The Title of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 8) (15 page)

“Is it dangerous?”

“We’re about to find out.
Fire in the hole!
”

~BOOM!~

~fuh-
WHOOMP!
puh-puh-puh-puh-puh~

“Your Majesty, art thou well?!”

“Yes, Launcelot, I’m all right. By my boots, did you feel that? It was as if a gentle wave pushed out from Ichabod’s position. I felt a sensation push its way through me!”

“Oui, my King, as if an invisible wall of syrup moved across the fields.”

“
Tee, hee!
Look there, Arthur, my King! Behold, it is Sir Gunther! He is visible once more! T’was no gentle wave for he, my King, forsooth, the black Knight doth be cast to the ground! The armoured war-horse has been knocked onto its haunches! Does this mean that Sir Ichabod has unhorsed, Gunther and thus won the bout?”

“No, my Queen Guenevere, for though placed in a humiliating position and very nearly driven from his horse, Sir Gunther is technically still in the saddle. His seconds now rush forward to get horse and rider back upright.”

“Oui, my King, Sir Gunther now recovers his composure after the concussive blow he has been struck due to his heavy magic suffusion and now wishes more than ever to engage the boy. His terrifying steed is uninjured in the assault. The horse too, wishes for revenge on this unexpected strike, I think, oui?”

“
Tee, hee!
Oh, Arthur, my King, perhaps a few of Sir Gunther’s assistants should help the trio of wizardly folk to their feet from whence they have been cast so unceremoniously upon their own haunches in turn, my lord. Verily, the trio doth appeareth most consternated and bewildered from their seat on the dewed lawns.”

“Ha! That was incredible! Sir Ichabod, what hast happened?”

“Well, sir, Sire, I figured these folks had ‘em some kind of Tom Foolery cookin’ so I thought I’d take the steam out of their shenanigans with an ‘E.M.P.”

“An E.M.P., Sir Ichabod?”

“Yes, Sire,

Ethereal

Magicessation

Pulse.”

“What does this device do, or rather, what has it done?”

“It has temporarily negated any sorcery for over a mile. The effects will wear off, but there ain’t gonna be no magic in this locality today.”

“Rrrroar! I need no magics to defeat thee, little Knight! Release me to kill this insolent swine, my lord!”

“Art thou ready, Sir Ichabod?”

“Let her rip, your Lordship.”

“Engage!”

“They’re off, my King! With reckless abandon doth the two noble Knights charge at one another! Gunther is  heavily armoured and on a titanic steed! One can almost imagine waves of hate emanating from the angry Knight. His twenty foot lance, resting across his strong shield, is aimed unerringly for Ichabod’s excuse of a heart!”

“Oui, I cannot look. Ichabod without so much as a shield to protect him is riding his little pony into suicide. Adieu, Ichabod.”

“Ha! How thrilling! Closer and closer they get! Both horses are running at top speed! Collision is imminent!”

“Ichabod hast turned away at the very last second! Gunther almost toppled from his saddle when contact was naughtte made, so sure was he of his death stroke.”

“They have turned and do charge again! Mon Dieu! Once again, the slippery little Ichabod narrowly beckons his little horse aside at the last possible moment!”

“My King, Gunther is beside himself in rage! He screams and curses at the vexing boy. The pink and lavender clad lad would placate the determined killer, baughtte the more Ichabod attempts to sooth the angry Gunther, the more this Knight of Knevermore grows in ferocity!”

“Ha! Gunther no longer feels bound by the rules of jousting, eh? Look there, he has drawn his sword and now chases after Ichabod. Ha! Ichabod is more easily able to maneuver about Sir Gunther than ever before! The little mare he rides is actually prancing! The little chestnut mare taunts and teases the murderous charger that Gunther rides! Heavy armour binds the great war-horse, where the smaller horse can jump about the larger horse with ease.”

“My King, methinks Sir Ichabod now shows off, doth he naughtte? Looketh on how he makes a sudden pass behind his foe to slap the war-charger on the asses.”

“The animal Gunther rides is equal in rage to its master! It would bite the little horse if it could! He pursues the horse recklessly...Oh! The great charger has stumbled, sending horse and rider tumbling.”

“Yay, I won! I have unhorsed Sir Gunther! You done good, Sir Gunther, put her there, pal.”

“Never! I shall never yield. I challenge that ruling! I contend that this be concluded as a horse error and naughtte the fault of the rider. I submit to King Arthur that I have yet to be vanquished!”

“Ha! I’ll allow it! This shall be recorded for posterity as an error of the horse. You may remount your steed, Sir Gunther.”

“But Sire...”

“Now, Ichabod, I have decided.”

“Yessir.”

“Blast it, quit running around! Fight me, you horrible excuse of a Knight!”

“You’re welcome to give up and concede if you want to, Sir Gunther.”

“Rar! This is naughtte according to custom! King Arthur, make this fool fight me!”

“Come now, Ichabod, thou must do battle with Sir Gunther.”

“Yessir, your Highness, sir. Okey doke, Sir Gunther, you asked for it. Careful what you wish for, biggun.”

“Launcelot, what is it the boy has? What is he doing?”

“T’would appear to be a rope, your Majesty. He hath fashioned a hoop upon one end of this thin braid.”

“Verily, what can the young man do with that bit of thin rope, my king?”

“Ha! Forssoth we shall soon see, Guenevere, for Gunther is re-armed with lance and bears down on a rope armed Sir Ichabod.”

“Oui, the boy charges straight into his opponent with daring I am thinking! He twirls his rope’s hoop above his head. I think he does this in an effort to encourage the rope to expand into an open circle. He and Sir Gunther are about to collide! Ichabod has his horse dodge across the path of Gunther to avoid his lance. Sacre Bleu! Ichabod hath cast his rope to ensnare Sir Gunther! Sir Ichabod’s horse has quickly turned to firmly entrench its hooves to the ground! Sir Ichabod braces himself along with his horse in time as the rope snaps taughtte! Sir Gunther is snatched from his saddle!”

~klang!~

“Ha! Sir Gunther landed flat on his back! He rebounds high into the air to land facefirst in the turf!”

“Has the Great Sir Gunther perished, my King?”

“No Guenevere, I think he is only temporarily dazed from that tremendous initial impact upon Brittanica Firma. Hello, I did naughtte expect this. Sir Ichabod has dismounted and runs to Sir Gunther, no doubt to slit his throat while he has the chance.”

“No my King,  Sir Ichabod grasps a steel shod foot of Sir Gunther and pushes it towards the fallen Knight’s head. He pulls the other foot up and crosses the feet as he rapidly binds them in his rope. Sir Gunther is regaining consciousness. He struggles to make sense of his circumstance. Sir Ichabod has captured one arm and entwines it in his cord, pulling it toward the bound feet. With his one remaining free limb, Gunther attempts to right himself where he finds he has capsized. Ichabod tries to catch his arm in the rope! Sir Gunther desperately tries to keep his remaining arm at liberty and is just able to wriggle out of Ichabod’s cocoon. Ichabod is now trying to get a grasp upon one of Gunther’s fingers. Gunther clutches his fist and holds his arm close to his body in an attempt to protect it from the entangling tentacles of Octobod the Ichapus. Oops, I mean, Ichabod the octopus.”

“Ha! Ichabodopus is pushing up on Gunther’s elbow to force access to the elusive gauntlet. He is quickly wrapping Sir Gunther’s wrist in the cord and with his newfound abundance of leverage, easily pulls this appendage to join its mates.”

“Yes, Arthur, my King! The slender rope granted Ichabod the wherewithal to overcome Gunther’s greater size and strength to secure his last appendage. Once again, with speed and alacrity, the little fellow in pink and lavender has bested his foe.”

“Clear! What’s my time, Miss Stephanie, Ma’am?”

“Eleven seconds, m’lord.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, quite sure. Eleven seconds, m’lord.”

“Enh, I was hoping for better.”

“Did I win?”

“No! Tis be naughtte a proper way to treat a noble Knight! I second Sir Gunther, and I challenge Sir Ichabod!”

“Whatever you say, Sir Brüdskowlle.”

“Ichabod’s quest-wench, Stephanie, has hurried fresh ropes to her champion.”

“Sir Ichabod has ensnared Sir Brüdskowlle’s horse, tumbling both horse and Knight to the ground!”

“Oui, Sir Brüdskowlle, though, refuses to yield, even if unhorsed. The humiliated Knight pulls his sword and invites Sir Ichabod to continue combat.”

“Ha! Ichabod has snagged Brüdi’s leg with his clever rope! He pulls Sir Brüdskowlle off his feet and now tows him behind his horse across the field.”

“Do you surrender, Sir?”

“Never!”

“In that case I’ll throw this rope over this tree branch and get Daisy to haul you up in the air. I’m gonna tie the other end to the tree trunk. Whenever you think you’re ready to surrender, me and Daisy’ll skip right over and let you down. How’s that?”

“Rarrr!”

“I shall second these two great Knights against this upstart knave!”

“Uh, oh, here comes Sir Piddlepants, Miss Daisy, watch out!”

“Verily, my Liege, Sir Piddlepants makes a valiant effort baughtte he too has also succumbed to the rope of Sir Ichabod in the same manner as Sir Gunther.”

“I’m just gonna go ahead and drag this hot-headed Knight into the crick so he can cool off. Anybody else want to have a go?”

“We three Knights shall attack thee en masse!”

“My King, this is unfair! Three Knights charge Ichabod together!”

“Ha! T’is unfair indeed and unworthy of my noble Knights, yet look at our Ichabod. He does naughtte flee, rather he charges to meet this next challenge! What a show of nerve, eh Launcelot?”

“Oui, your Highness, I can only wonder, what can he be thinking. What is this? He has pulled a device from his horses saddle. It appears to be an iron contraption. It has a handle by which Ichabod may grasp it. He holds it away from his body, straight ahead of his stiffened arm. He is aiming it at the three charging Knights.”

~bang!~

“It made a loud noise. Smoke issues from the thing.”

“One of the Knights fell in conjunction with the device’s outburst. It was if some invisible missile went out to drop that man from his saddle.”

~bang!~ ~ bang!~

“The other two Knights have fallen!”

“I reckon Sir Gunther and company have had enough, Sire. Do I win, yet?”

“Ha! So you have, my boy, so you have! I command that no more challenges be made and that Ichabod is officially declared the winner!”

“Hooray!”

“Verily, oh he who art the man, Ichabod, truly, thou hast won the day.”

“Hooray!”

“Ha! Look there! Ichabod dost cause his mount to rear up on her hind legs in a flamboyant sort of celebration and salute! The horse stands and kicks while Ichabod raises his funny little black hat to accept the accolades.”

“What is it he is doing now? He is spinning his length of rope again. He has enlarged the loop to a great degree and twirls it in a vertical manner.”

“Look there, it’s Stephanie, the Quest Wench. She has gathered her skirts in one hand to expose her lovely, bare feet. Now she skips to and fro from one side of Sir Ichabod’s vertical loop of rope to the other through the open hoop! Doing so in a rhythmic and pleasing fashion, holding her opposite hand high, forsooth, she smiles and waves to an appreciative audience.”

“Hooray!”

“Ha! Come forward, Sir Ichabod. Thou hast done well this day!”

“Thank you, your Majesty!”

“Oui, you have done exceedingly well today, Ichabod, baughtte this thunderous device thou wields; didst thou slayeth these three Knights?”

“Oh, no sir. True, this here is a very deadly device, and if the projectile had been made of lead or steel, these men would be grievously injured or even dead. However, I took the precaution of substituting hard-tack bread pellets and salt in place of standard ammunition. I reckon these stricken Knights  will be bruised, but all right.”

“Ha! Incredible! Thou hast defeated a respectable contingent of mighty foes today Sir Ichabod. Thou hast done so and in high fashion yet with respect toward the lives of your fellow man. Let us give three cheers for Ichabod, for it is he who art the man!”

“Hip, hip, hooray!”

“Hip, hip, hooray!”

“Hip, hip, hooray!”

“Thanks, everybody! Golly, I did it, I really did it! I am so happy! Things really worked out for me, I just hope that things work out for you three good folks, Arthur, Guenevere and Launcelot, so y’all can be happy too!”

    .   .   .