Frog

by Joffre White

  ‘Here lies the present and the future, I have consulted with the highest of Magik and the laws of nature, balance, cause and effect,’ he announced. ‘The fate of kingdoms and worlds beyond ours depends on the defence of Castellion. The future hangs on our victory over the wickedness that designs to conquer and destroy us. Take these orders as your destiny and do not stray from their direction, lest you put us all in peril.’

  Once again he touched the map with his cane. The parchment started to segment into small scrolls and each scroll sealed itself with a gold ribbon and rose into the air until there were as many of them as there were commanders, knights and the Chosen. Three hundred and seven in all. The scrolls floated around the hall until each one hovered above its selected individual.

  Gizmo continued. ‘The contents are guarded against the prying eyes of our enemies. Read them well and only share them with those that you can truly trust. Some of you may find that you are bound by the same instructions and path, others may find that they do not comprehend the reason in their orders. Have patience, see the task and passage through, do not doubt its motives. Now, return to your camps, consult the scrolls and make your preparations to leave. May the Light be with you.’

  He lowered his cane and the scrolls dropped into waiting hands.

  There was no cheering, reverie or loud camaraderie. Instead, farewells and good wishes, along with heartfelt embraces were exchanged and as the Chosen watched from the dais, the hall emptied quietly and in an orderly fashion.

  Ginger appeared at Frog’s side.

  ‘Remind me how I ended up here?’ he asked Frog.

  ‘Because you’ve become someone who I can trust and rely on,’ replied Frog.

  ‘Am I going to regret this?’ asked Ginger.

  ‘Probably,’ smiled Frog.

  ‘Then I wouldn’t miss it for anything,’ Ginger grinned back.

  The others were opening their scrolls and Frog did likewise with Ginger and Fixer leaning over his shoulder.

  The lettering on the scroll was plain and the instructions were simple:

  You will leave immediately

  and accompany Lady Dawnstar,

  Logan and Sir Peacealot into the

  Labyrinth and solve its secret,

  seek out the Earth Sage

  and release the Blackwater.

  ‘What about us?’ asked Ginger, indicating to himself and Fixer.

  ‘I go where Lady Dawnstar goes,’ said Fixer.

  ‘So, what about me?’ emphasised Ginger.

  ‘You go where I go,’ answered Frog.

  ‘The Labyrinth. Not really my favourite idea of an adventure,’ said Ginger worriedly.

  ‘Labyrinths are just mazes, puzzles,’ said Frog. ‘It’ll be fun. I like puzzles.’

  ‘Well I hope you’re good at solving them,’ said Fixer. ‘Of all who have gone into the Labyrinth, no one has ever returned or been seen again. Ever.’

  ‘Thanks for reminding me,’ said Ginger gloomily.

  The king turned. ‘Let us compare our instructions.’

  They gathered in a circle and the king continued.

  ‘I am to take my army of royal knights and fighting men and women of Castellion Stronghold to the south and face Lord Maelstrom and his despicable creatures.

  No doubt I shall enjoy cutting into Fangmaster’s stinking wolves and with a bit of luck I’ll separate his head from his body once and for all. Dealing with Lord Maelstrom, if he puts in an appearance will, I’m sure, be a different matter.’

  ‘I am to accompany King Hector,’ said Gizmo. ‘I must take myself where the threat of Lord Maelstrom is the strongest. These will be testing times for my Magik.’

  ‘I go north, to the Frozen Wastes with my dragon masters, Logan’s Rangers, the bowmen of Dinham and the Maids of Steel,’ said Sir Dragonslayer.

  ‘My Rangers go without my leadership?’ questioned Logan.

  ‘My Maids also,’ added Lady Dawnstar. ‘Who will they follow?’

  ‘They will follow your most trusted commanders,’ said Gizmo. ‘They have their instructions also and this is how it must be. You have trained your people well. Now it is time to let them show you what they can do and, if necessary, carry it out without you. Your challenges lie in a separate direction, the Labyrinth awaits.’

  ‘I cannot help you on your task for you go into the domain of the Earth Sage where my Magik has no authority. You must use your own strengths and the powers as given to you. Fail and we are all in peril.’

  ‘No pressure then,’ said Frog.

  ‘Hold on to your sense of humour, young Frog, you may need to call upon it many times in the coming days,’ said Gizmo sternly. ‘Now, you must all take leave on your quest. Logan will lead you to the Labyrinth. He is the only one who has knowledge of its location apart from myself.’

  None of them could stop themselves bowing to the king as they left, it just seemed the right thing to do no matter what his command. Gizmo and the king watched the party disappear through the great doors.

  ‘There lies our future, how it plays out is now out of my hands,’ said Gizmo to the king. ‘Last eve I consulted the Guardians and the news is not good. There has been a breech in the Dimensions and the missing Rune Stone has returned. It would appear that the Stones are drawn back to their own Dimension after one phase of the moon. They return to the last holder and in this circumstance, as the witch Belzeera was cast out into the Dimensions, the Stone has returned from the Slipstream with new Magik and into Lord Maelstrom’s hand.’

  ‘All he needs now is the boy and by covering the Stone in the boy’s blood, he will gain the ability to take his malevolence through the Slipstream and into the next Dimension.’

  The king placed his hand on the wizard’s arm. ‘I will be guided by your wisdom and loyalty, my friend, but I will not let Castellion become the first of the Dimensions to fall and be used as a catalyst of destruction.’

  ‘It will need the strength of man and the force of Magik to work in harmony. Should one overpower the other, then there will be chaos,’ warned Gizmo.

  ‘Then let us to battle and play out our parts, Lord Wizard. My sword arm is stiff and needs some exercise, let’s prod the wasps’ nest that is Lord Maelstrom and distract his attention for a while.’

  ‘I’ve always been very good at swatting wasps,’ replied Gizmo, and they allowed themselves a chuckle as they too made their way across the now deserted hall and out through its towering doors.

  In the courtyard by the main stables, Frog, Ginger and Fixer were making sure that Lady Dawnstar, Logan and Sir Peacealot’s horses were ready and that all they needed was packed and secured on the accompanying mules. The three of them also had leather backpacks and had prepared their own horses ready to ride. Frog took particular pride in making sure that Thunder was well brushed, his hooves polished and that his bridle gleamed.

  So it was on that warm but overcast morning, the party of six horses, three mules and six riders made their way through the throng of the castle grounds and out amongst the various groups of Castellion’s defenders, who were making their own preparations for the parts that they would play in the coming confrontations.

  As the little party moved in single file, with Logan leading the way, the occasional captain or commander gave recognition to them with a nod or a touch of their foreheads in formal salute before they turned back to encourage their groups with a sense of urgency and purpose. Such was the vastness of the assembled forces that it took the group over an hour to pass by the outermost sentries and travel westward, out across the open landscape of grass plains, the green horizon appearing endless to Frog’s eyes.

  An hour later, Sir Dragonslayer met with his dragon masters and the commanders of Logan’s Rangers, Lady Dawnstar’s Maids of Steel and the bowmen of Dinham.

  He had shared most of what was written in his scroll, only keeping back some small detail which he was instructed to reveal closer to the time of battle. As Gizmo had predicted, there had been no que
stion or lack of loyalty from Lady Dawnstar’s or Logan’s commanders towards Sir Dragonslayer’s leadership. He was accepted without exception, along with the orders that he passed on.

  Their army was to advance in three waves in as much daylight as possible to the north, towards the Frozen Wastes and the Hidden People. Firstly, Logan’s Rangers were to scout across the region and relay messages back to the groups on any strengths and weaknesses that they observed in the enemy’s lines. Then the Maids of Steel on their white steeds, moving forwards in gleaming rows, would be ready to cut through whatever resistance came their way. Finally the bowmen of Dinham were to follow through at a distance, well within the range of any target that they needed to reach with their arrows and awesome accuracy. Supporting and protecting them all from the air would be Sir Dragonslayer and his dragon masters.

  The night time would be the most treacherous, as this would be when the effect of the Hidden People’s powers would be at its strongest. As they advanced, the sub-zero temperatures would blacken and freeze everything in their tracks. This was the moment at which Sir Dragonslayer would need to be most resourceful if he were to hold back and defeat the deadly menace that took no prisoners and threatened to overwhelm the land.

  In the late afternoon, King Hector and Gizmo were the last to depart Castellion Stronghold, leaving behind a token force of landsmen and soldiers to defend the castle from any small groups of Lord Maelstrom’s allies that might find their way through the outer defences.

  The knights and fighting men and women, gathered under King Hector’s banners, were spread out across the southern borders. Their numbers were so great that more than a mile separated the outermost captains. Their ranks were a hundred deep. King Hector rode along the front lines, spending time in view of all of his people, riding along back and forth, sometimes speaking words of calm encouragement and other times shouting rallying cries of support. During encampments he would walk amongst the camp fires sharing warmth, nourishment and conversation with as many of his people as he could.

  Gizmo would disappear during the nights, only to reappear each morning at sunrise with Storm by his side. The animal retained its panther size for most of the time but occasionally it would be found, sleeping in the back of one of the supply wagons, curled up cat-size, with a contented look on its face and fresh blood on its whiskers.

  Despite the size of the force, they progressed with a good pace forward towards the ever growing blackness that filled the southern horizon and the rising sound of thunder that each day could be felt vibrating through the ground beneath them. Forked lightning stabbed at the ground in the distance and could be seen during both the days and nights. At the end of each day, blood-red fingers of cloud would streak out through the far-off blackened sky and across the horizon.

  10

  Going Down

  Frog’s party had been travelling for three days when the grassland stopped and a landscape of misshapen, grey rocks spread out before them in all directions. It seemed to him that some giant had attempted to lay his own grey, stone crazy-paving. Only this really was crazy, with enormous blocks of rock tilted this way and that, some rising and some falling. Laid out before them was a flat stone platform inserted into three rough, grey stone walls, two or three metres in height. The rock barrier extended into the distance on either side.

  ‘Is there no way around?’ questioned Lady Dawn-star.

  ‘We’re not going around,’ answered Logan. ‘We’re going in.’

  ‘But we’ll never get the horses across, the sides are too sheer, and even if we did manage to get them onto the ledges their hooves will just slide on some of the rocks and they’ll fall and be injured,’ she replied.

  ‘Just follow me,’ instructed Logan stepping on to the first large flat rock. Frog shrugged and followed, leading his horse slowly and carefully. One by one, the rest gently encouraged their horses and the mules to step up and on to the rock, until there was just Sir Peacealot and his horse left standing on the grass verge.

  ‘There’s no room,’ he said. ‘We’ll never all fit on there.’

  ‘You’ve got to,’ shouted back Logan. ‘Or none of us is going anywhere.’

  Sir Peacealot climbed the step and pulled gently at his horse’s reins, softly encouraging the animal. The horse placed both front legs on to the rock but couldn’t move further.

  ‘I told you, there isn’t enough room,’ repeated Sir Peacealot.

  ‘Hang on a minute,’ said Frog. ‘We can make room, everyone get on their horses, that should do it.’

  One by one they followed Frog’s lead until they were all mounted and were able to move close to each other. Sure enough, the space that was made enabled Sir Peacealot to get his horse on to the platform.

  ‘Now what?’ he asked as he mounted his horse. ‘We’re all stuck here with nowhere to go, the rocks are too high around us, we’re blocked in, the only way is back.’

  Logan reached forwards and put his hand inside a small oval recess in the rock. The rock gave a loud shudder and with a grinding, crunching sound tilted away and lowered its surface until it was level with the one that they were all occupying. As it settled, it seemed that a chain reaction had started and a zig-zag pathway of rocks lowered, righted and levelled themselves out into the distance before them, forming an even corridor through the other towering crags.

  ‘Well. I’m glad that worked,’ said Logan with a sigh of relief. ‘Now follow me.’

  The party followed in single file at a steady pace, giving the horses and mules time to find their footing on the smooth surface of the rock, the sound of their hooves eerily echoing against the sides of the now towering rocks on either side of their passage.

  Frog made his way forwards to walk beside Logan.

  ‘Have you been here before?’ he asked.

  ‘Once,’ replied Logan. ‘Many, many years ago.’

  ‘So you know where we’re going?’ asked Ginger.

  ‘To the Labyrinth,’ replied Logan.

  ‘What’s in the Labyrinth?’ asked Frog.

  Logan turned. His face was deadly serious. ‘Our destiny.’ He nodded back over their shoulders. ‘Now I would suggest that one of you keeps an eye on the mules before we lose our supplies.’

  Ginger and Frog turned to see that two of the mules were just standing still and were gradually being left behind.

  ‘I’ll get them,’ said Ginger, handing the reins of his horse to Frog. ‘You keep going, I’ll catch up.’

  ‘I don’t think that there’s much chance of us losing you,’ said Fixer as Ginger scampered past her. ‘But I’ll wait here for you just in case.’

  Ginger spent at least five minutes trying to coax the mules to move. He pushed, pulled, pleaded, begged and threatened, but they remained stubbornly still. Meanwhile, the rest of the party were becoming small figures in the distance and Frog’s voice could be heard.

  ‘Come on you two, we haven’t got all day!’

  ‘Okay Ginger,’ called Fixer. ‘You obviously haven’t got the touch.’

  Ginger’s red face appeared from behind one of the mules. ‘All right then, Miss clever pants, you get down here and shift them.’

  Fixer smiled. ‘I don’t need too,’ she said and, raising two fingers to her lips, she gave a sharp whistle.

  The two mules immediately sprang into a trot and headed down the passageway after the others while Ginger stood there open-mouthed.

  Fixer rode down the passage to the bewildered Ginger. ‘Come on then!’ she said, reaching down her hand. ‘Don’t just stand there catching flies, get on up here, or have I got to whistle at you too?’

  Ginger grabbed her hand and swung himself up onto the back of the horse.

  ‘Why didn’t you do that in the first place?’ he asked.

  ‘I was bored and needed a little amusement,’ she said with a mischievous giggle. ‘Now hold tight, because if you fall off you can walk the rest of the way.’ With that, she spurred her horse and they were off at a speedy
trot after the mules and the rest of the group.

  When they rejoined the others, Fixer regaled them with the story and poor Ginger had to endure the laughter that followed, including comments relating to how many ‘asses’ they had actually brought along. However, he took it all in good spirit, as the humour was well natured and not intended to belittle him.

  Sometimes the passage narrowed, leaving just enough room for them to travel in single file, and at other times it widened so that they could ride two or three abreast. None of them could fail to notice that they were on a gradual slope, taking them deeper into the rocks that towered menacingly above them, causing a claustrophobic atmosphere. The air was also getting warmer, becoming thick and heavy. The horses behaved nervously, pulling at their reins and snorting in short bursts. Gradually the light began to dim and a fine mist crept down the dark stone walls and collected on the ground, swirling around the horses’ and mules’ legs.

  For some time, Lady Dawnstar and Sir Peacealot had been riding at the front with Logan, their conversations a whisper to the ears of Frog, Ginger and Fixer, who had been kept busy encouraging the mules to keep moving.

  Suddenly Logan stopped.

  ‘Here we dismount and continue on foot. Ginger, organise some torches before we lose the last of the light.’

  Ginger untied three torch staves from one of the mule’s packs and handed them to Frog and Fixer. He then pulled a stone flask from one of the bundles and poured a thick, sour-smelling liquid over the torch heads.

  ‘Phew!’ exclaimed Frog. ‘What’s that smell?’

  ‘Some mixture of the wizard’s,’ replied Ginger. ‘I think it’s better that we don’t know what’s in it. Let’s just get them alight. Fixer, can you make a spark?’ he asked.

  Fixer produced a tinderbox from inside her tunic and with the first strike ignited Ginger’s torch, which flared with a brightness that illuminated the stone corridor, pushing the descending darkness well away from them.

  ‘Well done. Now light the other two,’ instructed Logan. ‘You keep one at the back, I’ll take one for the front and Sir Peacealot can carry the other.’