The Title of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 8)
Page 18
“Fear naughtte for me, Launcelot. Come to me, Mordred.”
“It” “Mordred” “Father”
“Yes, I am your Father, Mordred.”
“Mordred” “Kill” “Father”
“Fly away, my King! The monster acknowledges no strike!”
“Come to me, Mordred.”
“Kill” “Kill” “Kill”
“I’m sorry, son, this hurts me, more than it hurts you.”
~plunge!~
“Eee” “AYE” “rRoark!”
“No mortal blade may harm the Great Mordred!”
“Eee” “AYE” “rRoark!”
“No mortal blade will fell the ogre, baughtte ‘Excalibur’ is no mortal blade. Mine plunge of sword through the monster boy’s heart has dropped the foul fellow to his scaly knees. I shall now hasten him hither with this double handed royal farewell.”
~slice!~ plop. plop. plop.
“Hsssk! What hast thou done?! My Mordred!? My perfect plans are ruined!”
“Look, it’s Mistress Morgana, up on the battlements!”
“Oui, and Mademoiselle Stephanie is up there, too!”
“Eh hem, I sayeth, Mistress Morgaga, thy art invited to go soaketh thy head in the moat, m’lady. Forsooth, alloweth me to grant thee a boost off the ramparts.”
“E
e
e
e
k
!”
~splash!~
Chapter 23
Watery Departure
“Arthur, my King, Arthur, my husband, Arthur, my funny old bear, art thou sure this is the best course?”
“Ha! Of course I’m sure, my Queen Guenevere, I’m King! That’s one of the first things to learn of to be king, you know, to be sure of things!”
“Your Majesty. I am choked with the emotion, oui?”
“Yes, old chum, so too am I, my friend.”
“Oh, my King, I can’t bear to see you go!”
“Tut, tut, Ichabod, it is because of you, I have the strength to make this journey. I have learned much of late. I now realize how very deeply I care for the land and my subjects. Take lovely Stephanie and live happily throughout the rest of thy days, from here and ever after.”
~sniff~ “Yessir, your Highness, sir.” ~sniff~
“Launcelot, I know now that Guenevere’s love for you, supersedes my own. Guenevere’s love for you is the love of a man, and with me, it is for the love of England. Guenevere’s love for me is that of a love for her country because I am her country. The land and I are bound together. I must be here for Britain always. My journey carries me to Avalon, that I may be here to serve my country always.”
“Never have I witnessed such nobility and compassion! Arthur, you are both the greatest of men, and the greatest of Kings. I weep with joy to be thy friend.”
“Launcelot, take care of Guenevere. Protect her, love her, make her happy.”
“Oui, your Majesty!”
“Y’all are subjects to make a King proud.”
“Thank you, Sire!”
“God save Great Britain!”
“God save Great Britain!”
“I hear a soft music, Miss Stephanie. Gentle yet haunting refrains, as that of harps and/or angelic ladies choirs drift as mists over the waters surface.”
“Your Queen Guenevere, hears the music as well, Ichabod.”
“Oui, we all do.”
“I sayeth, our King doth do depart. On a small boat, accompanied by three Holy women in waiting, our sovereign King sails into the sacred mists of legend.”
“Oui, Stephanie. Arthur now draws his mighty sword. With love and tenderness, our Blessed King kisses the Sacred relic. Arthur grasps the blade, rears back and throws Excalibur high into the air, returning the immortal blade from whence it came, to await our country’s next need.”
“My Launcelot, a slim arm, clad in shimmering silver mail, gracefully rises from the water’s surface. T’is the Lady of the Lake and she reaches for Excalibur that she might keep the sacred blade safe, until Britain’s need should call on it again.”
“I sayeth, what a thrilling sight, seeing Excalibur fly through the morning air, the magic blade catching the morning sun in a promise of many bright tomorrows. End over end, the sword turns as the wheel of a cart. It achieves apogee and falls to the waiting hand from the water.”
“No, Mademoiselle, the Holy sword has paused in its fall! It hangs suspended, quivering with indecision. Now it shoots away to the shore.”
“Nyenh, henh, henh! The sword of power is mine at last!”
“Mr. Merlin, sir! Shame on you! That sword belongs to posterity, and that Magno-beam-O-rator you used to steal it belongs to me!”
“Sacre Bleu, you terrible fiend! I shall striketh thee down!”
“Nyenh, henh, henh! Oh no you won’t, shiny britches! I shall use this horrible invention of Icky-face to cast thee and thy Holier than thou armoured self far away!”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!............
“Shame on you, Mr. Merlin, sir! I’m gonna fix your little red wagon!”
“Bah, do naughtte soil my prestigious self with your common hands! Let go of my sword!”
“No, it ain’t yours! Give it back! It belongs to that there Lady in the Lake!”
“‘Of’ the Lake.”
“Yessir. Unh! Unh!”
“It is mine! Unh! Unh!”
“Augh!”
~splash!~
“Ichabod and Merlin hath fallen into the lake! They have sunk beneath the surface!”
“Blub, blub, blet blow blIchablubble!”
“Blub, blub, blow blay! Blou blet blow, Blerblin!”
“Blebber!”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
“blub.”
~splash!~
“Ickety-bod, wake up, son, Ah say, Ah say, wakes up right now, suh!”
“President Twain, t’is thee! Verily and forsooth, wherefore art I?”
“You are in big trouble if you don’t stop talking nonsense, Icky, Persephone is about to be ette!”
“Prithee, Persephone? Oh my Goodness, it doth be the Moss-cow Circus!”
“Of course, son, why do you think I just threw a bucket of clown water in your face, boy?
“Merry! It seemeth Knucklaus and Spaundexandra are in the process of being consumed by giant, striped cats!”
“Yea, boy, and Persephone is desperately trying to discourage this other over-grown feline that encroaches so menacingly. Reared up on its hind legs and standing at full height, that Siberian Tiger towers twelve feet tall over Persephone who bravely opens and closes her parasol at the monster with a threatening manner and fierce ‘shoo-shooing’ in a determined effort to drive the beast away.”
“It’s the same all over this huge arena! Wild animals are holding humans in mortal predicaments!”
“Eh hem, I say, are you well rested after your little nap, Mr Temperance? If so, I think we should like to enjoy a spot of assistance on your part, yes?”
“Little nap? But Miss Plumtartt, I’ve been gone for a long time!”
“Ickety, you just suffered a bump on the head
, son. You’ve only been unconscious for a few moments.”
“Verily, I have had many odd adventures, Sire! Oops, I mean, Mr. President.”
“Tell us of your dream later, boy.”
“T’was no dream, good sir, t’was real!”
“Roof!”
“Bolt! Oh Bolt, I hath missed thee, lo these many weeks, faithful boy! What tribulations doth vex our companions, so in mine absence?”
“Roof!”
“The circus animals are upset?”
“Roof!”
“They don’t like being held in captivity?”
“Roof!”
“They are seizing this opportunity to hold the Royal family hostage until these circus animals are freed and these noble creatures can live in the wild as nature intended?”
“Roof!”
“Thou wants me to communicate on behalf of the creatures?”
“Roof!”
“Thee would havest me to tell Knucklaus that as Tsar, he is not only leader of his people, but of the land and the animals, too?”
“Roof!”
“That his is a place of noble responsibility and he has an obligation to treat these creatures with dignity and compassion?”
“Roof!”
“And the same goes for President Clemens if he knows what is good for him?”
“Roof!”
“What did that dog just ‘roof’, Ickedy?”
“That wasn’t what Bolt was thinking, your Highness Mr. President Twain, sir, that was Bolt passing on the intentions of these fierce beasts.”
“Roof!”
“See?”
“Ah, let’s have all that again, Ickedy, the Tsar’s head was fully engulfed in this giant tiger’s drool dripping jaw and he could not hea-ah your demands.”
“You pass it on for me please, sir, I need to see Miss Plumtartt right away!”
“Are you well, Mr. Temperance?”
“Oh, Miss Stephanie, I’ve missed you!”
“Eh hem, is this some new moniker you have bequeathed me, Mr. Temperance?”
“Hunh? Oh, I’m sorry, Miss Plumtartt, I’ve been gone so long, I just got used to calling you Miss Stephanie.”
“I say, you have only been asleep a few moments, Mr. Temperance.”
“Oh, no Ma’am, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am! I have been away for over a thousand years! I met wonderful people and had outrageous adventures! I was with King Arthur! He made me a Knight of the Round Table!”
“Yes, of course he did, Mr. Temperance. I’m sure you had a very pleasant dream.”
“But it weren’t no dream Ma’am, it was real! Well, I think it was. It seemed so real! Gee, Now it is sort of slipping away from me. Maybe it was just a dream.”
“I say, yes, of course it was, my poor little Mr. Temperance. This imagined tale must have been instigated by that nasty bump to your skull. Oh Knucklaus, Mark, Spaundexandra, please listen, Mr. Temperance wishes to tell y’all of his dream.”
The End.
Afterword:
Thank you for sharing in our adventure!
Miss Plumtartt and I sincerely appreciate
your having read our story.
Cheers!
Your pals,
~Icky and Persephone.
Authors Note:
The solar eclipse referred to in this book is totally fabricated by both myself and Mr. Twain,
however,
the Christopher Columbus lunar eclipse story
is completely factual.
The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance
A Matter of Temperance
(Volume One of The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance)
A World of InTemperance
(Volume Two of The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance)
For the Love of Temperance
(Volume Three of The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance)
A Study in Temperance
(Volume Four of The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance)
In a Latitude of Temperance
(Volume Five of The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance)
The Measure of Temperance
(Volume Six of The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance)
The Seventh Voyage of Temperance
(Volume Seven of The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance)
available in print and for Amazon Kindle at Amazon.com and CreateSpace.com