The Title of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 8) (14 page)

“DeathHoove! Verily thou canst naughtte be restrained! Were these many retainers to release thee, thou wouldst charge across the field and destroy the little smudge of insignificance yourself! Did the groom put a little something in thy fodder to help bring out your bloodlust for battle? Ha! Good! I see it in your rolling, raving, bloodshaughtte eyes, my black beauty killer!”

“We did naughtte throw our favour behind a blasted horse, Gunther! We are counting on
you
to crush this annoyance.”

“You may count on it, my Mistress Morgana. The only thing to cause worry, is whether or naughtte I can restrain myself from killing the wretch before the appropriate signal.”

“Nyenh, henh, henh! I, Merlin, have personally seen to it that your armour is suffused with a magic that makes it invulnerable to any blade!”

“Speaking of blades, I am always confident when I have ‘Slycer’ at my side. This sword and I have slain a hundred men in battle!”

“Mischa, do you have the sheet of sheer invisibility ready?”

“Of course, baughtte we must wait until after the opening ceremonies before we can deploy its secret weapon power, Morgana.”

“Then all is in readiness! I have touched your battle lances Gunther, instilling their shafts with death’s promise. I now have just one more spell to weave.”

I call upon the powers

of deepest Heck.

Help us extinguish

this pesty speck.

Unbeatable in battle!

Bloody goblet runs full.

My spell of thee commands,

Gunther be invincible!

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“How’s it lookin’ out there, Ma’am?”

“I sayeth, as one might suspect. All the court are turned out. Spectators flock from far away lands to see the spectacle.”

“I reckon that’s good for the local aeconomy. What I meant was, does the viewing stand appear to be ready to get things started?”

“Verily, m’lord, the King is in his place with his closest friends about him. Such a festive occasion this is!”

“What about Sir Gunther?”

“Gunther always travels large, baughtte today he has truly outdone himself as his train of staff and men at arms spread in a great array. The three magicians’ caravans are also present.”

“Dang. I was hoping they would go away. What about the other Knights? Do they seemetheth to be throwing their thupport behind Thir Gunther?”

“Oh, yes! Great, noble Knights by the score are lining up in support of Gunther, offering their services to second the man should he need it.”

“Oh. Um, is anybody lining up to support me?”

“Yes, Sir Ichabod!”

“Really, who?”

“Spyke! However, he told me to tell you this as he thinks it may be a disadvantage to his health to get too close to the tent.”

“Oh.”

“Daisy is looking like She’s ready! Verily, she appeareth most eager, Ma’am!”

~sigh~
“Poor little Daisy. Aye, she is a sweet little horse. I will miss her.”

“Don’t say that, Ma’am, she’s gonna do just fine, ain’t you, Miss Daisy, Ma’am?”

“Neheheheheheheh!”

“See, she’s feeling good!”

“Oh, Daisy, thou art a fine chestnut mare. I pray thee leaves the field intact, my sweet.”

“I like her! She’s frisky and nimble!”

“She is too sweet for battle! She licks my face, where I fear Gunther’s steed would do something vastly different if given the chance.”

“Yes, Ma’am, you’re probably right about that.”

“Your preparation has been spent with an equal amount of time in your workshops and your play with Daisy.”

“All work and no play will make you nutty, Ma’am.”

“Indeed.”

“It weren’t no play, no how. Me and Miss Daisy was training!”

“It appeared as play to me, Sir Ichabod. Dost thou really have confidence in these contraptions of yours? Verily, they appear inadequate for the task ahead.”

“I wish I had a chance to test them out, but I reckon I’ll just have to hope for the best.”

“Oh, the bugles blare! That fanfare indicates that the King has called the combatants to the dais!”

“Yes, Ma’am. Do I look all right?”

“No.”

“Oh. Um, I reckon this is it. Wish me luck.”

“Oh, Sir Ichabod, please don’t go! Let us slip out the back and run away!”

“Oh, I don’t reckon that would be proper behaviour for a Knight of the Round Table, Ma’am.”

“I don’t want you to be killed!”

“I ain’t real keen on getting skewered on a lance, Ma’am, I’m telling you that for a fact.”

“Oh, Ichabod, this is naughtte thy time! You have no cause to adhere to our codes or standards!”

“I got a couple of buddies up on the viewing stand, and I would not want to let them down. I like to think that chivalry is a thing that lives in all times, Ma’am.”

“Oh, Ichabod...”

“Ma’am?”

“Didst thou want me to wish for thee good luck on thy foolhardy task?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Then come here, my gallant lad!”

“Eep!”

“Let me get a good, tight, hold of thee, Sir Ichabod. There, that’s just about right. With all that I am, I do hereby grant and bequeath all the luck, all the hope, and all that is good in my being upon thee my sweet champion.”

“Hunh?!”

“Close your eyes, tilt your head and kiss me you funny little man.”

“Mmmmmmm!”

“Holy Crusades! Verily, that there was sure ‘nough a sincere kiss of good luck, Miss Stephanie, Ma’am!”

“Indeedeth. Survive this day, Ichabod, and there will be more where that came from.”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

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“Behold, my wife and Queen Guenevere, Sir Gunther and his entourage emerge from his tent’s secretive folds. Ye, gads, what a monster that man is!”

“Yes, my husband and King, Sir Gunther is a fearsome sight! He and his devil-steed are clad in black as dark as pitch. Scarlett highlights seemeth as blood’s ooze to highlight the fearsome contours of his ghastly armours. A crimson bloom of feathers atop Gunther’s helmet seemeth a gruesome fountain of blood. The red plume mirrors Gunther’s state of mind. Smoke trails seeping from the man leave no doubt he has just been heavily hexed. This horrible vision seemeth more the God of War than Ares Himself.”

“Oui, this is a frightful sight to be sure. The horse’s helmet sports a single forward facing horn. One might think this would convey the image of a unicorn, but in this animal’s case, in conjunction with the heavy plates of black steel, I am thinking the resemblance of the apparition is more to that of a rhinoceros.”

“Hm! Those three magicians are a particularly unsavory laughtte, eh? The tall thin one in the turban, Mischa. Doth he naughtte appear to be swirled about by little sparks of exploding energies?”

“Yes, my king. Methinks he is highly charged with dark magics.”

“So too is our Merlin, eh? He does naughtte stand in a small whirlwind of little sparks as the Russian Swami does; rather, tiny discharges jumpeth from his grinning features. Oh! A tiny discharge just jumped from his fingertip, incinerating a butterfly that fluttered too close.”

“My image of Morgana is distorted. Is that smoke, steam, or something else that shimmers the air about the sinister sorceress? Dear me, I do believe the grass is withering and dieing in a spreading circle around her as we speak!”

“Gunther is leaving his assemblage, and galloping to the royal viewing stand for last minute instructions.”

“Hail, King Arthur! It is I, Sir Gunther GravenHurlle! I am here as promised. I demand that my opponent be made to face me!”

“Hail, Sir Gunther. Let us look to the tent of your foe.”

“There he is, my King!”

“Ye gads, is that really him? That stupid black hat he wears is unmistakable, otherwise, I don’t believe what my eyes are telling me!”

“Oui, my King, and very bestest friend, this sight of the poor wretched Sir Ichabod is naughtte one in which my eyes can accept as true.”

“My King, the reflection from his satin tunic almost blinds me! The weak, lavender colour is as silk! His little brown horse has no armour! Sir Ichabod has no armour and his pink hosiery is plain to see. Yea, the odd fellow goes so far as to wear pink hosiery down his arms as well! It really is unfortunate how the sleeves end in piles of ruffley frills.”

“I’m sorry; I did naughtte even notice any of that. I was too transfixed by his green and white polka-dot pantaloons. Tell me, are they supposed to have those twin bundles of tubular quilted rolls at the inner waist seam?”

“Let us try to take no notice, your Highness.”

“Eh, um, er, oh, yes, hail, and well met, Sir Ichabod. Er, you did realize that you were supposed to be dressed for a joust this morning, yes?”

“Yessir, your Highness, Mr. King Arthur sir. I am ready!”

“Really?”

“Nossir. Hey there, Mr. Sir Gunther, sir, this really is just a big misunderstanding. I would never call you a big sissy. If it will make you feel any better, you can call me a big sissy, and then we’ll be even, okay? I wore these here sissy britches and such to make it easier for you.”

“Bah, thou art truly sissified, baughtte I nay will let thee off so easy! Thou shalt die, insignificant one. Sire, I beg thee, do naughtte allow this farce to continue. Do naughtte desecrate this field with the indignity of one dressed as he. This institution is insulted by his un-manly attire. Allow me to maintain the honour of this Court and slay the foul, effeminate creature here and now.”

“Nay, stay thy hand, Sir Gunther, I have granted the right to die a noble death upon this lad. I task thee with giving him a fair contest.”

“But what about him using all them magic tricks?!”

“Magic is deemed fair play. Good luck to you both.”

“Arrr, Hail, King Arthur!”

~gulp~
“Um yessir, hail King Arthur, y’all.”

“There they go, back to their prospective places to begin the jousts.”

“King Arthur, wait, I have one more preparation!”

“Yes, Mischa?”

“I wish to deploy,
this!
”

~gasp!~
“My King! Mischa has just thrown a sheet over Gunther and his horse that has rendered them both invisible!”

“This I think is too far, your Majesty.”

“No, Launcelot, Sir Ichabod knew what he was getting into.”

“King Arthur! Sir Gunther has disappeared! Is he over there, invisible, ready to charge and run me down?”

“Of course, you silly boy.”

“May I make one last preparation also?”

“Certainly, Sir Ichabod.”

“Okey dokey, I’m gonna drop my tent to reveal an apparatus I have prepared. Do you see the six steel barrels I have arranged? They are lying on their sides and firmly affixed in position. Can you see the wires leading to this stand in the middle? You see this here wheel lying on its side, up in the air on this stand? It ain’t really a wheel. It ain’t flat all around the bottom. The thing is kind of tubey. Sort of like a sausage that has been twisted into a circle. If I were back home in my time, I would call it a ‘dough-naughtte’. Well sir, these here barrels each contain a fortune in copper wiring. There is a space inside where an iron bar rests on a spindle. The iron bar has been magnetized in such a way that when spun inside the chest, it can develop an incredible source of energy. Ol’ Ben Franklin dubbed it ‘electricity’.”

“Yes, yes, the chests are dynamos that generate electricity. You explained all this already Ichabod. Odd’s bodkins, you can be annoying with your tedious, and inane, little explanations!”

“Yessir! I’m sorry your Majesty and all y’all out there that are subject to my tedious explanations!”

“I understand these engines must be given thrall. You have no steamer, no springer, no propellant, at all.”

“Well, sir, Sire, for this particular device, I don’t need a continuous supply of juice, just one big super-surge.”

“Oh, very well, do your thing, Ichabod.”

“Each dynamo is accompanied by a steel jar, or, as I prefer, pot. Inside the pot is a little windmill wheel. A shaft extends from the inner wheel through the wall of the pot to a set of gears that interface with the dynamo. The placement and ratios of these gears confer higher and higher rates of speed to the turn of the consecutive cogs. By the time energies are transferred to the dynamo, the speed is really humming.”

“Yes, yes, baughtte the motivation of your gearing, boy.”

“Yessir. Remember how I blasted Mr. Merlin’s castle into gravel? I used a substance known as dynamite. Each of these pots is equipped with a respectable charge of the explosive. I have the dynamite pots set up in such a way that I will set off all six charges simultaneously. This will spin them dynamos lickety split for about five seconds. This sudden generation of concentrated electricity will send a huge blast of power to my horizontal dough-naughtte which will in turn, emit a pulsation of conjuration cessation and negation to sweep this delegation of aggregation.”