The Gewgaws Adventure

by C. M. Bacon

BOOM!

  BOOM!

  BOOM!

  The stone section between our little windows and the stone wall between our cells both came crashing down, sending thousands of tiny pieces of stone into the straw bales and against the moldy walls and door. I coughed a little as the rock dust cleared, revealing what Sir Humbert had done. There it was - his Clydesdale’s flowing white tail and powerful hind legs. He had used that gargantuan horse’s explosive power to kick a hole through the stone wall from the stables into our dungeon cells. Except for a couple shallow cuts and scrapes, Arvin and I were unharmed.

  Sir Humbert stuck both his large hands down into our cell. “Why are you standing like frightened deer? Run before we all share a burning pyre!”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Tall Tales

  We rushed to the window and grabbed hold of his wrists. With a giant’s mighty tug, he pulled Arvin and me out of the cell. We flew into the stables and landed PLOP in a large pile of horse manure. Sir Humbert didn’t have time to laugh at our poop-covered faces as he reached into the next cell, freeing two of the sisters and again to free the third.

  Without even a moment for pleasant introductions, all six of us sprinted into the darkness. Arvin and I ran out of the stables first. We were followed by the three sisters and Sir Humbert. He directed us where to go. We ran along the castle walls and down into an unlit stone stairwell beneath the Silver Bell towers.

  “Where are we going, Sir Humbert?” I asked. “What’s under the bell towers?”

  “The King’s Catacombs,” he said, descending into the dark. “Keep your hands touching the stone wall at your side,” he said. “You don’t want to step off and join 973 kings and their bones in the darkness below.”

  I obeyed Sir Humbert but with a slight variation. I kept the tips of my fingers on the stone wall, reaching out my arm, stepping left as far as I could. With the tip of my foot, I felt the staircase in the darkness. It was rough and flat and made a scraping sound like I was sweeping aside a thousand years of dust and debris. I heard the RAKA-TAK-TAK of a few small rocks falling off the stair into the depths of the catacombs. I counted to ten as the rocks bounced and broke on the way down.

  RAKA-TAK-TAK

  The sound echoed fainter and fainter until the rocks smashed onto the floor far below. I stepped back to the wall and walked sideways scraping my palms and the tip of my nose against the stone of the catacomb staircase.

  “All the kings are buried down there,” said Sophia. I didn’t know what she looked like, but her soft voice was unmistakable. “Majesty 974th should already be in his tomb beginning to rot like wet roots.”

  “I don’t like this place,” Sonia said, her voice echoing in the dark stairwell. “The warlock who stole away Great Majesty 12th’s life is rumored to visit this place, casting spells with bones of dead Kings.”

  “Nonsense,” Sir Humbert said, stepping down off the last steps, “SENCE-SENCE-SENCE” echoing in the large chamber. “Now where did I put it?” Sir Humbert said.

  We all stood in darkness too black to see my hands waving in front of my eyes. Sir Humbert’s heavy armor made clanging sounds and he fiddled around with something.

  SCRATCH

  I heard a noise and saw a tiny flash in the darkness.

  SCRATCH-SCRATCH

  I heard two more and saw two more tiny flashes reflect off something shiny and gold.

  WOOSH!

  A torch sprung to life. Its blazing fire burned as bright as the noon sun at one end. Sir Humbert held the other end. We looked at him, looking at us - the sorry sight of three dirty sisters and two muddy, bloody, half-naked, bruised, sunburned boys.

  “Good to see you’ve made the most of your visit, Rhubarb,” he said, chuckling as we recoiled and plugged our ears with our fingers.

  In the few frustrating minutes it took Sir Humbert to expel an hour’s worth of pent up chuckles, I matched faces with the soft voices we’d been hearing all day.

  Sophia was the oldest and the tallest. She towered above me by over a foot and had straight brown hair reaching all the way to her waist. She was dirty as I expected. Her baby blue eyes reflected in the torch’s light. She was wearing a muddy frayed burlap bag down past her knees. Her dirty legs stood on the large feet she spoke of. They were at least two sizes too big for her ankles. From my experience, they were okay and rather “motherly.” She looked as though she was busy concentrating on our escape.

  Siria was the youngest but taller than Sonia. She had wavy brown hair intertwined with twigs and leaves. Her soft white skin, dirtied by the mush of the several figs she’d eaten that day, showed sparsely among bits of dungeon grime. She smiled, giggled, and looked up at Sir Humbert with her baby blue eyes as she walked with the giant she believed was her father. I envied her ignorance as the source of her joy, and if it weren’t for her mind’s absence, she reminded me of my crush, Emilia Wren.

  Sonia had brown hair like her sisters but cut short with what may have been a sharp rock. Her eyes were different. They were dark green and full of anger, like flashes of lightning were striking behind them. Her burlap bag dress stretched all the way to her feet - its excessive length cropped short like her hair. She was a little over four feet tall and was a ‘little person’ like Arvin. But she walked with a determination and attitude which made her seem almost as large as Sir Humbert. When I finished my survey of our brave new friends, Sir Humbert hadn’t stopped chuckling. His loud bellows echoed throughout the catacombs.

  Siria placed her delicate hand on Sir Humbert’s gold gauntlet. “Father, you promised you’d be nice to our new friends. Let’s find those potatoes and carrots so we can make a hearty stew for our guests.”

  Arvin turned to Sonia and asked in a whisper, “Where does she think she is?”

  “Siria’s rummaging around in Father’s root cellar again,” Sonia said, “but we can never be sure.”

  “Siria, Sonia, Sophia, Rhubarb and the other, taller yellow-haired one,” Sir Humbert said, addressing us all by name - or at least the ones he cared for, “we’ll wait for a night and a day. Tomorrow after sunset, we’ll escape through a secret exit only known to the King and his knights. I’ll warn you - it’s on the far end of the burial vaults.”

  “Sir Humbert,” I said, “My name is --”

  “Ok, let’s go,” Sir Humbert said, leading the way with Siri’s hand holding onto his giant arm, the torch’s black smoke filling the ceiling above his massive gold noggin. “It’s a long walk through the catacombs, my poor girl.”

  I growled, refusing to move from my place. “I said my name is --”

  “Let it go, Perry,” Arvin said. “Let it go.” Arvin stayed close to Sonia, heading into the long, dark tunnel ahead.

  Arvin and Sonia walked side-by-side ahead of Sophia and I. We tried not to listen, but it was too difficult to resist hearing Arvin try to charm a girl at least four years older than him just an hour after both escaped from a dank and dirty dungeon. Sonia told Arvin about her sisters and father, about Majesty 974th’s horrible reign, her kingdom called “Biel,” its history and folklore, and how fast she could butcher a sheep and cook a good stew with the meat. Arvin told Sonia about us, how we ended up in Biel, about the gewgaws, Shelbyville and Dublin, and how he used CPR to save my life.

  “Sonia,” I said, attempting to be Arvin’s wingman, “it’s true. Arvin’s a real hero. His magic kiss brought me back to life.”

  “Oh?” Sonia asked, looking at Arvin. “Did you save Perry with a magic kiss?”

  Arvin looked at me like he was about to put the whammy on me with his famous “evil eye,” but his expression shifted from contempt to cunning. He turned, smiling at Sonia, and took her hand into his.

  “Yes,” said Arvin, smiling ear-to-ear. “Yes, I did.”

  “Amazing. You’re brave, Arvin of Shelbyville,” Sonia said, looking into Arvin’s emerald eyes.

  “You’re courageous and pretty, Lady Sonia of Biel,” Arvin said.

  Sophia and I both smiled, b
acking away to let Arvin and Sonia walk a little further ahead.

  I said, “Sophia, can you tell me more about Majesty 12th and the terrible serpent that almost killed him?”

  Sophia tried to remember the story in greater detail. “It slithered through the white marble halls and down into the servants’ quarters where a washerwoman and her baby were sleeping. Great Majesty 12th heard the washerwoman screaming. He ran to her aid and fought with the serpent. In the struggle, the monster bit Great Majesty 12th on his right ring finger. The poison filled his finger, turning it all manner of color from yellow to green to purple down to the bone. The court healer had to cut off the finger before the poison spread. Nobody knows what became of the serpent. The finger was entombed in the catacombs soon after.”

  “What about Great Majesty 12th? Where is he buried?”

  “Up ahead in the largest room of the catacombs. His finger is kept in a gilded box on his chest.”

  I yelled up ahead to Sir Humbert. “Sir Humbert, I want to see The Great Majesty 12th’s tomb.” He was walking with Siria discussing the potato and carrot stew she was going to prepare for dinner.

  We arrived at Great Majesty 12th’s burial chamber. Sir Humbert entered first, leaving Siria to wait with her sisters.

  “Watch out, Father! I heard a serpent hissing by the potatoes,” Siria said.

  Sir Humbert drew his sword as he entered. Arvin and I talked as we waited for Sir Humbert to search the chamber.

  “Arvin, did you notice anything strange about 974th?” I asked.

  “No. It was hard to see anything other than Sir Talos or the floor.”

  “He looked exactly like you. I think he was you, Arvin.”

  “What are you talking about? That’s not possible.”

  “Do you remember what you said in the mudflat? The part about--”

  “It is safe. You may enter,” said Sir Humbert. Using his torch, he lit sixteen others evenly spaced on the walls.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” Arvin said, joining hands with Sonia.

  The chamber was less grand than I suspected a royal burial chamber should be. Round bronze discs covered the walls like Mom’s collector plates, reflecting torch light on Majesty 12th’s stone tomb in the center. The tomb had a large top panel of exquisite stained glass depicting intertwining fig bushes and other scenes from his reign. Sir Humbert knelt on one knee, his head bowing to honor the great King. Arvin and I along with Sophia, Sonia, and Siria gathered around the tomb and looked through the glass. Sir Humbert didn’t need to move closer as he could see above our heads - even sitting on his knees.

  All three girls recited in unison, “Great Majesty King Regem Elijah Endanleg the 12th, we honor your courage and sacrifice.” They bowed their heads and kissed the tomb on three sides. Sir Humbert extended his neck to kiss the fourth side of the tomb. Arvin bowed his head, joining Sonia in her prayers.

  As everyone said the prayers, I thought of sacrifice, the serpent, and all I’d seen in the last two weeks. I took Dad’s coin out to examine it in the torchlight. Holding it in my open palm, I thought, how did that get there? A single hole had reappeared in the center. It went all the way from the black side through to the silver side. I held it up to one of the torches. The light passed through the hole, shining a circle onto my chest over my heart. I circled a finger over the twisty-twirly writing. It looked so familiar. I couldn’t get it out of my head.

  “Long live the King,” everyone said as they finished their prayers. I put the coin back into my pocket to examine in brighter light if I ever got the chance. Everyone raised their heads and stepped closer to get a better look. The skeletal remains and a few dried bits of flesh were all that remained of Great King Regem Elijah Endanleg the 12th. It was as close to a mummy as I had ever seen. His bones were draped in similar clothes to those of 974th, but these were made from fine wool. From his waist to his feet, Majesty 12th’s sword was polished yet plain - no gold, no jewels, nothing of value. He wore a crown on his skull. It was gold but almost modest in comparison to what we had seen on the nobles. The gilded box rested between his hands, affixed to his chest. Blue felt lined the inside of the box, but where the finger should be, only an indentation remained.

  “Where’s his finger?” Arvin asked.

  “Don’t you ever pay attention? He was bitten by a monster snake,” I said giving him the express version of the story. “It turned purple before someone had to cut it off. Does that sound familiar to you?”

  “Purple?” Arvin asked. “Purple finger?” He reached into his short’s little pocket and pulled out the bones we’d found in the mudflat, stained purple from the mulberry juice. “You mean these purple bones?”

  Sophia asked, “Arvin, how did you get those? Did you steal them?”

  “No, we found them in the mud. I’ve been keeping them in my pocket since we met Sir Humbert. I didn’t want to risk losing them with all the stepping and swinging my arms on the march to the castle.”

  “If he says he found them elsewhere,” Sonia said, “he found them elsewhere. Arvin is brave and true. I don’t doubt his word.”

  Sonia leaned over and planted a kiss on Arvin’s red lips. Arvin looked as proud as a spelling bee contestant who spelled “Vivisepulture” for the championship trophy. He beat me to a “first kiss” as well. It looked magical enough for the both of them.

  “How do you suppose they went from his tomb to the mudflat?” I asked Arvin.

  Arvin said, “That’s a mystery I’d like to solve someday.”

  “I believe him, too,” Sir Humbert said, joining the conversation. He stood up from his prayers. “Rhubarb is small, but he’s also been True. But, what should we do with the bones?”

  “Leave it to me,” Arvin said.

  We all stood back and watched as Arvin walked to the burial vault wall and pulled on one of the bronze discs affixed to the stone. It wouldn’t budge - not even a little.

  Arvin looked from the wall to Sir Humbert. “Sir Humbert, will you, please?”

  “Certainly,” said Sir Humbert as he reached over, grabbing hold of one of the bronze discs.

  With his massive hands, he ripped it from the wall as if he had plucked a rose petal saying “she loves me” or “she loves me not.” In a cloud of dust and falling stone debris, Sir Humbert handed the bent bronze disc to Arvin. Arvin raised it high above his head, and with brought it down on the stained glass.

  CRASH!

  The stained glass shattered all over Majesty 12th’s bare bones.

  “If you wanted me to break the glass, why didn’t you ask me?” Sir Humbert said.

  Arvin said, “I wasn’t sure you would, and this is much more dramatic.” He smiled at Sonia.

  Arvin stood on the tips of his toes and reached into the tomb. He grabbed the gilded gold box and tossed it aside. He laid the King’s right hand flat and lined up the mulberry stained bones in the proper order, placing them onto Majesty 12th’s skeletal hand. Nothing happened. The dead King was dead, but now he had a purple finger. We all stared at the finger for a full minute.

  CLANG-CLANG-CLANG

  We heard the echoing of heavy armor coming our way.

  “Intruders, leave Great Majesty 12th’s chamber before I slice you in two,” Sir Talos said, his monstrous voice echoing into the burial vault. The giant golden knight came barreling into the chamber.

  We all turned to face the mountainous knight as he lumbered with sword drawn through the high chamber entrance. Sir Talos towered over Sir Humbert by at least two feet. His golden helmet sent a shower of sparks into the air as it scraped across the stone ceiling.

  “Traitor!” Sir Talos shouted, seeing it was Sir Humbert. “I’m going to enjoy splitting you in half.”

  “Who’s going to split whom in half?” a soft voice asked from behind us.

  Sir Talos gasped and fell to his knees as we all turned around. Great Majesty 12th sat up in his stone tomb, wiping the sleep from his brown eyes as if he had woken from a child’s bad dream
, his thick brown hair matted to his face under his crown. Sir Humbert followed Sir Talos, and the rest of us followed next, kneeling to bow before the Great King.

  “Tell me honorable knights, filthy young ladies, and vulgar boys,” Majesty 12th asked, “what is the meaning of this?”

  Arvin and I locked eyes on each other. Our shirtless torsos were still red from the sun. I wish I knew.

  Shattered Siria spoke for all of us, “Oh no. All our potatoes and carrots have rotted.”

  Over the next few days, Great Majesty 12th retook the throne, this time as “The King.” Aldor was stripped of his titles and sent back to Irbon without his breakfast. The King disbanded the Gold Knights for their cruelty, except for Sir Humbert, who became the King’s Silver Guard. A fortune in gold and jewels was paid to everyone set free from the dungeons.

  Arvin and I were sewn custom made blue silk tunics, pants, slippers, and pairs of clean underwear. White peacock feathers stuck out of our blue silk hats and silver, and blue diamond pendants swung from our squeaky clean necks. I kept Dad’s coin a small pocket hidden inside the tunic along with the five-dollar bill Mom gave me that day. Arvin kept his twisted copper wire; he still thought it was a great gewgaw. We spent three days recovering in the castle along with the sisters. We all enjoyed eating white figs and taking hot soapy baths, though not together or at the same time because that would be “vulgar.”

  The scorching summer heat reminded Arvin and me of home, the Shelby Lane Pool, and the wonderful air-conditioning we’d been without for too long. Without saying “goodbye,” we headed for the castle gate, being stopped on our way by King’s Silver Guard Sir Humbert the Brave.

  “Arvin and Perry, where do you think you’re running off to?” asked Sir Humbert. “The King would like to see you in the throne room.”

  Sir Humbert led us into the newly decorated throne room dressed in pure white ribbons over blue carpets and drapes. The King sat on his throne, fitting him as it had been designed. A short wooden pillar, its top covered with red satin, stood at the foot of the throne. The King looked down to us. His brown eyes were bright and kind.