The Pitchfork of Destiny

by Jack Heckel

  *Editor’s note: It is generally agreed that the word Tomas used in this exchange was not academic. In fact, friends of the Royal Squire could not be certain that Tomas even knew the word academic. By all accounts, the actual word he used was far more colorful, far more evocative, but, unfortunately, far less printable.

  CHAPTER 7

  MY, WHAT BIG TEETH YOU HAVE

  In fairy tales, danger is almost always foretold, and when misfortune strikes, it comes from the direction you expect. If you’re a princess and get engaged to a frog, then you can’t be surprised when he hops up to your door one day looking to get married. If you’re a pair of starving children wandering through the woods and come upon a delicious house made of all sorts of yummy things, should you really be shocked when you discover that the mad crone who lives inside it likes to eat children? And when you’re a little girl with golden locks wandering through the woods and come upon a cute little cabin with three bowls of porridge and three wooden chairs and three comfy beds, and you decide to take advantage of this uninvited hospitality, you should hardly be taken aback when the owners return and are a trifle miffed.

  However, Elle was completely unaware that the cave that served as her prison previously had been the home of a family of bears. If she had known, she would have slept far less soundly, despite the presence of a lovely, four-­poster bed. She would have been even more nervous had she known that the pile of furs and odds and ends of splintered wood that the dragon used as his bed represented the entirety of the previous inhabitants’ earthly possessions. And she would have been positively terrified to know that the bears were only one ridgeline away, spending their considerable free time pondering their revenge and whether they would ever be able to get the dragon smell out of their cave.

  Beo the wolf, on the other hand, was keenly aware of all these facts. Being a practical wolf, he was growing tired of the endless tasks he was being required to perform to please Elle. He was losing any benefit that he had gained from the dragon. In fact, he was working far harder than hunting had required, and his ribs were beginning to show again. His growing emaciation led him to one conclusion: Elle must die. When she did, the dragon would give up his quest and let Beo free from his contract. The tricky part was that Beo couldn’t be implicated in Elle’s death, or he would surely be roasted, eaten, or both.

  He had initially tried to be subtle. He reasoned that if she committed suicide to save her love (which seemed the sort of ridiculous thing humans did), the dragon couldn’t possibly blame him. First, he left a rope next to her bed, then some deadly hemlock tea, and, finally, a sharp knife, hoping that she would take the hint. However, the woman clung to hope, believing that she would be rescued or that her Will (Beo was so tired of hearing her whisper that name) would find a way to save her. It was very disappointing.

  Something more “proactive” would clearly have to be done. He had been pondering for a ­couple of days now on how he could effect her death without actually risking his own hide. That was when he struck on the idea of using the bears.

  After Volthraxus had flown off on his latest hunt, and Elle had fallen asleep in her comfy bed, Beo slunk out of the cave. Making use of his superb nose and their awful smell, he easily tracked down the three mightily grumpy bears, two males and a female, huddled together in a shallow, uncomfortable depression on the side of a hill.

  Beo studied them from behind a large fir tree as he considered how he was going to convince them to kill Elle. They shouldn’t have any trouble with the physical part of the job he thought. Each of them looked like a furry boulder with claws and teeth, one large, one exceedingly large, and one absurdly large. Any one of them could easily make a meal of the woman, or more accurately a light repast, but Beo had to be sure that they would not add a side of wolf to the feast. Wolves and bears did not always get along as they often competed for the same prey, notably children—­hopefully juicy girls—­who had lost themselves in the woods.

  After watching for a time, during which the three bears did little more than snore heavily, shuffle about uncomfortably, and scratch themselves with their knifelike claws, Beo came to a few conclusions. First, the bears were really really big. Second, they would be unhappy at being woken up. He recalled that they had been a bit groggy when the dragon evicted them. Beo believed that the dragon had turned them out of their cave before the bears had, strictly speaking, finished hibernating. The last thing he realized was that while he knew these bears were more intelligent than your average bears—­and certainly more verbal—­they were still bears and not known for their wits. If he were not properly direct in explaining the plan, the entire scheme would likely fly over their heads.

  Right, so I’ll be direct, he thought. He stepped out from behind his tree and cleared his throat rather loudly.

  “Hmmm.”

  The smallest of the large bears rolled over and snorted. Otherwise, there was no reaction.

  “Hmmm.” He cleared his throat again a bit louder and added even louder still, “My dear bears!”

  This time, the absurdly large one (as opposed to the large and exceedingly large ones) sat up with a jolt and opened his eyes, but only for a second. Then, his body fell forward, and, chin on ground, he began to snore again.

  Beo took a few more cautious steps forward until he was sitting directly in front of the absurdly large bear’s nose but out of claw reach. Putting a paw to his muzzle, he veritably shouted, “My dear bears, I have a proposition!”

  Three roars echoed through the night. He had awoken the bears. All three jumped to their feet, teeth bared and claws extended, growling growls with varying depths of ferocity. They were all staring hard at him.

  The largest of them said very deeply, “Wass all this then?”

  The second largest said only slightly less deeply, “Yea’ wass the idea?”

  The third said a little less deeply still, “Waking us up like that?”

  Without waiting for an answer they then asked in varying degrees of pitch and wording, “Who are you anyway?”

  The wolf had anticipated this question and so had a ready answer, but he shifted slightly back so that he could immediately spring away. “I am the dragon’s wolf?” he said as though it were a question.

  His anticipation of violence was prescient as the biggest bear took an absurdly large-­sized swipe at him, the slightly less big bear took an exceedingly large-­sized bite at him, and the still even less large bear attempted to put him into a simply large-­sized, but still undeniably fatal, bear hug. Beo leapt backwards and danced away from his attackers.

  “Let’s not be too hasty. You haven’t heard my proposition yet.”

  “Why should we listen to you? You and dat beasty frew us right outta our hawse!” roared the absurdly large bear in an absurdly large voice.

  “Yea, and now we’ve gotta live here in a hole!” roared the exceedingly large bear in an exceedingly large voice.

  “And the least ya could do ta make it up is ta let us eat ya!” roared the simply large bear in a still-­quite-­deafening voice.

  “Well, if I did that, then I couldn’t tell you about the proposition,” the wolf replied. He wondered if he hadn’t been terribly naïve to think that he could reason with bears.

  “We don’t give a fig about no propy—­propysotioun,” the largest bear said, trying to circle around behind the wolf in a large-­sized circle.

  “ ’E’s right. Why should we care about your propulozytion?” asked the larger bear trying to circle around behind the wolf in a middle-­sized circle.

  “This propo—­what’s it, can you eat it?” asked the large bear as he tried to circle around behind the wolf in a little-­sized circle but tripped over his own feet and sprawled onto his backside instead.

  The other large bears were interested enough in the answer to the littlest of the large bear’s question that they hesitated in their attacks. Be
o saw an opening, and he raced past them and jumped up onto a boulder. “Yes, of course you can eat it, my friends.”

  “Right, less hear da propy—­propy—­the deal,” said the absurdly large bear, sitting down on his absurdly large backside.

  “Yeah, we’re listenin’, ” said the exceedingly large bear, sitting down on her exceedingly large backside.

  “But, if we don’ like wha’ we ’ear, we’re gonna eat you instead,” said the simply large bear, finally getting back up off of his simply large backside.

  “Sounds more than reasonable,” the wolf drawled as he sat down on the boulder and spread his front paws wide in a gesture of acceptance. “Let me start by saying that I never wanted to drive you out of your comfy cave in the first place. The dragon was quite unreasonable on the point, and as you have no doubt observed, the dragon can be quite violently persuasive when he wants to be.”

  “Yeah,” all three bears replied at once, and each pawed at an appropriately sized patch of singed fur somewhere on their bodies.

  “Well, I’m going to tell you why the dragon is here and what you can do to make him go away—­permanently.”

  “We’re listenin’, ” the absurdly large bear said, running his absurdly large tongue over his absurdly large snout.

  “All ears,” the exceedingly large bear said as she scratched at an itch on her back with a claw that would only be considered middling by comparison to a battle-­axe.

  “And teeth,” the simply large bear said, eyeing him largely like he was trying to decide which bit of the wolf he would like to eat first.

  “There can be no doubt of that,” the wolf said, backing further away from the littlest of the large bears, who, he had decided, was either the most pathological or the hungriest of the bears. Although, he thought, with bears the two may be the same.

  Despite his continued misgivings about whether he could trust the bears, the wolf was feeling more confident than ever. He had managed to avoid being killed outright, and he had convinced them to listen. All he had to do now was sell them on the plan, and selling things was what the wolf did best. He drew himself up on his hind legs and began to spin his yarn.

  “There can be no doubt that you have been wronged,” the wolf said to general grumbles and growls of profane agreement, the level of profanity seeming to correspond inversely to the size of the bear. “What you all do not know is that the cause is not the dragon himself but the dragon’s guest.”

  “ ’E’s brought a pest into our cave?” asked the absurdly large bear with a large amount of shock.

  “It’s a bloody outrage!” said the exceedingly large bear with a moderate amount of shock.

  “Bedbugs, I knew it,” grumbled the simply large bear with no shock at all. “Dragons are filthy beasts.”

  The wolf slapped a paw to his forehead in frustration. “Not pest, you damned—­I mean,” he amended hastily, “dear bears. He has a guest, with a ‘G.’ ”

  The bears all looked at him with varying amounts of confusion, from puzzled to baffled to utterly clueless.

  Be patient and be direct! Beo counseled himself silently. He took a deep breath and said, “I mean, there is someone else in your cave with him, and she is the reason he is living there.”

  “Right,” said the absurdly large bear with little comprehension.

  “Someone else,” said the exceedingly large bear with only moderately more comprehension.

  “Bloody hell,” the simply large bear said with so much comprehension that he invented his own facts. “Wif two dragons in dere, we’ll never get our cave back.”

  “Ahhh,” purred the wolf, “but there is the delicious irony. His guest isn’t a dragon at all, but is a helpless, and, might I add, delectable, young woman.” He emphasized the delectability of Elle by running his long tongue suggestively back and forth over his whiskers.

  “What, a girl?” the absurdly large bear asked with a large rumble of his stomach.

  “A lass, you say?” the exceedingly large bear asked with a medium smack of her lips.

  “Yummy, a delectablized girl and a delishikous imony!” The simply large bear shouted with a little twinkle in his eye that was distinctly disturbing.

  “Ummm, more or less,” the wolf said. “So, now you see my proposition. You go and eat the girl, then the dragon will have no reason to stay in your cave. Simple.”

  “Yeah, simple!” said the absurdly large bear with a great deal of enthusiasm.

  “But, what do we do about the delicioumus irony?” asked the exceedingly large bear, still moderately confused.

  “Forget the imony, what do we do about the dragon?” asked the simply large bear with more than a little skepticism.

  Beo assumed an innocent pose, which is inherently difficult for a wolf, and replied, “Oh, didn’t I mention, the dragon is gone. There is no one currently guarding the lady in question. Just a short stroll over the ridge, and she is yours.”

  The largest one looked at the wolf for a long second, and asked, “But wha’ if da dragon comes back while we’re at it?”

  Beo was not concerned in the slightest that Volthraxus might return. It would take the bears no time at all to deal with the girl. Still, he made a point of looking up at the moon as though considering. “He will be gone for hours still, more than enough time to dine as long as you don’t linger.”

  The middle large one looked at the wolf for a medium second, and asked, “Wha’ if da dragon don’t leave after we et’ her?”

  Beo was surprised at such a perceptive question. He understood why the bears cared, but the answer didn’t really matter to him. He would be rid of Elle. “That I can all but guarantee,” he lied. “The dragon will be gone before morning, and if he is not you are no worse off and considerably better fed.”

  The little large one looked at the wolf for less than a second, and asked, “Wha’ stops you from tellin’ the dragon it was us an’ settin’ him ta eatin’ us?”

  This, in the wolf’s opinion, should have been the bears’ only question. Indeed, fear of the dragon’s wrath was the reason Beo wouldn’t devour the woman himself. He intended to play dead as long as necessary and hope that the bears would give Volthraxus enough victims if he wanted to seek retribution for the loss of his pretty little plaything. “I am supposed to be guarding the girl. If he will be angry with anyone, it will be with me. Do you think I am going to wait around and risk his wrath?”

  The bears pondered this point ponderously as bears will do. Beo, however, was beginning to feel anxious. He would never have admitted it to the bears, but he had no idea how long Volthraxus would be gone, and if the bears were going to make an attack, he didn’t want to be anywhere nearby. He decided to bring the debate to a close.

  “My dear bears, while we argue and debate, the moon passes overhead.” He swept a paw eloquently up to point at the shining orb. “The dragon will return. Will you take this opportunity to fatten your bellies and reclaim your home?” He pointed a paw dramatically back in the direction of the cave. “Or will you remain here in this miserable condition?”

  Watching the reaction of the bears, it was not clear to Beo whether the idea of getting their cave back, or being happily stuffed, or not wanting to return to the cold little hole they’d been sleeping in made the decision for them, but whatever it was, the three seemed to come to a mutual, unspoken agreement. The absurdly large bear ambled off toward the cave with his large strides, the exceedingly large bear ambled off in the direction of the cave with her medium strides, and the simply large bear ambled off in the direction of the cave with his little strides.

  As they crested the ridge, the little large bear called out, “I call dibs on da delicimous imony.”

  Beo shook his head muttering, “Irony . . . irony.”

  He loped off southward, where rumor had it that a lot of ­people were on the move, running from the dragon.
Beo knew that where ­people were on the road, there would be children, wandering and willful children, that an enterprising wolf might be able to make a meal of. He licked his lips, only regretting that he wouldn’t get to hear Elle scream.

  As he ran south, the bears returned to their cave. They found their home much changed. Gone were their stores of honey and berries and lovely, crunchy fish bones, and instead there stood a long, polished, wood dining table set with fine china, sparkling crystal, and gleaming silver. The largest bear sniffed at the remains of Elle’s meal and, with a swipe of his paw, scooped an entire flower-­patterned plate into his mouth and crunched it between his teeth.

  Between bites of splintered china, he said in a deep, gruff voice, “Someone’s been eatin’ in my cave, and it’s scrumptimous though a bit sharp.”

  The middle-­large bear was poking around at the pile of furs that had previously been their beds and the dragon had confiscated as his own. She scrunched up her middle-­sized nose in distaste. “Someone’s been sittin’ on my seat, and now it reeks of dragon.”

  The littlest large bear had gone straight to the large four-­poster bed where Elle lay in a slumber of exhaustion. He peered under the covers and grinned a greedy little grin. “Someone’s brought us a proper bed, an she’s been good ’nough to stick about as a snack.”

  The other bears shuffled over at this, the largest still slowly grinding at a crystal goblet and the middle one still rubbing at her nose to get the smell out. Elle awoke with the three bears staring down at her with greed and hunger in their large-­, middle-­ and small-­sized eyes. Naturally, she screamed.

  “It’s jus’ like da wolf promised,” said the absurdly large bear with a smile that showed off his absurdly large teeth.

  “Right down ta da delectablized squeal o’ fear,” said the exceedingly large bear with a grin that displayed her enormously large teeth.

  “But, I don’t see no delicimous imony,” the simply large bear said, pawing through the covers and peering under the bed with a frown that mostly hid his large-­by-­any-­other-­measure teeth.