The Prince and the Evil Queen were surely only days from meeting each other in the battlefield. The latter had encountered some dissention in the ranks so that the newly recruited Griffin and the Tin Soldier Man had gone away for a few days on what can only be described as a jolly boys outing. Or maybe a perverts outing might be more accurate.
The Evil Queen had subsequently realized that, with the two of them away and the Warlock being erratic in summoning up more creatures to join her army, she might have to come up with a new plan to defeat the Prince. She demanded a talk in private with Death.
“Now my scythe holding friend,” she began. “As you know, the Warlock hasn’t exactly swelled the ranks of my army.”
“No, I have noticed,” nodded Death. “He’s a bit of a liability that guy. He should be retired as he is clearly past it!”
“I don’t think his advancing years are the explanation,” remarked the Evil Queen. “Nonetheless, I have come up with a scheme to severely weaken my enemies. Some others might oppose me but it is the Prince who is the real thorn in my side!”
“This Prince I keep hearing about, I think I have his details on file,” nodded Death.
“You do?” the Evil Queen said excitedly. “When is his expiry date?”
“I really don’t remember,” he stroked his chin. “In fact, I am not even sure he has one.”
“Typical!” the Evil Queen snorted. “Well anyway, time for that to change. You see Death, if you can travel in secret to his camp and wield the old scythe, you would tip the scales of victory in our favour!”
“You want me to take him?”
“Yes! Kill him!”
“I am not sure about that,” he grimaced. “It isn’t the procedure seeing as I don’t have an expiry date for him. Just going in and taking him out would be highly irregular.”
“You might have to do it on the field of battle,” argued the Evil Queen. “How is this any different?”
“I suppose,” sighed Death reluctantly.
“And there’s his horse too. The one that speaks. Get him as well.”
“A horse?” Death was appalled.
“Yes!”
“Oh no! I have to draw the line there!” Death shook his head. “I am not offing a horse!”
“What? Why are you so precious about a bloody horse?”
“I like horses,” said Death. “I used to have one myself you know. Toby was his name. A beautiful palfrey he was! I used to ride him around the Realm while on duty. It was a bit of an inconvenience sneaking up on people with the sound of his hooves preceding my arrival but he was a great help otherwise. I used to stroke his nose and mane and give him a handful of sugar after each job! Good old Toby!”
“And where is Toby now? The glue factory?”
“No, he died.”
“Oh, how sad. Old age?”
“No, diabetes.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, poor old Toby. I couldn’t bring myself to get another so I decided to go about the Realm on foot.”
“I expected,” began an exasperated Evil Queen. “That the Grim Reaper wouldn’t be so squeamish as this.”
“Anyway!” he protested. “There’s not just that but I don’t have the insurance of the qualifications to kill animals.”
“What!”
“Yes,” he shrugged. “The Realm Union’s removal took all our privileges away. Back in the day, we could kill anything that crawled or walked the Realm.”
“The bloody Realm Union were a bunch of bureaucrats!” cried the Evil Queen.
“Some said so but they controlled and regulated how the Realm worked. Workers had rights, you couldn’t just go about slaying anything you wanted! No, things were better back then!”
“Don’t tell me you are a Unionist!” she gave him a dirty look.
“I am your Evilness,” the Grim Reaper nodded indignantly.
“I see, well anyway, you must do Percy as well. He is just as dangerous as the Prince I believe! I have heard stories that he invented gunpowder and the cannon!”
“I won’t do it!” the Grim Reaper was adamant. “I’ll get the Prince but I won’t go as far as scything down a horse. I sobbed that night I gave Toby his final lump of sugar and he fell into a diabetic coma.”
“Fine!” she snapped. “We’ll sort him out later then! Now go! Travel Westwards to the camp where the Prince is, off him and then come back. We can then turn our attention to invading other Kingdoms without the threat of the Prince and his army!”
“Okey dokey!” said Death cheerfully and he disappeared into the shadows.
“Excellent!” said the Evil Queen as she rubbed her hands together before reaching for a fresh syringe of Botox.
Meanwhile the Tin Soldier Man and the Griffin were starting out on their odyssey of depravity.
“I can’t wait to get started!” declared the Griffin as he flew across the sky in the south of the Realm with the Tin Soldier Man held in his talons.
“I have had many a good time in the barn!” enthused the Tin Soldier Man before pointing downwards. “Oh look! There it is! Down there!”
The Griffin swooped down to a field where there lay a large wooden barn on the outskirts. He let go of the Tin Soldier Man who stood up using his crutches.
“Is that it?!” the Griffin indicated the building.
“Oh yes!”
“It doesn’t look like there’s anyone in it?”
“Well you didn’t stipulate exactly what you wanted?” pointed out the Tin Soldier Man. “I seem to recall that you are happy laying down with all sorts?”
“Yes…”
“Just inside the door of the barn,” explained the Tin Soldier Man. “There is a troll.”
“I don’t want to be with a troll!” cried the Griffin. “I met one once and they kept on following me around the Realm afterwards making rude remarks about me.”
“No, you don’t understand! He’s there to take your money. Pay him and he will direct you to the creature of your choice!”
“I see, I see!” said the Griffin, brightening up. “And what creatures are in there?”
“Oh, all sorts! Sheep, horses, a lovely goat called Matilda, a pony, a ram, a chicken, a few cockerels…”
“Wow!”
“A donkey, a zebra, a hamster, a gerbil, a lizard, a rhino…”
“I am going in!” the Griffin marched off in the direction of the barn and knocked on the door.
“Hello?” a particularly ugly looking troll pulled the door back prior to looking the Griffin up and down suspiciously.
“I have been told you might be able to help me?”
“I’ve told you people before! I am just a farmer raising livestock! There’s nothing to see here!”
“What?”
“I am sick of the authorities coming round here and making wild accusations! I am merely a humble old farmer! Unless…you’re not from the revenue are you? I am fully up to date you know! I pay my dues!”
“What? No…you misunderstand…I am here on…business.”
“Oh…” the troll softened before sizing him up again. “I see. Well…I suppose you offer a certain novelty value. We get all sorts coming here you know.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Oh yes, I haven’t got any like you so you might be appealing to some punters. Especially if they’d had a few to drink. They get more depraved in that state you see. Tell you what, come inside and go stand between the pony and Matilda. There’s a spot there. Help yourself to the oats in the trough.”
“What? But…” the Griffin stammered.
“Come on, you’ll fit in here,” the troll pulled the Griffin inside the barn and pushed him in the direction of the pony and Matilda who regarded him with surprise.
Half an hour later the Tin Soldier Man ran out of patience and went to knock on the door of the barn.
“Hello?” the troll pulled the door back with a frown.
“Err…my friend came here a short while ago…”
“Tin Soldier Man!” cried the troll. “I haven’t seen you for ages!”
“Yes, yes hello.”
“You want the usual?”
“Maybe later…” the Tin Soldier Man shrugged. “But about my friend.”
“We’ve not had any punters so far this morning,” explained the troll. “Slow day unfortunately. I blame the Realm Union splitting up. Less people crossing from Kingdom to Kingdom. Poor footfall. Back in the day, when the Realm Union was still in place, we’d have dozens of people travellers coming here from all around the Realm. Day and night!”
“I remember…but about my friend?”
“I said, nobody has been here today.”
“But I saw him come in?”
“What?” the troll suddenly became less affable. “You’re not from the authorities are you? Gone over to the dark side have we Tin Soldier Man? Thought you’d trick your way into my trust and then shop me?”
“No, no! I am genuine!” cried the Tin Soldier Man. “My friend came in here about half an hour ago. You opened the door to him! The Griffin!”
“Oh…” the troll sighed in relief. “Him! He’s not a punter. He’s joined the firm! Our latest recruit. I reckon, once he’s settled in and the punters have been introduced to him, he’ll be very popular. We don’t have anything like him. He’s very bespoke. One for my clients with special requirements.”
“Special requirements?” inquired the Tin Soldier Man.
“The weirdos.”
“Oh I see,” the Tin Soldier Man nodded. “So he’s working here now then?”
“Oh yes!”
“Right, I didn’t expect that but he’s a grown up and if that’s what he wants then fine.”
“Yep!”
“Well, while I am here…” he produced a handful of gold coins.
“I’ll lead you to the gerbil.”
The Evil Queen had viewed all this in her Mirror.
“I don’t believe it!” she raged. “I send that fool Archie to the Prince as a double agent and he seemingly forgets about it. Then I allow the Tin Soldier Man and that warped Griffin to go off for a little extra curricular activity and they do this to me!”
“I always said you were a lousy judge of character!” began the sprite in the Mirror of the Evil Queen’s cosmetics compact. “Although it doesn’t surprise me that the Griffin has now gone on the game!”
“I suppose the Tin Soldier Man might come back,” said the Evil Queen glumly. “Not that he offers much.”
“You can say that again! He’s legless.”
“He has one leg!”
“Drunk!”
“Oh that…well he is apparently suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.”
“The poor little cherub! Perhaps you should hire a counsellor?”
“No need,” insisted the Evil Queen. “I gave him a pep talk.”
“You did?”
“Oh yes,” she nodded. “You see behind this stunningly beautiful exterior there lies a compassionate person. Somebody who can listen to the worries and fears and anxieties of a person. They can unpack their souls to me.”
“I never knew.”
“Oh yes,” continued the Evil Queen. “The Tin Soldier Man is grieving. Firstly, there’s his leg. He was an athletic and strapping man once upon a time so to lose his leg was life shattering. But then, to make matters worse, the love of his life the Paper Ballerina…”
“I believe she was very beautiful?” said the Mirror.
“She was okay I suppose, if you like getting paper cuts…but anyway…the Paper Ballerina was burned alive and the Tin Soldier Man was heartbroken.”
“Poor chap,” remarked the Mirror. “So what did you say to him?”
“I told him to buck his ideas up!”
“Right, very empathetic.”
“I couldn’t bear the snivelling self-indulgence!” added the Evil Queen. “Moping about the place. It was bad for morale.”
“I’m not sure he will be returning then,” said the Mirror.
“We might not need them anyway,” smiled the Evil Queen. “Now that I have put Plan B into action.”
“The assassination of Prince Charming you mean?”
“Yes! I can’t see Death failing. For once I have an expert working on the case! And once he bumps off the Prince, our enemies would have lost their talisman. They will fall apart and we can completely annex every Kingdom in the Realm.”
“Seems a bit underhand to me,” said the Mirror. “You couldn’t defeat them in battle so you got Death to get their leader. I suppose he’ll sneak up on him in the shadows and kill him?”
“Underhand or cunning?”
“Underhand.”
“I don’t care what you think! For once the Warlock produced someone useful!”
“About that,” said the Mirror. “You will still need a big and efficient army to invade the Realm even without the Prince opposing you. The Warlock still hasn’t conjured up anything like what would be required?”
“I suppose you might be right! Warlock!”
The Warlock emerged from his tent looking distinctly dishevelled and holding his hip flask.
“Yes, dear sister?”
“How are you getting on with my army?”
“I have been working on some spells,” he explained after taking a big gulp of brandy.
“And?”
“I have worked out how to produce an infinite supply of brandy! I am thinking of bottling it up and selling it.”
“That’s not exactly what I was wanting to hear!” the Evil Queen glared at him. “What about my soldiers?”
“Oh that…”
“Yes that!”
“I got bored by all of that,” he shrugged. “I needed a break.”
“A break? What from summoning up a procession of mostly useless creatures and reprobates?”
“I gave you naval capabilities?” argued the Warlock.
“Naval capabilities?”
“Yes so you can control the rivers and the high seas?”
“By naval capabilities, do you mean the Ugly Duckling?”
“Yes! He might be little but wait until he grows up!”
“You are expecting me to control the rivers and dominate the high seas with a duck?” the Evil Queen growled.
“It’s a start!”
“Pathetic! No, you need to up your game. Conjure up more for me. Immediately!”
“Alright, alright,” he sighed prior to mumbling a few incoherent words, waving his hands in the air and closing his eyes.
There was a flash of light.
In front of them were two creatures.
“Well,” tutted the Evil Queen. “My hopes weren’t high, I must confess.”
“They must be able to perform some duty!” insisted the Warlock.
“A hare and a tortoise?”
“Yes, they could be…messengers! Yes, messengers!”
The two creatures regarded the Evil Queen and the Warlock in confusion.
“Go on then,” the Evil Queen urged them. “Show us how fast you can move.”
The hare chuckled to himself before disappearing off into the undergrowth. The tortoise looked less impressed and took one slow step forward.
The Prince and Percy were at the end of their watch for the camp as night fell.
They stood on the outskirts of the camp facing an easterly direction where they suspected the Evil Queen and her people were located.
“Seems quiet out there,” said the Prince.
“Yes sire. I do wonder what is holding her back. I would have expected us to have encountered them by now. We have been advancing several miles each day. Given where her Kingdom is, you’d think we would have met them at that rate, assuming she and her army are still moving across the Realm?”
“Yes, it is a puzzle,” admitted the Prince. “Maybe her army isn’t mobilising that successfully?”
“That’s a point.”
“Right then,” the Prince checked his pocket watch. “Time to handover for the night. Archie?!”
“Oh why do I have to be on the night watch?” grumbled Archie from the shadows.
“Stop whining. We all have to do our bit.”
“Although sire,” whispered Percy. “Isn’t there a high probability that Archie is likely to betray us so letting him stay on night watch while the rest of us are asleep a little risky? He could let anyone into the camp?”
“Fair point Percy but he hasn’t done anything treacherous thus far so I think we were being overly suspicious.”
They left their position to be replaced by Archie.
“If you think this best sire,” said Percy as they headed towards their tent.
“Yes, I think it’s far more likely that Archie would fall asleep and our enemies get into our camp that way.”
“Thinking about it, complete incompetence is probably more likely than betrayal as far as Archie is concerned.”
All was quiet in the camp for a few hours. The others all slept and, as predicted, Archie too nodded off.
This meant that Death was able to slip into the camp unnoticed. Holding his trusty scythe, he chuckled at the sight of a sleeping Archie prior to heading to the tent in which the Prince slept.
Fortunately for the Prince, Percy who was sleeping on a bale of hay outside the tent, was stirred and immediately raised the alarm.
“Sire, sire!” he cried.
“Oh bollocks!” hissed Death.
“What is it?” the Prince poked his head out of the tent.
“An intruder sire!”
The Prince looked up to see Death standing in front of the tent.
“Who the heck are you?”
“It doesn’t matter!” replied Death. “Now your time has come!”
“Sire, I think this person might be the Grim Reaper.”
“Oh is it indeed!” the Prince leapt out from the tent, producing his sword and pointing it to the throat of Death.
“You can’t do that!” protested Death as he put down his scythe.
“Oh, can’t I?”
“You can’t kill Death!”
“Why not?”
“It’s not the done thing!” he whined.
“I thought Death was a myth,” shrugged the Prince. “Or even if he did exist, he might be some spirit? But I see here a real creature.”
“Just put the sword down and let me get on with my job!”
“I don’t understand this!” the Prince was defiant. “I don’t feel ill and there are no threats to my life present other than you? It is as if you have come here on purpose rather than, as you put it, my time has come?”
“Oh damn it!” Death scowled.
“Come on, explain yourself!” the Prince prodded the point of his sword against Death’s throat.
“Okay! Okay!” he squealed. “I have been sent here, on purpose, by the Evil Queen…”
“So it isn’t my time?”
“No, in fact, if you even have a time, I don’t know when it is!”
“Drop your scythe!”
“Okay…” the Grim Reaper gulped and let go of his scythe. “Please don’t kill me.”
“So the Evil Queen sent you here to kill me?” the Prince glared at him. “I wasn’t aware that the Grim Reaper was a gun for hire?”
“That Warlock fella summoned me up!”
“Oh, did he indeed?” the Prince removed his sword from Death’s throat and replaced it in the sheath. “How about we come to an arrangement? You must dislike what she has you doing?”
“It’s unusual, I admit,” Death held his head in shame.
“If I were you, I’d want to return to the day job?”
“I miss it.”
“Then,” the Prince raised an eyebrow at him. “Go back to the Evil Queen and tell her you got me and then leave her service.”
“But sire,” began Percy. “She will be using her mirror to see all of this? She will know that Death is lying.”
“It’s dark Percy,” shrugged the Prince. “She won’t be able to see anything?”
“Oh yes. How convenient.”
“Yes Percy.”
“And contrived.”
“Okay,” said Death. “I shall go to her and tell her you are gone. Then I shall return to my old life.”
“Excellent,” beamed the Prince as Death retrieved his scythe and disappeared into the shadows.
“I expect the plan therefore sire is for the Evil Queen to be fooled and lower her guard?”
“Oh yes Percy!” said the Prince cheerfully. “Although this goes to show that she is summoning up a right motley crew of creatures and beings. We are just lucky that Death was not really a convert.”
The Evil Queen was enthusiastic about Death’s return to her camp.
“I trust things went accordingly!” she was smug.
“Yes,” he nodded slowly. “And now I must depart.”
“What?” her face fell.
“I must go about my duties,” he explained severely.
“If you have to!” she said sulkily. “The end of the Prince will make my annexation of the entire Realm considerably easier.”
To be continued…
Athon 