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

BOOK: The Title of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 8)
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~gulp~
“I reckon the steamer’s ready. We better be going.”

“As thou wishes, m’lord.”

 

 

 

“We’re coming up on some buildings. Let’s see if we can’t get some food for us and coal for Miss Beemer.”

“Truly we are blessed with the riches of your depth-less wisdoms, m’lord.”

“Howdy, y’all, don’t be scared of our steamer, it ain’t as dangerous as it appears.”

“Pray, how may we serve thee, good Knight?”

“I reckon you could serve us up some food if you got any.”

“Of course! Let us feed these noble people!”

“Gee thanks, y’all. You ain’t got to be that generous, it don’t look like you got that much to spare.”

“T’is true good Knight, we have little to spare for we are sorely taxed by cruel nobility.”

“Then why do you take it? Don’t you outnumber them?”

“They are of noble stock; we are naughtte. That is the way of things.”

“Gee, that’s too bad. Well, we gotta be on our way. How much do we owe you for the food and coal?”

“‘Owe’ us, m’lord?”

“Yessir, we want to pay for the food and coal.”

“‘Pay’ us, m’lord.”

“You know, how much money should I give you. I know that a little money goes a long way in these days. How about I give you a nice, brand new penny?”

~tink~

“What’s the matter? All of your expressions are showing shock and amazement. Did I do something wrong? I reckon I have insulted you by offering too little. Here are two more pennies.”

~tink, tink~

“Oh my Goodness, your expressions of shock and amazement have now turned to mad terror! I reckon I have really done it and have severely insulted all you fine folks. Here you go, if that ain’t enough, I’ll give you...”

“Stop, Sir Ichabod! Art thou mad! This is more treasure than these people have ever seen! They have never seen a whole penny much less a new one, and to see three such unknown riches in one viewing is more than these simple folk can bear!”

“Oh, okay, well, I’ll just pick up two and leave just one, will that be alright?”

“That will be more than adequate, Sir Ichabod.”


Eek!
” “Run!” “It art the great wizard of Camelot!”

“We are doomed!” “Ichabod who art the man!”

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!

“Thy reputation precedeth thee, oh Ichabod who art the man.”

“Verily, I reckon so, Miss Stephanie. Say, lookey there! That is a really nice statue we are passing as we leave town! Well, it ain’t really such a nice statue, is it? It is a life-size statue of a man, running. The look of terror on his stony face is rather disconcerting, ain’t it? Hunh, that’s odd. The sculptor built his artifact without a base. It is just free standing. Ain’t it amazing the lifelike realism the artist was able to recreate? It is as if this poor man were turned to stone while he was running for his life.”

“That is no statue, Sir Ichabod. That is a man that has been turned to stone by cruel and evil magic. Behold, good Knight, we stand before the castle of the sinister sorceress,

Morgana Le Meerrin!”

Chapter 10
Mistress Morgana Le Meerrin

“Oh my Goodness, what a scary castle! I never saw actual black stone like that before. Is it just me, or does the arch of the entry gate remind you of a frowny mouth? Especially with the teeth-motif portcullis. The crenelations of the battlements and highlights of strategically placed, flickering torches convey the eerie impression of a disapproving skull surveying us.”

“Forsooth thine observations are true m’lord. Bumps, as one may see upon the freshly plucked skin of a goose rise on my arms as the hollow orbs seemeth watch our trepid approach.”

~gulp~
“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Stephanie, Ma’am. Why are we even here? You said this was the castle of an evil sorceress! We’re questing ogres, remember?”

“Aye, but t’is on the way.”

“Can’t we just go around?”

“Nay t’is naughtte proper noble Knight fashion, m’lord.”

“But she does real magic! She can turn men to stone!”

“You too are a great wizard, Ichabod. Remember, thou art the man.”

“But,...”

“It is the way, Sir Ichabod. Now go and make challenge.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

chug-chug-chug-chug-chug-chug-chug-chug

~Toot! Toot!~

“Hello? Anybody home? Well I reckon not. We tried Miss...”

“Arr, who be this, friend or foe? Arr.”

“Howdy, mister! We ain’t foes, we’re friends! We’re
real
friendly. We were in the neighbourhood and thought we’d stop in and pay our respects to the resident evil, oops, I mean, kind sorceress, Morgana Le Meerrin, but if she don’t want to be disturbed, that’s okay, we’ll just...”

“Stand by, he who claims friendship with the Mistress of Castle HamSpanx, we are lowering the drawbridge to allow your strange carriage entrance.”

~errr-r-r-r-r,
kunck!
kuh, kuh,
kuh
-
~

chug-chug-chug-chug-chug-chug-chug-chug

“Stop there. This page boy will escort you to our Mistress.”

“Thank you, sir. Hunh? I don’t believe it! It’s our buddy Spyke! What are you doing down here in Castle HamSpanx?”

“Wot, who, me? My name’s naughtte Spyke, it’s Slyck. You must have me confused with my cousin wot works up in Camelot, what’s name be Spyke.”

“Dang, y’all favour something fierce, buddy.”

“Everybody says so, if naughtte in those words, m’lord. Cometh with me, please. Hmmm, I’ve worked here for several years now, but I still get lost in this gloomy maze once in a nonce. Let’s see, methinks we want this long, spooky passage down here. Ah, yes, here we are, I’m sure these huge double doors, braced by heavy timber, generously adorned with metal studs and stoutly bound by iron hardware that could just as well hinge a door thirty times this size lead to the room where her majesty awaits.”

“Should we knock, Slyck?”

“I don’t know, as I am suddenly filled with a nameless sense of dread that clutches my heart in an icy grip of unspeakable fear.”

“Um, yeah, me too, pard.”

“I sayeth, please excuse me gentlemen and allow me to open the door.”

~eeeerrrrrk~

“Maybe she’s already gone to bed, Spyke.”

“Yeah, Icky, maybe we should all just leave.”

“I proclaimeth, a Knight of King Arthur’s Round Table calls upon the Mistress of this Dark Castle! Show yourself, Sorceress!”

“Shh! Quiet, Miss Stephanie, she’ll hear you! Oops! I mean, we don’t want to come off as pushy. Besides, it looks like there ain’t nobody around, no how.”

“Eh hem, Sir Ichabod, thou must now walk forward into the chamber.”

~gulp~
“Yes, Ma’am, if I gotta.”

clank. klinckety-clankclankclank, kink!


Eek!
Run, y’all! It’s a giant! It’s gonna gobble us up!”

“Nay, Sir Ichabod, t’is baughtte a great stone monument carved into the grinning image of a human skull. The twenty foot granite bit of tackiness rests on a high pedestal. Methinks it most theatric the way the looming skull glows with the fiery intensity of a huge, roaring fire on the opposite side.”

“It’s got big ram horns!”

“I did mention I thought the thing tacky.”

“Oh, it sure is quiet in this spooky place, Ma’am.”

“T’is quiet, aye, too quiet, methinks.”

Castle HamSpanx has visitors,

claiming both friendship and nobility!

As I am the Grand Inquisitor,

I would look upon such a novelty.

“That was a sure ‘nough scary sounding woman’s voice coming from the other side of this big scary rock statue and echoing around this massive room. Uh, oh, Miss Stephanie, this here horny skull monument is turning!”

“I sayeth, thou art correct m’lord, for as the turnstyle now presents the opposite side of yon spinning stone, lo, it reveals itself to be a carved throne! Halfway up, a seat is quarried that this castle’s Queen may sit.”

“I prefer ‘Mistress’, to ‘Queen’, girl.”

“Howdy Miss Mistress Morgana Le Meerrin, Ma’am. My Goodness, you sure do look regal, as you sit there, back straight, chin high and eyes a-glare.”

“The product of proper breeding.”

“Yes, Ma’am. My name is...”

“It matters naughtte what your name is! It is plainly written upon your appearances what you are! Obviously, you are a questing Knight, and this girl, his quest-maiden. Strange, I sense that unlike so many of the wenches that accompany the Knights that fall into my clutches, eh, come to visit, this girl is of noble rank. The lineage of this paltry Knight though is of extreme question. The runt is plainly as plain as dirt from the plains. My supernatural senses are never wrong and I can easily tell that this one is uncommonly common. Nevertheless, this creature is clearly, legitimately, Knighted. Speak, boy, art thou truly of King Arthur’s Court?”

“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Mistress Morgana Le Meerrin, Ma’am.”

“Alas, the King’s standards are slipping. This is a sign that it is time to set the coup in motion.”

“Do you mean ‘coo’, like a pigeon?”

“No, I mean coup as in coup d’etat, which means, oh never mind, it doesn’t concern you anyway. Come, you intrigue me, my low-born Knight. Pickings have been slim lately. Perhaps I’ll go slumming, just this once. You may accompany me to dinner.”

“Gee whiz, thanks, Ma’am, I’m always hungry!”

“Come, my errant Knight.”

“Golly Miss Mistress Morgana le Meerrin, Ma’am, that sure ‘nough is a form fitting gown you’re a wearing! I didn’t know dresses could fit that tight! I reckon there ain’t nothing inappropriate to it since it covers every inch of your body from the cuffs of your sleeves to the oval of space surrounding your bemused facial features, but at the same time the clingy, shiny black fabric clearly shows off your fearsome form with every gliding, sensual step you take as you descend your monster rock throne.”

“Yes, it does. You are so observant to notice, my pet. I invite you to follow me to the dining hall.”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

“Eh hem, I sayeth, m’lord, but thou art keenly aware of the swaying of this keep’s Mistress’s hips, art thou naughtte, for merry, you have been, and remain, as transfixed upon the gentle rolling swells of our hostess’ generous, shapely bum as she leads us through dank corridor and up stony stair what so that made your observational captivity oh so much easier, eh hem, lo the past three minutes!”

“Hunh?”

“Here we are, my little Knight. Oh, you, the quest-wench. I didn’t notice that
you
were tagging along. You are free to leave, little bird.”

“Hunh? Hey! Miss Stephanie is staying right here with us!”

~sigh~
“Don’t get excited, my child. Very well, she may stay, as long as she remains silent.”

“Thanks, Miss Mistress Morgana Le Meerrin, Ma’am. Um, we’ve been having some nice weather lately, ain’t we, hunh?”

“I am naughtte one that is concerned with the weather. I want wine! Slyck, where dost thou hide? Bring me my wine!”

“Eek! Yes, my Mistress! Here I am! Now then, here’s glasses all around. And now I shall carefully pull the cork from the bottle.”
~courck!~
“and now I shall carefully pour a glass for our visiting Knight...”

~SMASH!~
“You imbecile! I am the Mistress of this castle! I am always seen to first!”

“Hey, easy there. There ain’t no need to go swiping that there bottle out of this boy’s hands to smash on the floor like that! It was a simple error in judgment!”


SILENCE!
I shall dispatch this worthless knave and send for a replacement.”

“Now, there ain’t no need to fire this young man.”

“When I said ‘dispatch’, I did not intend dismissing him from his place of employment.”

“Oh, you meant you were going to kill him. Oh! You meant you were going to kill him!”

“It is actually a fortunate occasion. I have a brand new  poison-injecting finger-cap thimble needle that I have been eager to try out. The finely crafted silver piece...”

“Looks like pewter to me, Ma’am.”

“Shut your filthy mouth; it’s silver! Anyway, it fits over my middle finger like this. I now insert the needle into this handy poison reservoir that lies within a secret compartment on a ring upon the finger of my opposite hand to load up the killing device.”

“Oh my Goodness, Miss Stephanie, Mistress Morgana Le Meerrin is gonna slay poor little ol’ Spyke, I mean, Slyck! What are we gonna do?”

“Ah, the needle is loaded and all that remains is for me to plunge the poison filled needle of painful death into the offending parties neck thusly...”


Freeze,
right where you are, Morgana Le Meerrin! If you move one more inch, ruin and damnation shall pour down out of the Heavens in such a reign of righteous punishment that you will be pummeled right down to the deepest bowels of this Earth to burn for all eternity! Do you naughtte know what terrible being you have allowed into your keep? Foolish woman! This is the great magician that blotted out the Sun, even while he burned alive! The Sun burns only by his tender mercy and only by same does it yet shine. This is the great sorcerer that accepted a challenge from none other than the Great Merlin! The skies poured out a torrent of lightning such as has never been seen! This man took all the terrible magics that wizard could summon and laughed! Then he sent Merlin’s keep to melt into the Earth and will be there waiting for you in Hades when you arrive! This is the undefeated champion wizard of Camelot! He rides a chariot that is blown along its path by the fiery breath of the dragon itself! This be the man that
art
the man! Bow down and beg for mercy! Tremble with fear in your final folly! This be
Ichabod!

“Eek!”

“On your knees, cursed she-beast! If thou even thinkest of harming this page, the Great Ichabod will turn you into a toad, foul sorceress! You will spend your days living in the moat, a bloated, croaking, amphibian Queen!”

“Eek!
Mercy, Ichabod!”

“Hunh? Oh, I mean, yeah, all that kind of terrible stuff is going to happen you if don’t quit acting like you’re going to kill Slyck! You need to quit playing around and start behaving yourself, Ma’am!”

“Eek!
Oh, I am so sorry, oh mighty Ichabod who art the man! Forgive me, I mean, er, I was just kidding, right? Ha, ha, we kid around like that all the time around here, don’t we Slyck?”

“Uhhh.”

“See? No harm done, oh great wizard. I’ll just give him an affectionate pat on the head and a playful swat on the rump to send him off to bed, yes?”

“Well, I reckon everything is all right now.”

“This is good, my honoured guest. Please be at ease, m’lord. I bid that thee now spend the night, in Castle HamSpanx, oh Ichabod who art the man. It is my wish to make your stay as
comfortable
as possible.”

 

-
 
 
-
 
 
-

 

“Hear my voice, Ichabod.”

“Smell my scents, Ichabod.”

“Feel my touch, Ichabod.”

“Hunh?”

“Awaken, my little man, it is I, your Mistress Morgana. Awaken Ichabod, that I may lie close with thee.”

“Hunh?! Oh my Goodness! Did I get your bed by mistake, Miss Morgana, Ma’am? I’m as sorry as I can be! I thought sure this here sumptuous boudoir was indicated for me to use, but if I got it wrong...”


Silence!
Oops, I mean, quiet my young boy. Be soothed, my pet. Lie easy, my Ichabod.”

“Gee, Miss Morgana...”

“Mistress!”

“Oops! Yes, Ma’am, Miss Mistress Morgana, Ma’am! Um, gee, Miss Mistress Morgana, Ma’am, I never suspected that you were really a blond. The gown that you wore earlier hid your hair and your many other charms. Your long blond hair that is at first pulled back from your stern face with a small bit of black material then cascades around your bare shoulders like a yellow curtain of containment. Where the other dress was of a solid material, this here negligee is made of a sheer, black nothingness, except for where it covers the most sensitive areas. You know, I suspected you were a full figured gal, but from where I am, lying in bed with you straddling me, sitting back on your haunches, I can tell, you really do have an admirable figure, Ma’am.”

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