he could to see above the brush, and for an instant spotted the blurred forms of the spirelings nearing the rim of the resting trolls. His mind continued to process the image as his head dropped below the leaves again. It was only then he realized he’d seen Marvin Greatheart still strapped to a pike in the background
.

  “What’s happening?” Priscilla wanted to know. No matter how high she jumped, she was too short to see.

  Greg didn’t answer. He jumped again, this time knowing exactly where to look. In one brief instant he was able to lock in a clear image of the two spirelings lunging toward the pike, axes leading the way. Miraculously Gnash and Gnaw had already managed to thread their way through the trolls with no alarm sounded.

  Greg’s feet barely touched down before the blow of an axe rang out, accompanied by the loud crack of very solid wood. A booming troll voice screamed out, and suddenly the whole camp burst to life.

  “Retreat!” Ryder called.

  Greg must have been slow in reacting, because Nathan gripped him roughly by his cloak and hurled him out onto the trail. The magician then did the same with Priscilla, and suddenly they were all sprinting back toward camp, the thunderous roar of thousands of heavy footsteps at their backs. Greg could barely run, his muscles were so sore, but he didn’t dare slow down.

  “Behind us,” Ryder shouted when the camp came into view.

  The closest soldiers jumped to their feet, their eyes grew wide and they jumped out of the way. Behind, the noise soared nearer, until Greg feared he was about to be run down.

  Only it wasn’t trolls closing in, but the two spirelings. Gnash zoomed by first, carrying one end of a very large log. Gnaw rushed past an instant later, carrying the other. Between, still sandwiched between two bedrolls, Marvin Greatheart had no choice but to fly by with them, as he was still strapped to the timber the two spirelings carried.

  What little of Marvin’s skin Greg could see looked frighteningly gray. Greg guessed he must be unconscious. Otherwise he’d surely be putting up more of a struggle. The sight lasted only an instant. The spirelings passed in and out of the campsite and had completely disappeared by the time Greg caught his first breath.

  “Trolls!” one of the soldiers finally shouted, and throughout the camp men jumped to life.

  Behind, Nathan carried a cursing Priscilla under one arm. He dropped her and spun, raising his staff as a half dozen of the beasts burst from the woods. The magician anticipated their progress and swept the first off the path with a single swipe. From nowhere Gnash and Gnaw bounded into the fight. With lightning-quick reflexes, each dispensed with two of the trolls that followed.