by Joanne Durda
The Thorn Warriors were ready and waiting for their opponents. Pentangle gave the order to march towards them, which they did at once without hesitation.
A battle ensued with the Willow Warriors and male villagers trying to desperately hack the Thorn Warriors to pieces with their swords, hatchets, knives and hammers. Then there were the other villagers trying to beat them down to rubble with the pots and pans. The noise from this battle was deafening to the eardrums. The thick, monstrous thorns only dented the pots and pans. The Thorn Warriors wielded their arms and bodies, just as Savagio had taught them to, with deadly momentum, easily slashing at and goring their opponents. It was then made apparent to all at how powerful the Thorn Warriors were against the defenders of the Ladybug Castle.
Ushi’s eyes panned the area and saw how his Willow Warriors and the male villagers were bleeding immensely from their deep wounds and gashes caused by the brutality of the thorns. The ground was turning into a slick, bloody battlefield, but his Willow Warriors and the villagers would not give in. Some of the Thorn Warriors were hacked or beaten down to broken sticks, but his Willow Warriors were taking the brunt of the fight. Ushi also noticed that Niciu was bleeding in certain areas, due to his striking out with his legs, which were being slashed repeatedly by the Thorn Warriors. “The men and horses cannot take much more of this. I will have to call them back,” Ushi hopelessly summed up.
Ushi rode through the battlefield calling out to his men to fall back. They immediately obeyed, knowing they were being slowly butchered.
“Retreat! Retreat! Retreat back to the castle!” Ushi called out.
The men and horses retreated back to the safety of the castle and its grounds. Most were hurt and injured, bleeding heavily, with some limping and in dreadful pain from their deep wounds and gashes.
Most of the Monks watched with smirks on their faces, both during the battle and at the retreat. They knew victory was already theirs. But first, they would have to climb the mountain of stubbornness which laid before them. Some of the Monks were not smiling but frowning, as they felt a peculiar unpleasantness that they had never felt before creeping up their spines into the core of their very souls. They were not raised or brought up to slaughter men or animals to gain wealth or fortune. Their wealth lay in their talents for sorcery and magic – good or evil. Never had any of them been known to bring such horrific havoc to any kingdom. Some, like Octagon, Imbecile, Onion, Alme, Meek and others, were shamed by what was taking place at their own hands with their own army. This was not the methodical conduct becoming of a Monk. Monks were raised and trained to heal and protect, not to create violence of their own doing. Some looked downwards at their medallions in shame, while others carried on, following their leader. A few, like Pentangle, Ebrix, Xnug and some of the others, wanted the thrill of victory, not wanting to experience the agony of defeat.
Theo snickered sinisterly. “Call back the thorns. Let us see if the castle surrenders,” he ordered Pentangle and Xnug.
“They are wise enough to see that they cannot slaughter our thorns,” Meek remarked quietly, feeling somewhat ashamed.
“If they do not surrender by morning, we’ll storm the castle and take it by force,” Theo informed the Monks.
Some of the Monks cringed at Theo’s words, but knew they did not dare question them. The blood was already on their hands, and their hearts were stained deep inside. The thrill of the kill was pulsating deep within Theo’s heart, which was slowly turning to stone, unbeknownst to all present.
Alme spoke out, “Maybe we can just coerce them into surrendering without another fight.”
“Bah!” a maddened Theo exclaimed.
“Maybe I should have our thorns slash some of their women and children. That will end this senseless struggle for good,” Pentangle remarked. “We are wasting our time with the lot of them!”
Theo smiled wickedly. Some of the Monks retreated at Pentangle’s words, not wanting to be a part of this onslaught anymore.
Imbecile began to hyperventilate. Octagon put his arm around the fool and walked him to his tent, which he shared with him. “Come, Imbecile, it is time for you to lie down. This is too much stress for you to endure,” Octagon told him, with other unspoken reasons for taking cover inside their tent taking shape within his mind.
“You are too kind to that half-brain,” Theo remarked with contempt to Octagon.
“We should end his misery and put him to rest,” Ebrix quietly remarked to Theo.
Octagon overheard the remark and replied coldly, “I think not! Remember, he is our Brother.”
Octagon gave them all a dark look before he turned and continued to escort Imbecile back to their own tent. Octagon’s tent was like an ancient nomad’s tent. Many colorful rugs and blankets were strewn about, and lay over the floor and walls and draped from the ceiling. It was warm, quiet and peaceful. He had a strong, herbal incense burning – one to meditate by. Many candles were lit for inviting warmth, comfort and security. His tent was soothing to a troubled mind. Octagon set Imbecile down on a heavy rug in the center of their tent. He looked into Imbecile’s eyes and told him, “Imbecile, only you can leave unnoticed.”
“W-w-what you m-m-mean, B-B-Brother?”
“You must ride and inform Savagio what has happened here and what is about to take place.”
“One w-w-warrior a-a-against an a-a-army of t-t-thorns?”
“Trust me, he will know what to do. Ushi needs him. They need each other,” a wise Octagon remarked.
Imbecile sniffled. “B-b-but I d-d-don’t want S-S-Savagio t-t-to die. I-I-I like h-h-him.”
“I admire him, also. He will not die. He has many adventures waiting for him. You have my word.”
Imbecile continued to hyperventilate. “B-b-but what if I should get l-l-lost? Y-y-you know I-I-I am afraid of the d-d-dark!”
Octagon rose and took out a pouch from his corner of the blankets. He opened it and put his hands inside the pouch and took out some white powder, which he then rubbed on Imbecile’s eyes.
“It b-b-burns!” Imbecile exclaimed.
“It will only burn for a moment. Let it. You will see only light. This light will guide you to Savagio. You must never close your eyes,” Octagon told him.
“W-w-what is this powder?”
“Something that I had vamped up for myself – so that I could see in the dark, when need be.”
“S-s-so t-t-that is w-w-why you ride out at night a-a-alone? D-d-does T-T-Theo know of this white p-p-powder?”
“No one knows. It’s a concoction brought together from various bright magical stones found only in the Kingdom of Marble.”
Imbecile gasped. “M-m-magical stones? H-h-how do you know?”
“There lie many secrets from our ancestors beneath the Thorn Castle. Only I, and I alone, have taken the time to explore what lies beneath us Monks. What I have found is far beyond the power of the limited knowledge that we keep locked up inside the cellar. It is best that no other knows of this. You see, Imbecile, I have elevated myself to a supreme, higher level of power than Theo could ever have done. He would demand all, and you and I both know how dangerous that could be for the Domain right now.”
“S-s-so that is w-w-why you ride alone all the time?”
“Yes, Imbecile. I go and collect the secrets to the revered ingredients that I concoct alone and put to use for myself. I have many secrets. And many mysteries are hidden within the deep recesses and folds of my heart.
“I-I-I w-w-will keep your s-s-secrets.” Imbecile wandered into deep thought while Octagon gathered Imbecile’s black-hooded woolen cape for warmth. He put it around the fool’s shoulders, getting him ready for the most needed ride.
“W-w-will my eyes c-c-close by themselves?”
“Only if you let them,” Octagon firmly told him.
The anxiety about the long ride alone ahead of him made Imbecile start to hyperventilate again. Octagon put his arm around Imbecile.
“I am more powerful than my Bro
ther – Theo. He cannot know, or he will have me killed. Theo’s weakness is his inner fear of being taken down by his own kind. I am the one to do so.”
Imbecile wailed, “B-b-but I am afraid of the d-d-dark!”
“Listen to me, Imbecile. There will be no darkness, only light. Look into my eyes, Imbecile, I will give you my courage. But, as soon as you come back, I will need my courage back.” Octagon was not afraid to give Imbecile his spirit and leave himself weak and vulnerable. He would deal with his weakness and vulnerability by hiding himself inside his own tent, wrapped inside his blankets for comfort. This he must do because this ride was far more important than he, and had to be. He knew Imbecile was more than feeble and so much fearful of his own shadow and of being alone. So Octagon, being the true ancient Monk that he was, gave Imbecile his mental strength to make that ride, alone, and without panic setting in.
“I d-d-don’t know w-w-what to do w-w-with courage…”
Octagon ignored Imbecile’s words and looked deeply into his eyes. “Straighten up, Imbecile, and look deep into the recesses of my eyes.”
Imbecile straightened up. The tent was filled with silence for a few moments as Octagon continued to give to Imbecile his courage. It took time, since Imbecile fought the power of his powerful, hypnotic trance. Octagon was amazed that Imbecile could fight his power. Deep inside, Imbecile was truly an ancient Monk, Octagon thought to himself. Octagon, being the stronger of the two, soon overcame Imbecile’s power of mind and eyesight. Imbecile began to feel the strength enter and take over his whole being. A powerful inner self that he had never felt before crept into his very being and overcame him. He was now the entity of Octagon, while Octagon was only a fragment of himself.
Imbecile instantly knew what he had to do. He walked slowly backwards, still gazing deeply into Octagon’s powerful, hypnotic eyes. He turned and walked out of the tent. No more words needed to be spoken. He slowly glided back to the horses. He saddled Octagon’s horse, mounted and rode off towards his destination. No Monk took any notice of Imbecile, because no one cared what he did. All knew he was only a half-brain and could do no harm to them or anyone else. They knew he was not bold and was oblivious when it came down to accomplishing anything by himself.
A black-hooded Imbecile galloped his mount strongly across the many green hills. He sat on his horse firmly and with tenacity. Deafening thunder and monstrous lightning filled the heavy air as the night grew deeper. Never closing his eyes, a platinum light guided his way.
Into the night, Octagon sat weeping, encased and huddled inside blankets, which also surrounded him, shivering from his lack of spirit. He never had to deal with a lack of mastery in his life. He now found it hard to survive without it.
“Hurry, Imbecile! I cannot hold out throughout the night. I am fearful for myself. I need my mental and bodily strength back.”
Theo walked inside Octagon’s tent and noticed that he was nestled inside his blankets, like a newborn baby – shivering.
“What is this? And what are you mumbling about?” an unamused Theo asked him.
Octagon covered his face and looked away so that Theo could not read into his eyes. Afraid, very much afraid, that his eyes would tell all to the powerful Theo.
“I-I-I must have p-p-picked up something along the w-w-way. N-n-not feeling w-w-well,” Octagon stuttered, as if he was a true Imbecile.
“Why, you sound like Imbecile. Where is he at, anyway?”
“L-l-looking for b-b-bugaboos.” Theo rolled his eyes up into his head. “Such a halfwit – that Imbecile. It is time to lay him to rest.” Theo paused and looked closely and seriously at Octagon, and as Octagon turned his back on Theo, an uneasiness crept over the leader.
“This is not like you, Octagon! You are a strong Monk, stronger than most. I will go make a hot herbal brew for you. By morning, you should be back to normal. I do not like this. When Imbecile returns from his spook hunt, tell him I wish to see him. I intend to find out what he is up to.”
Octagon nodded to let Theo know that he had heard and understood him. Theo started to leave the tent, but then stopped. He turned back and looked questionably at Octagon, knowing that something was amiss. He then shrugged his shoulders and took his leave, feeling uneasy. I must keep my eyes on Octagon, Theo thought to himself. Tonight I see him as a stranger – a stranger who is a threat.
The night fell hard on the Ladybug Castle. A most solemn Ushi paced back and forth in contemplation with the Queen of the Willows. Augean and the castle’s attendants, with some of the women from the village, were helping to cleanse and bandage the wounds of the Willow Warriors and the males of the village who helped in the fighting. The main dining hall was filled to capacity. Most of the males were hurt, with numerous slashes covering their bodies, or they were gored deeply. Women from the kitchen served bowls of chicken and carrot soup with baked wheat and rye bread. This steaming hot brew was served all night with deep, rich, hot cocoa. It was a long, appalling night. Everyone was tired and nervous, with most being in some type of pain.
The Queen of the Willows, with her attendants, went to collect blankets and covers for the hurt males who were to sleep in the dining hall that night. Extra care was taken to safely cover the newly crafted carpets in the main dining hall, so that the men’s blood would not stain them. Blazing red fires burned brightly in all the fireplaces, bringing out the full redness of the Ladybug Castle.
Goldest sat on the long main table, hiccuping from the distress and excitement of the day and the long night. As a Queen, she felt helpless. She relied and depended on the Queen of the Willows and the Princess Augean to carry on with the care and tending of her people. The Queen of the Willows seemed to know exactly what to do by her supervision of all the castle’s attendants. Her commands and orders were taken seriously and acted upon immediately.
I have a lot to learn yet as a Queen, a weary Goldest thought to herself. I should consider myself fortunate to have the Queen of the Willows and the Princess Augean as guests here in my castle. I owe them so much, and I have nothing to give them. A golden tear fell from her golden eye.
Ushi stopped pacing and slowly faced his warriors, standing or sitting around him. They were filling their hungry and hurt bodies with the most welcome hot soup and bread.
“We will not surrender. Those are my spoken words to you all,” he told them.
A male villager stepped forward and proudly said, “And we will be right behind you.”
Shadow, watching Augean, growled in agreement.
Meanwhile, back in the humbleness of the Cuspid Castle, Savagio sat stretched out in a chair drinking wine while the Tooth Fairy Princess played her harp for him to enjoy. Both were dressed in relaxed, plain cream-colored silken gowns for the evening, with cream-colored woolen robes draped over their gowns for comfort and warmth. Both spent a relaxed, contented night with one another as they ate a late supper together. It was well into the night, and both were ready to retire.
A Tooth Warrior, Gaylord, made an entrance and bowed to the princess. She stopped playing her harp, wondering what it was he wanted, it being as late as it was. She then noticed how pink he was and not white like the other Tooth Warriors, and the surprise showed on her face. A knowing Gaylord just smiled at her surprise. He was amused by it.
“Princess, a Monk from the Kingdom of Thorns has just arrived and insists on having an audience with Savagio immediately. He says it is a matter of life and death!”
A strong and boldface Imbecile forced himself into the room, pushing the two Tooth Warrior Cuspids away from him, who were trying to hold him back from entering the main dining hall without the princess’s permission. Captain Cuspido and the Tooth Warriors who took command over the guards of the castle had retired for the night. Only the main castle guards were up and alert. They would not relax until the princess had retired for the night. Since the kingdom was at peace at the present, no guards were required to be posted during the full night.
Seeing Imbecile make suc
h a sudden entrance brought a smile to Savagio’s face, knowing what an idiot he was. “Imbecile! It is not like you to barge in like this!”
“Let him be,” the princess softly told her Tooth Warriors. They bowed obediently to her and left the hall.
An amused Savagio motioned for Imbecile to take a seat next to him. Imbecile removed his wet black-hooded cape, draped it over a chair, and sat in a sturdy, strong pose next to an amused Savagio.
Savagio chuckled. “This is not the Imbecile that I know of.”
“Octagon has given me a part of himself, so I could come alone. It was far easier that I would go unnoticed than he. His presence would be missed, while no one would miss mine,” Imbecile firmly told Savagio.
“I would say he gave all of himself to you, and not just a part of him,” Savagio jested. Savagio poured Imbecile a glass of wine in a goblet to warm his wet, tired body, and giving it to him said, “Octagon is a very clever Monk to have sent you in his place. Proceed, Imbecile, I am impatient for your spoken words.”
“Theo and the Monks have attacked the Ladybug Castle with the Thorn Warriors,” Imbecile bluntly informed him.
The princess gasped and clutched her hands to her heart.
Savagio sat there quietly, contemplating, and then smiled before he said, “The Ladybug Castle?”
The princess slowly rose and came forward. “Why, I have heard that the Queen of the Willows with her granddaughter have restored the castle and its grounds for Queen Goldest to rule over.”