A
braham woke up the next morning, lying on the farm table. He’d offered his room upstairs to the queen and princess. He sat up, rubbing his stiff back. He smelled bacon and eggs cooking. A few bright coals were still burning in the fireplace.
Prospero was passed out on the right side of the fireplace. His nose twitched. In his sleep, he sniffed. His eyelids started to open. He knocked an empty goblet onto the floor.
Other stirrings started in the room. Vern and Dominga were cuddled up together in the corner. She started to yawn. Cudgel was passed out halfway between the kitchen galley and the farm table.
Elga came out with two canisters with steam coming out the top. The haggard-looking elderly woman stepped on Cudgel as she crossed over to the table and set the pot down. “Fresh coffee, Captain.” Turning back, she kicked Cudgel in the gut. “Coffee’s on!”
Abraham slid off the table and stretched his arms. He’d talked into the wee hours of the morning with Clarann and Clarice. Clarice was excited to meet her father, once and for all. Abraham felt tired. Once again, his sleep had been restless. He dreamed of being back home, facing danger and an uncertain fate. King Hector entered his dreams. The king was angry, disappointed. He’d sent fiery hounds of hell after Ruger.
Eileen teetered in, stepping on Cudgel as she did so. The rickety-limbed woman set down a tray of earthenware cups. She poured a cup of hot coffee with a steady hand. “This will wake you, sire. As you know, my brew can wake the dead. The meal will be served shortly.”
Abraham took the coffee, and the cup warmed his hands. “Thanks.” He walked outside.
The morning sun had begun to rise over the lake. The birds sang their morning songs. The Stronghold’s estate couldn’t have been more perfect. Shades stood by the bonfire, bright eyed and bushy tailed. The guardian maiden, Swan, was with him. The two had hit it off not too long before. The braids in her long black hair were down. She was still hard eyed but, in her own Amazonian way, beautiful too.
“Good morning, Captain!” Shades said brightly.
Abraham approached. He could still feel the warmth from the hot ashes in the fire. “Morning.” He took a sip of coffee. “Let me guess. You two have been up all night.”
In a mannish voice for a woman, Swan said, “The Guardian Maidens require little sleep if not no sleep at all if the queen demands it.”
“Yeah, what a bunch of beautiful bloodguard.” He rubbed his face. It started to bother him that he wasn’t bright eyed and bushy tailed also. Normally, Ruger’s body remained vital as a busy beaver, but he felt drained. Is it me, or was it Fleece? I just can’t get my jump back.
The rest of the Guardian Maidens were standing on guard in front of Stronghold. Every one of them appeared as formidable as the next, in their bronze breastplates and tight leggings. Each carried a spear, with a rapier hanging on her hip.
“So, how did last night go?” Shades asked with a smile. “Are you and the queen, you know, planning another princess?”
Swan backhanded Shades in the shoulder. “I told you not to mention that. Respect the queen’s privacy.”
“I already knew. I’ve always known. Good lord, look at the girl. A blind man can see the resemblance.” Shades chuckled. “How the king missed it, I’ll never know. Of course, maybe the beard threw him off.”
“Yeah, well, the king knows now, and I’m not so sure where we will stand after this.” He squatted down, picked up a piece of kindling, and tossed it into the fire. “I think we made our leader mad.”
“Which kind of mad?” Shades asked.
“Huh—good question.”
Horace and Iris walked out of the barn. Chickens and chicks marched by their feet.
“Well, it looks like someone had a roll in the hay,” Shade said. “Lucky you.”
Iris smiled as she hugged Horace’s side. “It was more than a roll.”
Horace slapped her behind. “You can say that again. We’re making a family.” He sniffed. “And they are hungry!”
“Has anyone seen Solomon?” Abraham asked.
“He was down at the lake last night. We saw him when we took a stroll,” Shades said as he grabbed Swan’s hand though she jerked it away. “He was with the one in white, and the one in pink, Sophia, I think.”
“All right, I’ll go find him. The rest of you go and grab some McVittles. I’ll be back.” He headed toward the large pond. He wasn’t halfway there when Solomon appeared on the horizon.
The troglin was walking arm in arm with two of the triplets at his sides. He had a content look on his face. He lifted his arm and waved. “Good morning.”
Selma and Bridget gave Solomon a squeeze, smiled at Ruger, and hurried back inside.
“Not as good as yours, apparently,” he said.
“Probably not. So, you and the queen didn’t…?”
“Lord, no. I’m in enough trouble with the king as it is. Needless to say, that puts our little situation in a bind.”
Solomon clawed his fingers through the long hairs under his chin and said, “Yeah, you know, I’ve been thinking about that.”
Some squealing pigs ran by their feet.
“About what?”
“Well, I was thinking, if I go back, I’ll be about forty years older, won’t I?”
Abraham shrugged.
“That would put me in my seventies, at least, I think. And heck, what sort of shape would my body be in?”
“You’re an old troglin now. What’s the difference?”
“Troglins live a longer time then men, I think. And I’d be lost, possibly.” Solomon shook his head. “Heck, I don’t know. Perhaps I enjoyed myself too much last night. This world’s kind of funky.”
“Yeah, and you be the funky monkey. Look, I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I do know it’s going to happen. I can feel it in my bones. Once we find those other stones, well, either we stay here or go home. And if we stay here, the king might not be so kind to—”
Riders galloping toward the Stronghold appeared, kicking up dust and scattering grazing livestock. They were King’s Guardians, riding tall in the saddle, with their full lion-face helmets on. They were led by Prince Lewis.
