The Warble

by Victoria Simcox

  Ugan chuckled nervously. “Good try, but there’s no way she could survive in that rough water.”

  “Oh, but how you misjudge her, and I would have thought that out of anyone, you would know her the best.”

  Suddenly an image came into Ugan’s mind. It was of Queen Sentiz frolicking in her swimming pool back at the palace. “I guess she is a pretty good swimmer.” Ugan let the stone fall out of the slingshot. Then he fell to his knees and began to weep. “My life is ruined!” he cried.

  “What do you mean? You never had a life to begin with.”

  “Why don’t you just get out of here and let me await my horrible fate on my own.”

  “I have seen how you are treated by the queen, so I have decided to help you.”

  Ugan looked at the raven with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You have?” he said. But then his look turned suspicious. “Why should I believe you, when you practically tried to kill me?”

  “At this point, I don’t see that you have any other choice.”

  Ugan’s look of suspicion faded away. “You’re right. You may be my only hope.”

  “Then we’d better get moving.”

  “Oh, it’s no use. As soon as the queen knows I’m gone, she’ll summon her army of zelbocks to hunt me down. We don’t stand a chance.”

  “Well, then, that’s the risk that you’ll have to take. Now follow me, for I wouldn’t doubt that the queen is on dry land as we speak.”

  Roage’s hunch was right, because as they headed for the forest, the soaking-wet queen had been listening from behind a nearby tree and had heard all of their conversation.

  25

  A zelbock was driving a horse-drawn cart—Werrien was in a crate, on the back of it. The zelbock snapped its whip to set the horses into motion.

  “Look,” Kristina said, pointing to a figure coming into view.

  “It’s Retzel!” Taysha said.

  A zelbock handed Retzel a small sack and then patted him on his back.

  “Why that dirty liar, and to think I fell for his kind words,” Raymond said.

  Retzel ran toward the fence and when he reached it, he crawled through a hole in the bottom of it.

  “Where do you think he’s going?” Kristina asked Taysha.

  “I don’t know, but we’d better catch up with him and find out.”

  As they headed to where Retzel crawled through the hole in the fence, they could see more zelbocks coming out of the prison. It was daylight, and they had to take extra precautions so as not to be seen. They walked through the thickest parts of the forest, keeping the fence always in view, and even though they tried their best to avoid possible hidden traps, Taysha almost stepped in one. They suddenly heard a loud snap, and a leg-hold trap, big enough to sever an elephant’s foot, slammed shut. Its large, sharp, spike-like teeth skimmed the back of Taysha’s hoof and ripped off some of the hairs from the back of it. She reared up, and Kristina had to hold on tight with her legs. She managed to stay on just fine, but Raymond, who had crawled out of her vest, went flying through the air. He turned circles with his eyes squeezed tightly shut. “Oh, please, don’t let this be the place that I breathe my last breath, dear God! But if it is, please don’t let me splatter,” he prayed. Then, scrunching up his little nose, he prepared to hit the cold, hard ground. But to his surprise, where he landed was not cold or hard at all; it was rather warm and soft. He opened his eyes and stared right into Retzel’s large eyes. Raymond let out a frightful squeal.

  Kristina quickly dismounted Taysha, and then both she and Taysha pressed Retzel against the tree where he had been sitting, waiting for them to pass by. Without hesitation, Kristina went down on one knee and drew out the knife that Werrien had given her. Surprising even herself by what she was about to do, she pushed Raymond out of the way and held the knife very close to Retzel’s throat. “Why did you betray Werrien and lie to us?” she said through clenched teeth.

  Retzel’s eyes grew so large that they looked like they might pop out of his head. “I…I had no…no choice,” he stammered.

  “Yeah right! You’re a liar!” Kristina took hold of Retzel’s shirt and twisted in her hand.

  “Please, you must believe me! I have a sick child who is in desperate need of fairy blossom and must have a large amount every day, just to stay alive. I could never find enough myself, so I must work for Queen Sentiz as her spy in order for her to supply me with enough.”

  “Why should I believe you, when you lied so well the first time we met?”

  Before Retzel could answer, Kristina felt a little tug on her pant leg. She looked down to see that it was Raymond. “Not now, Raymond! Can’t you see that I’m busy?” Raymond tugged again on her. “Raymond, if you don’t—” It was then she saw that her rat was pointing to something between the trees. With the knife still close to Retzel’s throat, Kristina looked up to see a young gnome woman, holding a bundled-up blanket close to her bosom. A faint cry came from the bundle, followed by a gurgling cough. Kristina looked at the gnome woman’s sad face. Then she looked up at Taysha.

  “You’d best put the knife down,” Taysha said quietly.

  Kristina faced Retzel again. “First, I must know if the Warble is safe.”

  “I had to tell them that Prince Werrien had it,” Retzel confessed. “That was part the information I was sent to get when I met you outside the city.”

  Kristina pushed the cold knife against his throat. “So now they have the Warble as well? You’ve ruined any chance for Bernovem to become free of Queen Sentiz, and you’ve made it so that I will never be able to go home to my family!”

  “Please, have mercy on me! Queen Sentiz has said that she would have my family tortured and killed, and then banish me to Treachery Island for the rest of my life, if I didn’t follow her orders. I am willing to give up my life, but I can’t bear to have my wife and child tortured and killed.” Tears welled like puddles in Retzel’s tired eyes.

  Even though Retzel had caused so much trouble, Kristina couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. She put the knife away and stood up. “Okay, I will spare your life, but only if you take me to Werrien.”

  “I will do anything you want, but please promise me that my family will be safe.”

  Kristina looked at Retzel’s wife and helpless child. Unfortunately, she knew that this was something she couldn’t promise. Before she could answer Retzel, Roage flew up to them and landed on the ground. He tilted his head from side to side as he studied each one of them. When he looked at Kristina, he said, “Greetings, chosen one. It is an honor to finally meet you.”

  “Who are you, and what do you want?” Kristina retorted. She learned to be leery of trusting anyone new.

  “My name is Roage, and I have important information regarding Prince Werrien.”

  “I see, and I suppose you would like to give me directions to where I may find him.” She assumed she was being tricked again.

  “Yes, that is exactly right.”

  “And then I suppose when I arrive at this destination, there will be zelbocks in hiding, ready to jump out and warmly greet me,” she scoffed.

  “This is partially true.”

  “The part that I must have gotten wrong—would that happen to be the greeting from the zelbocks? Maybe it won’t be so warm after all.”

  “The reason I have come, is to tell you that Werrien and the Warble are presently on their way to the top of Mount Bernovem. When they reach the top, Queen Sentiz will have her son, Ramon, destroy the Warble and then kill Werrien.”

  “Is this true?” Kristina asked Retzel.

  Retzel lowered his head in shame. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

  “Then, we must leave at once to rescue Werrien.” Kristina looked at Roage. “Tell us the quickest way to him.”

  Once again Roage tilted his head from side to side as he looked at everyone. “I’m sad to say that you don’t stand a chance against the zelbocks. The queen has called up most of her army to follow the party that is taking Werrien
and the Warble to the top of the rugged mountain.”

  “We have to rescue Werrien and the Warble,” Kristina cried out in distress. She began to walk away, expecting that at least Taysha and Raymond would follow her, but when she turned around, she saw that everyone was standing still and staring at her. “Well? Are you coming?”

  “You might as well ask us to commit suicide right now,” Raymond said softly. “At least then we would avoid such a horrid death as being captured and tortured by the zelbocks.”

  Kristina felt her stomach turn as fear tried to overcome her as well. Look at you! the spirit of fear seemed to tell her. Do you think that you—a little girl, a horse, and rat—can defeat an army of zelbocks? You might as well hand yourselves over and save everyone the humiliation.

  “I will not give up and let Werrien die!” Kristina shouted toward the sky. Then she looked at the others. “If you won’t come with me, then I’ll go alone.” She turned and began to walk away, but before she got very far, Roage flew over her head and landed on the ground in front of her. “Don’t try and stop me! I won’t change my mind,” she said to him.

  “Because you have shown such great courage, I have decided to help you. I will notify all the believing gnomes and dwarfs in our land, and we will rise up our own army. We will fight against Queen Sentiz and her zelbocks,” Roage said.

  “And you can count on us to be the first to enlist,” Retzel said. Taysha and Raymond nodded their heads.

  26

  It was raining heavily at the base of the mountain, so Prince Ramon ordered the zelbocks escorting Werrien to stop for the evening. The harsh weather conditions would make it too treacherous to carry on in the dark, and so the plan was to continue on at first light.

  Werrien was imprisoned in a barred crate and had no shelter from the cold rain. From where he sat, drenched and shivering, he could see the zelbocks gathered around a roaring fire, drinking wine in celebration of their so-called victory of finding the Warble. Their insane laughter echoed through the forest as they crashed their large wooden mugs together in victory toasts.

  Not far from the fire, set up snug and cozy for the night in his luxurious tent, was Ramon, and in his possession was the Warble. He lay sprawled out on his bed, drunk from the wine. He tossed the Warble into air and then caught it, over and over, as if it were nothing more than a toy ball. Its swirling colors were changing again, from all the shades of green to a vibrant yellow. “It is a pity that you’ve waited so long and traveled so far, only to have your beautiful colors smashed to itsy-bitsy pieces. There were times when I was a child that I secretly wished that I’d be the one to place you in your resting place. Oh, what glory and honor I thought I would receive. But I was just a foolish lad, not realizing that being the destroyer of the Warble was my true destiny—and a far greater honor!”

  Beside his bed was a birdcage on a table. Inside the cage was a tiny prisoner: Clover. Ramon placed the Warble on the bed beside him and then turned on his side to face her. “If only you were my size, I would make you my bride,” he said, slurring his words.

  “Lucky for me then that I’m not your size, though if I were, you wouldn’t have been able to capture me,” Clover said angrily.

  “Oh, is that so? You think you’re so tough, do you?” Ramon picked up his horsewhip that lay beside the birdcage. He stuck it through the cage wires and began haphazardly poking it at Clover. “Is it true that if I touch your wings you won’t be able to fly again?” he asked between hiccups.

  Clover didn’t answer; she was far too busy dodging his forceful pokes. Finally, Ramon stopped poking her to guzzle more of his wine, spilling it down the sides of his cheeks. Then he lay back on his bed and began to laugh insanely. A few seconds later, he stopped and passed out, leaving the whip stuck in the cage. His goblet of wine fell out of his hand and spilled onto the bed, and in a drunken stupor, he began snoring loudly.

  Clover stood at the back of the cage with her tiny hands clenched tightly around the wires. Her heart was pattering as fast as a drum-roll. She glanced up to where the whip was stuck through the cage wires. The poking Ramon had been doing had caused the wires to bend outward, making a slightly bigger space between them. Clover looked up at the gap, and at that instant, she felt hope flood over her. Could it be big enough for me to escape? She jumped on top of the whip, and like a gymnast on a balance beam, she carefully walked up to the hole. It was big enough for her to get through, but the problem was her wings. They were too large to fit through without getting damaged. She grabbed hold of the bars, and with all her strength, she tried to pry them apart a little more. They wouldn’t budge. She rested a moment and then tried once more, but this time when she let go, she lost her balance. She fell from the whip and landed with a thump on the bottom of the cage. She stood up again and grabbed hold of the whip, but as she did so, Ramon sleepily reached up and grabbed the end of it. He pulled it out of the cage with Clover hanging onto it. She closed her eyes and folded her wings back in the best way that she could. To her surprise, she slipped right through the hole.

  Ramon rolled over with his whip in hand and flung her into the air. She opened her eyes to find her wings in perfect condition. She looked down at Ramon, who was lying on his stomach on top of the Warble. He burped loudly and dropped the whip to the floor.

  “Disgusting creature!” Clover said, and then flew out of the tent. Once she was outside, she took a deep breath of the cold, fresh air. Just ahead of her was the roaring fire and the drunken zelbocks, still celebrating around it. The fire gave off enough light for her to see the crate that held Werrien. She flew as fast as she could toward it, hoping not to be noticed by the zelbocks. They were so drunk that they wouldn’t have noticed her anyway, or for that matter, even cared if they did.

  When Clover arrived at the cage, she found Werrien, soaking wet, sitting with his head down between his knees. She flew quietly through the bars and landed on his shoulder. Thinking it was a zelbock reaching out for him; Werrien flinched and pulled away from her. “Werrien, it’s me, Clover.”

  Disoriented from lack of food and sleep, Werrien lifted his head slowly. “Clover! How did you escape?”

  “Ramon got obnoxiously drunk and then passed out. If you ask me, the guy’s more than a few bricks short of a load. Anyhow, we must act quickly to get you out of here while the zelbocks are still drunk, because once they sober up, we don’t stand a chance.”

  “It’s no use. I’ve been trying all night to figure a way out of here. What I need is a saw to cut through these bars.”

  Clover flew over to the heavy lock that hung from a chain, securing the door to the crate. She reached inside the lock’s keyhole.

  Werrien could hear it clanking as she fiddled with it. He had tried for hours to open it and thought she’d do no better. “Clover, I really appreciate your effort, but you’d be better off to find someone and ask them to come to me with a saw. At least then—” But before he could finish his thought, the lock suddenly fell off and landed with a thud on the soft ground. “Clover, where did you learn to pick locks?”

  “Werrien, don’t you know my purpose as a fairy?” Clover said, proudly.

  “To help those in need is the fairy’s creed,” they said in unison.

  As she spoke the creed, Clover’s conscience reminded her of how nasty she had been to Kristina; nevertheless she quickly disregarded it, for it was not the place or time to be thinking of her. She had to get Werrien away from the zelbocks—and the sooner the better.

  Werrien reached his hand through the bars and removed the lock from the latch. Then he pushed the door open and jumped out. The wet ground under his feet had never felt so good. “Okay, let’s go get the Warble.” He rubbed his ice cold hands together.

  Clover looked worried. “That’s not going to be possible.”

  “What do you mean, not possible? I know Ramon has it, and I know he’s in his tent, so let’s go get it.” Werrien started walking towards Ramon’s tent.

  “But Wer
rien, Ramon is much older, bigger, and stronger than you.” Clover felt embarrassed for pointing out the fact.

  “I’m not scared of Ramon. Besides, you said he was passed-out drunk. If I don’t take this opportunity now, I might as well get back in that crate and await my death. It will be better than spending the rest of my life in hiding, knowing I was the one who had the Warble and then had it taken away by the zelbocks, who in turn handed it over to that fool of a deceitful prince.” Werrien began walking even faster toward the tent, so Clover flew ahead of him. She stopped in midair, in front of his face.

  “There’s another thing,” Clover said. “Ramon is lying on top of the Warble. You’d have to wake him to get it out from under him.”

  “I guess I’ll just have to take that chance.” Werrien brushed her out of his way with the back of his hand. He passed by the fire pit, which had died down to a small pile of glowing coals. The zelbocks, who had drunk their fill of wine, sat slumped over around it, snoring loudly, like a chorus of fog horns.

  As Werrien approached Ramon’s tent, he could see the flickering light of a candle. He peeked between the ties that fastened the door flaps together. Ramon was lying with his back toward the opening, snoring so loudly that the tent walls were vibrating.

  “Werrien, do you really think you should go in there? We could escape so easily right now and be home in no time,” Clover said.

  Werrien gave no reply. Instead, he untied the door flaps of the tent and stepped inside.

  27

  While staring out her carriage window, an ever so slight smile came across Queen Sentiz’s blood-red lips. She would soon be arriving at Ramon’s base camp, along with her entourage of servant dwarfs, gnomes, and zelbocks. The plan was to set up camp for the night and then leave at the crack of dawn to head up Mount Bernovem. Once at the top of the mountain, the ceremony would begin.