Jabberwocky (10 page)

At the end of the hall was a large oak door. Captain Darieus removed a key from his pocket and opened it. On the other side was a smaller hall than the previous, though still impressive. Instead of being lined with common animals, Tjaden realized in amazement that it was filled with implausible creatures.

He recognized almost all of the beasts, some of them only by legend; he just hadn’t believed that some of them actually existed. Two bandersnatches stood menacingly near the door. The spines on their back were raised and their skin had a red tinge.

Not quite as frumious as the one I fought, but close.

Next to the bandersnatches crouched a pair of barbantulas—great, hairy spiders with legs as wide as Tjaden’s, and twice as long.

Tjaden smiled and looked at Ollie, who gawked at the creatures with his mouth agape. “Still say barbantulas don’t exist?” asked Tjaden.

Gaping at the grisly collection, Ollie muttered, “I respectfully rescind rashly recited rantings.”

A small flock of Jubjub birds hung suspended from the ceiling, peering down with glassy eyes. Their red wings were angled backward in a life-like dive. By reflex Tjaden's hand went to his sword, and keeping his eyes on them until he was clear, he moved on.

They passed a short, shaggy animal with oversized paws that he assumed was a feriwumpus. The next animal was a squat, wrinkled form that resembled a mix between a monkey and a crow. “Is that…”

“A Targus?” asked Captain Darieus. “Yes, indeed it is. Notice the advanced age. ‘Tis true the elder Targus are much more deadly. I took this one with a single arrow.”

Captain Darieus moved proudly among the displayed corpses. “I have hunted extinct animals,” pointing to three dodos and a gryphon, “terrible creatures,” now signaling the bandersnatches, “and even some that any reasonable person would swear do not exist.” Without a shred of modesty he indicated a brilliant white equine form with a solitary pearly horn.

Tjaden was disturbed by the macabre collection. Hunting animals for food and clothing was a way of life in all towns, but it was obvious Captain Darieus killed for self-gratification, and not on a small scale.

“But this is not why we are here.” He led them around a partition where a full skeleton of a Jabberwocky was displayed. “Behold your enemy.”

The bones looked like a series of oversized snake skeletons extending from an immense rib cage and spine. Tjaden immediately noticed a problem. “Where’s the head, Sir?”

“Ah, the one flaw in my collection. We were able to disassemble the body and bring it back in pieces. But the head was damaged so severely in the battle we couldn’t salvage any bones. I’ve been waiting two decades to finish this skeleton. I’m counting on you to complete my collection.”

Whatever reasons Captain Darieus had for sending him instead of other Elites, Tjaden was glad for the opportunity to go after Elora himself. Nodding, he said, “I’ll bring you the head.”

As long as it doesn’t interfere with rescuing Elora.

*****

Later that day, Ollie practiced at the archery range. Both he and Captain Darieus felt his time would be better spent practicing with his bow than doing physical training with Tjaden.

He took careful aim.

“Not going to get the bullseye again,” called Egden, a fellow Fellow.

Thwang, thunk.

Ollie’s arrow found the bullseye, joining two of his other five arrows in the tight circle.

“I’ll be hornswaggled. How’d you do that?” asked Egden.

“It’s all about breathing,” answered Ollie. “That’s the first thing I learned. Out. In. Release. I’ve known that longer than I’ve known you should never run to the privy.”

“Never run to the privy?” asked Shen, a Fellow recruit from Palassiren.

“That’s right,” said Ollie with a smile. “That’s the last place you want to try to catch your breath.”

When Ollie started training, he had good basic bow skills, mostly learned from Mikel. The time he devoted boosted his skill immensely and the exceptional training in the Academy turned him into a better shooter than any of the other recruits. All of his precious free time was spent on the range both shooting and picking up tips from more experienced archers.

Devoting himself to a task with such dedication was rewarding in a way he’d never experienced. In the week and a half since Mikel gave him the bow, he’d invested more of himself into learning its mastery than any other venture. For the first time, he felt true satisfaction as a result of prolonged effort. The bow was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

A week into the specialized training, Ollie awoke excited at the prospect of a small break. It was Capital Day, a holiday commemorating the building of Palassiren. This being the fiftieth anniversary, the king was scheduled to spend the day greeting his subjects in the open square in front of the palaces. Captain Darieus made all the arrangements, and assigned people to carry out the logistics of parading thousands of people through the plaza. The fiftieth year being a Jubilation year, a feast was to be provided as well. The Elite recruits and their Fellows were to form part of the Honor Guard for the king.

Of course Tjaden had been excused from the Honor Guard; neither he nor Captain Darieus was willing to lose even a few hours of training. King Barash approved the captain’s absence, and by way of paying respects to the occasion, Captain Darieus offered to lend the king his Elite cloak to wear as a symbol of Maravilla’s military might.

“Too bad you don’t get a day off, Jay,” Ollie said the morning of the Jubilation.

“In another week we’ll both have a few days off to travel. And from what Captain Darieus told me, you can afford to take today off. He said there isn’t much left for you to learn on the range.”

Ollie was shocked. “He told you that?”

Tjaden nodded. “He knows you still have room to improve, but he hasn’t seen many recruits that can shoot like you.”

Ollie deflected the sincere praise. “For the next week I’m going to work on my speed. I’ve seen some of the masters using quick fire techniques. I’m not slow, but they can fire two arrows for every one of mine.”

Tjaden didn’t let him off that easily. “I’m glad you’re my Fellow, Ollie. You’ve learned more here than any of the other Fellow recruits.”

“Alright, I get it. You’re proud of me. You’re not going to kiss me now or anything, are you?”

“No, I’ll save that for Elora.”

The mood turned somber at the mention of her name and Ollie said, “One week, Jay. We’ll go get her in one week.”

Ollie wore his accustomed pale blue recruit uniform, but Darieus insisted Tjaden wear a dark blue Elite’s uniform for the Jubilation day. Neither he nor Ollie understood the reason, since Tjaden wouldn’t be participating in the festivities, but he didn’t object. The friends bid farewell, Tjaden off with Darieus, and Ollie to stand as sentinel.

Ollie had never seen anything like the crowds that assembled before the gates had even opened. He looked forward to the revelry—not to mention a break from his morning classes—but he longed to be at the archery range.

Thoughts of the small archery range back in Shey’s Orchard made him think of Tjaden. The special attention Tjaden was receiving didn’t make him jealous or bitter at all, and that surprised him. In fact, Ollie felt more comfortable about who he was than ever before.

Carrying his bow over his shoulder, Ollie walked past the Circle and Sword sculpture and into the plaza, which was filling with citizens and soldiers. The Elites wore swords or axes, but most of the Fellows hadn’t bothered to bring weapons. Only a few Fellows bothered to bring their bows, crossbows, and javelins. The regular soldiers would provide crowd control, so the Honor Guard duty didn’t necessitate being armed.

Some of the other recruits teased Ollie as he walked out to the courtyard. “It’s an
Honor
Guard,” said Brin-Dar. “You’re not going to war.”

Ollie simply said, “My bow goes where I go.” He could tell they were disappointed by his uncharacteristically serious response.

Though filled with excitement, the day started to drag after standing for an hour. The citizens that filed past the king became a steady stream of repetitive faces. Ollie’s mind drifted to the range. If he couldn’t practice with his bow he would practice with his mind.
Breathe. Raise bow. Draw. Aim. Out. In. Release. Bullseye
. He went over and over it in his mind.

As he was about to mentally release another arrow he was torn from his trance by a terrified scream. Lifting his eyes, he saw a great, dark shape descending on the courtyard. In the commotion of the celebration, everyone had failed to notice the Jabberwocky until it was in their midst.

The earth shuddered as the Jabberwocky crashed to the ground, landing on four Elites and a Fellow a mere twenty paces from the king. Citizens fled in every direction as practiced soldiers drew weapons while moving to place themselves between the creature and their king. Even from a distance of thirty paces, Ollie smelled the Jabberwocky’s stench, like rancid oil.

As the soldiers prepared to move in, the Jabberwocky scanned the crowd as if looking for someone in particular. It seemed to be inspecting the assembly with both its fiery eyes and flat nostrils. It locked onto the king and the plaza erupted in a flurry of action.

The soldiers attacked in unison, but were only able to land superficial blows. At the same time the Jabberwocky speedily bounded toward the king.

How does such an ungainly beast move so fast?
Ollie wondered as he nocked an arrow. The soldiers who attempted to keep the beast from the king were thrown aside or crushed by the creature’s hasty approach.

Ollie took aim and let fly, but his arrow glanced harmlessly off the Jabberwocky’s chest. The monster loomed over the petrified king. While readying another arrow, this one aimed at its curvy neck, he saw the Jabberwocky pause to inhale King Barash’s scent. Ollie drew back again and his arrow flew true, lodging in the creature’s outstretched neck just under the head. The monster’s threatening growl turned sharp in pain for a moment, but it was not long distracted by the arrow or the infrequent soldiers who got past the thrashing tail. It didn’t seem to mind the minor wounds inflicted by the soldiers’ weapons and none could get close enough to strike deeply.

The Jabberwocky opened its terrible maw, bit down on the blue-clad king, and lifted him as effortlessly as a girl picking up a baby doll. It slammed the king to the stone courtyard, and his body bounced, lifeless. Lowering its head, it inspected the unmoving corpse.

While its snake-like tail kept the encroaching soldiers at bay, the Jabberwocky’s attention stayed on the king, barely flinching when Ollie sunk another arrow into its neck. After a short time inspecting the king’s body, the Jabberwocky’s eyes opened in an expression of shock. With a powerful bellow, it turned its fury on the attacking soldiers. Tail whipping, claws gouging, and jaws biting—any soldier within reach was thrown violently to the side or left lifeless on the ground.

Ollie changed tactics and aimed for one of the creature’s too-small wings. They were relatively still as the Jabberwocky used its other appendages for the deadly assault. Aiming for the intersection of two of the supporting bands of cartilage, Ollie focused on remaining calm. His arrow passed through the glutinous wing and tore a chunk of waxy flesh as it exited. That got the Jabberwocky’s attention. It grasped a fully armored corpse in its claws and hurled it in Ollie’s direction.

The throw was on target. Ollie was knocked down and pinned to the ground by the dead Elite. Severe pain shot through his left leg. From his pinned position, Ollie lifted his head and saw a light blue uniformed leg emerging at an angle from under the heavy soldier.

I wonder whose leg that is.

Movement had died down around the Jabberwocky, but it continued to scan the crowd. When there were no more soldiers within striking distance, it took flight, barely wounded.

Intense pain dragged Ollie into unconsciousness, but not before he witnessed the Jabberwocky’s unsteady flight.

I got him…

*****

Tjaden expected commotion on the day of Jubilation, but the sight as he entered the plaza with Captain Darieus was complete mayhem. Enough so that the two heard the din from their sequestered position on the training grounds. Thousands of citizens swarmed the gates leading out of the square to the city proper. Soldiers, especially the Fellows, attempted to aid fallen brothers, and a huge, unorganized group surrounded King Barash’s throne. Tjaden’s hand went to the hilt of his sword, but Captain Darieus was calm, even unconcerned about the devastation.

Tjaden followed Captain Darieus to the edge of the king’s dais. Bluish and still, the king lay on top of Captain Darieus’ Elite cloak, his physicians helpless to aid. They directed a blanket be placed over the body. King Barash was dead.

Even though he hadn’t been assigned to the guard, and was only a recruit, Tjaden felt a pang of guilt. The man he’d sworn to defend lay dead in front of him.

Captain Darieus addressed a nearby Elite, “Soldier?”

With a salute he answered, “Sir, the Jabberwocky. It…it came out of nowhere. Went straight for His Majesty. It didn’t care about anyone else until after it killed him. Left with some minor wounds, a few arrows stuck in. We have dozens dead and at least as many injured.”