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Authors: John Morressy

Tags: #Fantasy, #Humour

Kedrigern in Wanderland (14 page)

BOOK: Kedrigern in Wanderland
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Nine
kedrigern without princess

 

A Warning To The Reader

Several very nasty scenes occur in this chapter, and those who are reading for delight and diversion may be upset by them. However, anyone who skips to the next chapter will miss important information and key details regarding the life of Dyrax, the useful but seldom-seen herb
Haemony,
and the shocking malice of Vorvas the Vindictive. It would be best to read this chapter in its entirety, but cautiously. And not too soon after eating.

 

 

“OH DEAR ME,”
said Kedrigern softly.

“What’s wrong?” Dyrax asked.

“Princess is gone. She must have strayed into the enchanted wood. The pack animals are gone, too.”

“Maybe it’s we who have strayed, Master Kedrigern. This place is odd.”

“What do you mean, odd?”

“It feels strange. Tingly. Like cool breezes blowing on you from all sides, very gently, only. they’re not really cool and the air is still.”

Kedrigern looked around, sniffed the unstirred air, and then looked around once more, studying the sky, the trees, and the path. “I think you’re right, Dyrax. We’ve crossed over somehow, but I don’t understand how I did it without knowing,” said the wizard, looking uncomfortable.

“You said your magic was low,” Dyrax pointed out.

“It’s not
that
low. I should be able to sense enchantment when I’m riding straight into it. Unless
. . .
maybe this is a very complicated and subtle bit of enchantment.”

“It’s an old one. Or so I’ve heard.”

Kedrigern grunted irritably. “I’ve heard that, too. And an old enchantment, as a rule, loses a bit of its strength as the centuries go by unless it’s very conscientiously maintained. But this one is still powerful. It must have been a masterpiece when it was new.”

“Maybe if we just rode very carefully back the way we came
. . .“

“It wouldn’t do a bit of good. You can wander into an enchanted wood, but you can’t wander out again. You have to break the enchantment to escape.”

“We could shout to your good lady. She could use her magic.”

Kedrigern shook his head. “She wouldn’t hear us. These things are soundproof. I’m sure she’s calling to us right now, but you don’t hear her voice, do you?”

“Not a sound.”

“Well, then.” Kedrigern rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and at last said, “Princess will be safe, I think. She can fly. She’s got her magic, and she’s got the packhorses with all the supplies. And if worse comes to worst, she’s got Louise. What we have to do, Dyrax, is concentrate on getting out of here and making our way to the Singing Forest. She’ll go there and expect us to meet her.”

“Then you plan to
. . .
to go on? In there?” Dyrax asked in a shrunken voice, pointing to the dark path ahead.

“We might as well. We’re sure to end up there anyway.

Enchanted woods are tricky that way. The paths have minds of their own. I want to get out of here as soon as possible, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, certainly,” said Dyrax, but he kept his horse reined in.

“What’s the matter? A little while ago you were itching to fight an army. Don’t you want to perform a heroic deed?”

“I do, but I’d rather perform it against an army. Enchantment makes me nervous.”

“A little enchantment won’t hurt you, Dyrax. Trust me. Once my powers are back to full strength I’ll be able to handle anything we encounter.”

“What if we encounter something
before
your powers are restored?”

Kedrigern gestured confidently. “I’ll improvise. Or you can perform a heroic deed.” He urged the great black horse forward at a walk. A few paces on, he tumed and motioned to Dyrax. “Come on,” he said cheerfully. The young man followed, glancing from side to side and keeping his hand near his sword.

Though he put up a convincing show of confidence, Kedrigern was well aware of the potential danger. Enchanted woods were, as a rule, places to be avoided whenever possible. The fact that no one knew for certain just how, and why, and by whom, and for how long this particular wood had been enchanted did nothing to reassure him. Even at the peak of his power he would have stayed clear of such a place. Now, still weakened in magic by his clash with the Green Riddler, he would have to be doubly wary and trust to luck.

He had his medallion; that was some comfort. And he felt a bit stronger now than he had the previous evening. In fact, he thought, with the proper herbs he might even now be able to throw together a magic that would keep Dyrax and himself safe from most threats, lead them to the source of the enchantment, and help him to undo it. He slowed his mount and began to study the ground. Dyrax looked on

curiously, but asked no questions -for a time. Finally, when they had ridden the greater part of a league with Kedrigern hanging half out of his saddle, peering closely at the herbage and sniffing the air like a hound on the scent, Dyrax could contain himself no longer.

“Is something wrong? Have we wandered off the way?” he asked.

“No, we’re doing very well so far. I’m just looking for herbs.”

“Herbs?”

“Yes. You can work some useful magic with herbs if you can find the right ones. And if you know what you’re doing.”

“I thought herbs were just for fixing upset stomachs and toothaches and such.”

“Not at all, my boy. You can do great things with herbs. Nice clean kind of magic, too. And if it doesn’t work, you’ve at least got the beginnings of a decent salad. You can’t go wrong with herbs.”

Dyrax could think of no appropriate response, and attempted none. They rode a bit farther, until Kedrigern gave a happy shout, reined in his steed, and jumped to the ground, dropping to his knees in a patch of bright golden flowers.

“Haemony!” he cried. “The real thing, Dyrax, genuine haemony! I almost didn’t recognize it with the flowers in full bloom!”

“Is haemony good, Master Kedrigern?” asked Dyrax, dismounting.

“It’s wonderful! Haemony is of sovereign use against all enchantments and ghastly apparitions. It’s also good for mildew and damp.”

“Is it really? Do you mind if I gather some? In case I return home someday, it might help around the castle. My father was always—” Dyrax checked himself with a sharp intake of breath and began to pluck up the small yellow flowers, keeping his eyes lowered.

Kedrigern studied him for a moment and at last said,

“Make sure you get the roots. That’s where their strength is.,’

“The roots. Yes. Thank you,” said Dyrax, keeping his eyes averted. “Tell me, Master Kedrigern, how did you learn of this wondrous plant? I’ve never seen it myself.”

“You may have seen the plant, but never in bloom. It needs a special soil for that. Most of the time it has darkish leaves with prickles all over them. Rather unattractive. I heard about it from a shepherd lad. He wasn’t much to look at himself, poor chap, but he knew every virtuous plant and healing herb under the sun, and he loved to talk about them. He showed me a little dried-up root and said that it was called ‘haemony.’ Better than moly for protection, he claimed, and that’s saying a lot. He told me how to recognize it, but from that day to this I never saw so much as a stalk of it,” said the wizard, rolling up his sleeves. “I intend to lay in a good supply. So your father’s a king, is he?”

“Yes, my father is Lutermine, King of the—” Dyrax said, taken off his guard by the unexpected question. He groaned and looked sheepishly at the wizard.

“I thought so. Hard to disguise good breeding. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, my boy.”

“It isn’t my birth I’m ashamed of, Master Kedrigern. On the contrary, I’m proud of my parents and I miss them greatly.”

“Why did you leave them in the first place?”

Solemnly, the youth said, “I have loved and lost, Master Kedrigern.”

“Not an uncommon condition among healthy young males. But that’s just the time when a man needs his family to cheer him up.”

“Ab, but you see, they would expect me to pine and mope for a time, grow pale and sigh and wander about the castle in a disheveled state, and at last get over my sorrow and find a new love,”

Knocking a bit of dirt from a haemony root, Kedrigern said, “It’s been known to happen.”

“To other men, perhaps. But I know in my heart that I can never love again. Being a prince, I have obligations, and being a devoted son, I would accede to my parents’ wishes. For reasons of state, they would have me enter a loveless marriage with some beautiful young princess.”

“Give it a try, Dyrax. You might be pleasantly surprised.”

The youth sighed, shook his head sadly, and tugged at a haemony stalk. “No, good wizard. For me there can be no one but the fair Kressimonda.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

“A name befitting her matchless beauty,” said Dyrax reverently. “Kressimonda, Kressimonda! Hair the color of blown embers, eyes like the midday skies at harvest time, skin like cream, a breath as sweet and fragrant as a meadow of flowers

“Sounds lovely,” Kedrigern murmured.

“Graceful as a cat, gentle as a doe, blithe as a butterfly, laughter sweet as birdsong, a voice like crystal chimes in a spring breeze, a silken hand, a tiny foot
. . .
ah, Kressimonda, Kressimonda!” the youth rhapsodized.

“Clearly, you are fond of the lady. Is there any possibility of a reconciliation?”

“She has married another,” said Dyrax in a doomed voice. “Forced by her calculating parents, she has wed an aging lecher, a wealthy lord who lives in a gleaming palace, where he dines off plates of gold with diamond-encrusted tableware. We, who had been sweethearts since childhood, who had sworn to love forever while we could barely lisp one another’s names, were tom asunder. She was driven by others’ greed into the arms of a doddering miser.”

“How old is this miser? Maybe it’s only a matter of waiting a year or two

“He is quite twenty-eight, at least. Perhaps as much as thirty,” said Dyrax with scorn.

“I see. That could mean a long wait.”

“I am not a man for waiting, Master Kedrigern. Immediately I learned of Kressimonda’s wedding, I armed my-

self and rode to the villain’s castle. I fought my way through a hundred guards to reach her side, and shouted in a great voice, “I have come for you, my Kressimonda! The ordeal is over! I shall carry you off to my mountain stronghold, and there we shall live and love through all our days!”

“And
. . .
?“
Kedrigern asked in a hushed, expectant voice.

Dyrax heaved a deep despairing sigh that seemed to empty his body of breath and hope. He tore up a cluster of baemony with a violent gesture and shook the dirt free with a vehemence that scattered petals around him in a golden shower and got little bits of dirt all over Kedrigern, who went on with his own gathering and said nothing more. After a long pause, Dyrax said in a choked voice. “She told me that her husband was kind and generous and very affectionate. She praised his wonderful sense of humor. She said that they were happy together, and expressed her fond wish that I become as a brother to them both. I spumed the words she had been tricked into uttering, Master Kedrigern. I left the castle, broken-hearted, but first I proclaimed to all present that I would love no one but Kressimonda, and never marry another. I have spoken strong words, Master Kedrigern, and cannot retract them.”

“There are extenuating circumstances. You spoke in a moment of extreme stress.”

“No, Master Kedrigern, I will keep my word and win back my Kressimonda. If I perform some great feat, she will hear of it. Her eyes will be opened.”

“But if she really is happily married
. .

“I have said what I have said, Master Kedrigern. Honor’s at the stake. I must be firm.”

“Whatever you say, Dyrax. It’s your life. How are you doing with the haemony?”

“I have a great sufficiency. More than I can carry.”

“I’ll take whatever you don’t want. I know a few

people who’ll be glad to get a sprig or two of this. Are you ready to move on?”

“Quite ready, Master Kedrigern. You say that this plant will protect us againsf enchantment?”

“It will indeed. Just carry it next to your skin, or hang it around your neck,” said the wizard as he stuffed plants into his saddlebag, retaining one which he rubbed clean with his fingers and knotted around the chain of his medallion. “Like this. Or tuck it securely into your waistband. Just be sure it touches your skin.”

He mounted the black steed, who had been contentedly browsing in the haemony patch beside them, and led the way, feeling much more confident and secure. Dyrax, too, rode with a bit more assurance, and his glances to the side were belligerent rather than apprehensive. Thus they rode until late afternoon, when they came to a promising campsite: the ground was flat and dry, firewood was abundant, and a clear stream ran nearby.

“This seems a goodly place to pass the night,” Dyrax observed.

“Looks fine to me. Do you feel any tingling in the air?”

“None whatsoever.”

“Neither do I. It must be safe.”

And so it was. They built a fire, dined simply from their own meager store, and slept without alarm or disturbance until first light. They washed in the stream, but to be on the safe side, did not drink from it, relying instead on their own water-bottles. After a hasty breakfast, they were back on the road.

In a short time they emerged from the forest into an open meadow covered with an odd grayish-white stubble. It looked much like an new-mown field, except that the stubble, instead of being brittle and dry, was quite lively. The tiny stumps writhed in rippling waves of motion.

Their path led directly across the field, bisecting the carpet of wriggling stubble. Kedrigern’s steed went on

BOOK: Kedrigern in Wanderland
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