Quen Nim (11 page)

The trickling of the tear down the ash green cheek of Nimble Missst reached the corner of her smile. Old Dabber rested his emerald green hand on Nimby's silver caped left shoulder. Both of ‘em, grandfather and granddaughter, were lost in time.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Ceremony

The morning saw notched posts, formed poles, tapered beams, and smoothed planks carried into the courtyard and assembled into a wedding scaffold by the burly lumber wenches. Cartjaggers, having nothing important left to do since their vedling carts remained loaded and secured for departure, milled about observing the hurry of the pennant hangers, garland drapers, kitchen workers, cobble buffers, and everyone other else laboring wordlessly or flying to task. A fair two hours of span was all it took for the Castle to transform so such into a seemingly towered wedding cake.

High from a turret sounded the Great Horn. Its singular long blaring note threw all citizenry and guests into a boil, sent ‘em rushing to assigned positions of observation. Having reached those so said positions with some amount of skidding, nudging, and rustling, the assembled crowd hushed and stilled. All eyes turned to the drawbridge gate. The nester musicians surrounding the wedding scaffold in a neat and precise square struck up the ‘Royal Tune of Blossom'. At the first chord, Zootch stepped forth from the tower flanking the drawbridge on the left. A gasp. Truth, for the greater number of the gathered masses, it was their first sight of a Blossom Prince in magnificent pummeled gold and battered silver finery. He advanced to the scaffold, head high, walking on the unrolled stripe of purple carpet fringed with gold. Up the steps to the topmost platform he boldly strode. He turned to face the drawbridge. The crowd turned with him. The music ceased.

Down to the drawbridge descended the ladder stairs from Cloud Castle City. A moment of silence, of expectation, followed. Nimble Missst appeared in azure splendor. The nester musicians began to play ‘The Slow March of Weddings and Taffy Pulls'. The crowd forgot to breathe, so enthralled were they by the unfolding spectacle. Nimby, thinking Ridiculous, nevertheless walked the steps in time to the stately march. She walked the purple carpet, walked the scaffold steps, reached Zootch's side, and turned to give a nod to a herald who waited for that very signal. The herald ran importantly to the ladder steps and waved up at Cloud Castle City. Now the flow of craggers and hollowites and various others streamed down the ladder steps into the courtyard and filled all the empty spaces there. Motty was among ‘em, spinning in dance and looping her tongue. A long minute of silence ensued, interrupted only by random coughs and one sneeze. A nester musician holding a hand harp stepped one pace forward and began to play ‘Enchanting May', a song so such written long ago to honor Lady May of Orrun. Azure splendor again appeared on the ladder steps. Nimble Missst's family glided down. Her father, her mother, her grandfather, her grandmother, all moved along the purple carpet and up to take their proper positions on the marriage scaffold. As the final plucked harp note faded, all on the scaffold turned as one to face the doors of the Great Hall. The doors swung open. Gasps of disbelief. Zootch's knees buckled. His face paled.

Side by side, stiff and tight-lipped, were Queeeeeeeeeeeeeeen Zilp and Zootch's mother, the Quing of Blossom Castle! Behind the pair of ‘em smiling weakly was Kinng Forr. Next to him was the stone-faced Quang. To the scaffold they advanced, dignified, haughty. To their prime ceremonial positions they moved while the nester musicians played ‘Blossoms in Bloom'. The Queeeeeeeeeeeeeeen stood on Nimble Missst's right. The Quing planted herself on Zootch's left. Zootch felt sick. Nimby felt ridiculous. After a torture of time, ‘Blossoms in Bloom', the long version, concluded.

“Citizens of the Boad, All Fidd and Leee Combined, and of Cloud Castle City, in addition, my glee is unmasked. My adored and playful sister has been harvested here by waterwizard magic to attend and witness the joy. We have spent the morning frolicking like fresh dew-browed buds, dancing and singing and laughing without tethers. We larked in memories of when we were tender shoots romping carelessly on the terraces,” droned Zilp through motionless lips.

“I bow low in honor of my Queeeeeeeeeeeeeeenly sister,” said the Quing, not moving a muscle.

Nimble Missst's eyes flicked glances left and right. Where is he? she thought. He told me he was free of magic. Hmmmmm … He's free of magic, but he still knows where to find it and use it! Hah! Her snapjaw mind fully engaged, her eyes searched the crowd. She saw what she sought. A ripple of wind ruffled a tarp on a vedling cart. Through the crowd the ripple moved, bending feathers on caps, shivering cloaks. Though it was too far away to hear if it chuckled, Nimble Missst knew that such was so. I'll carve him a few choice words! I'll … Of a sudden she realized all was silence and every eye was fixed on her.

“Well?” droned Zilp.

“Well what?” retorted Nimble Missst.

“Will you continue this unbearable torture, or will you gladly step into the oats?” said the Queeeeeeeeeeeeeeen in her emotionless manner.

“Oh, that. Why not?” said Nimble Missst.

She saw Zootch already standing in his formal bowl of oats. She stepped nimbly into hers. They were wed.

Chapter Thirty-Four

After The Ceremony

Nimble Missst waited to hear Zootch declare he was Kig with no ‘n' and she was Quen with one ‘e'. She waited in vain. No word was spoken. She glanced at Zootch to discover what was amiss and understood all in a snapjaw flash. It was simply the presence of the Quing. The Quing, of course, had squashed to oat gruel Zootch's ability to function. He stood there, eyes empty, staring straight ahead. Nimble Missst sprang into snapjaw action.

“Citizens of the Boad, All Fidd and Leee Combined, prepare to feast,” she began in bold ringing tones. “Ye see before ye the new Royalty. Zootch, formerly Prince of Blossom Castle, is now your KIG with no ‘n' at all!”

The crowd reeled under the brilliance of the concept. Cheers erupted to fill the courtyard and spill out over the fields of oats. Nimby allowed ‘em time to roar before subduing ‘em by raising a smoke ash green hand.

“Yes, KIG Zootch of the Boad, All Fidd and Leee Combined,” she continued. “Furthermore, I say to ye that from now until on I am no longer the princess Nimble Missst of Cloud Castle City. I am …”

She paused dramatically. Every citizen, creature, visitor, everyone all leaned forward, not breathing, to catch her next words.

“Quen Nim, one ‘e', of the Boad, All Fidd and Leee Combined,” she said calmly.

Explosion of joy! Hats were flung, neighbors embraced, shrieks of delight rose to the sky. The nester musicians began to play a lively Blossom reel, and everyone danced -craggers with hutters, hutters with hollowites, Motty whirling alone, head back, tongue wagging in loops above. And when the dance was concluded, another roar of approval sailed out over the fields. Quen Nim once more raised her hand. The crowd stilled, grew attentive, eager to hear more words from the Quen. Rindle Mer, posed in her proper place on the second terrace of the wedding scaffold, wore her proudest frown and batted impatiently at her two wet eyes. Lord Jay Dot, next to her, beamed. Old Dabber of the West and Lady May of Orrun held tightly each the other's hand and smiled through teary eyes.

“We, Kig Zootch and Quen Nim, do hereby release Queeeeeeeeeeeeeeen Zilp and Kinng Forr into well-earned retirement,” Nimby decreed. “And furthermore, in addition, we double the decree to include their beloved sister and brother-in-law, the Quing and the Quang of Blossom Castle. We command that they shall accompany the departing Royals on their journey to the northern foothills. What of Blossom Castle, ye might ask? Ye are aware that I, your new Quen, do possess a most extraordinary snapjaw mind.”

Here Nimble Missst paused again so such for the drama to build. The words ‘snapjaw mind' fell from hundreds of lips as heads nodded like oat tassels in a breeze. The Quing turned her head a full half inch in Nimby's direction, so alarmed was she. Zootch's stricken eyes began to gleam with hope.

“The Quing and the Quang have never before left the confines of the walls and towers surrounding the terraces of Blossom Castle. Why now?” Nimby began to analyze and explain. “To attend an only son's wedding? Some might say that is reason enough, but some do not have my snapjaw mind. Truth, none have it. I'll tell ye why they left. They too have decided to retire!”

The Quing's eyes widened almost perceptively. The Quang gaped in disbelief.

“Yes,” continued the commanding Quen, “it is true. Cartjaggers! To your carts! Carry away the Queeeeeeeeeeeeeeen and the Kinng and the Quing and the Quang with our heartfelt wishes for the glorious ease of a wonderful retirement. Citizens, three cheers for the departing Royalty!”

Three cheers sounded with crispness and vigor. A lane to the Royal vedling cart opened spontaneously through the crowd. Expectant eyes turned to gaze at the Quing and the Quang and the Queeeeeeeeeeeeeeen and the Kinng. What could they do to maintain dignity? Merely what the snapjaw mind of Nimble Missst knew they must do. They glided in haughty composure from the wedding scaffold and through the gathered citizenry to the Royal vedling cart. Such was so. In they climbed. On the velvet bench side by side sat the straight-backed blank-faced sisters. On the bed of the cart rode the Kinng and the Quang. Nimble Missst pointed out the gate, and the caravan began to roll. Kinng Forr waved and smiled, and the Quang barely nodded solemnly. Those close by thought they heard the Kinng mutter, “But I wanted cake.” All that was seen of the sisters as the carts moved across the drawbridge was the double image straight stiff backs of ‘em.

“Bring on the feast!” roared Kig Zootch, leaping from his bowl of oats and thrusting a fist in the air.

Ridiculous, thought Nimble Missst, noting the grateful glance he gave her.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Quen Nim Decrees

The feast was brought on. Burly wenches rushed out trestles to support rushed out table tops. The clatter, pound and scrape of assembly were brief, and the completed assembly was followed by the rushing out of a hundred benches. The kitchen staff flowed into the courtyard with trenchers of delicacies piled high. There were ladgecakes and compotes of gadapple or palmpear and oat crumbles and oat puree soup and various melons, striped or spotted, and pies of every variety, handheld to full platter rounds, and Clover honey in vats, buckets or urns. There were goblets and goblets splash full of mollywater and carafes of elvian dew for the younglings. All of these things were slammed on the tables, and the citizenry was invited to be seated by the newly confident and proud Kig Zootch. The citizenry flocked to the benches eagerly, and were forced to hold ‘emselves in check while waiting for the Royalty to descend from the marriage scaffold. Rindle Mer, Jay Dot, Lady May, Old Dabber, Zootch and Nim took their places at the Most Royal Table. And when they had done so, Kig Zootch shouted, “Eat!”

Crunching, swallowing, biting, slurping, sipping, the jingling of the bells on the hats of the Fools, and the low rumble buzz of conversation were the noises heard filling the courtyard. Some of the sights which could have been seen were: hollowites entertaining hutters with agile tongue acrobatics; craggers snaking their spidery hands to a sudden snatching of melons; burly wenches consuming pies two and three at a time; sculgers scurrying to refill goblets; Fools balancing spoons on their noses or crossing their eyes; Rindle Mer arguing angrily with the ripples formed by a laughing wind on her puree oat soup; Quen Nim leaning to whisper into Kig Zootch's ear, and Kig Zootch nodding yes.

What had Quen Nim whispered to Kig Zootch? She informed him she would make the announcement after the ool. What announcement? Truth, all about the Most Royal and Regal Quen Problem Solving Days to be established as a new snapjaw Boad tradition. So such, when all citizens and visitors were sagging stuffed, and more groans than slurpings were heard, Kig Zootch stood.

“Bring on the ool!” he commanded.

Bowls and bowls of ool were brought forth, and all of the ool was dreckulan, the finest. Pitchers of hoddle were passed around to spill on the dreckulan ool. Stuffed as they were, the citizenry could not let pass the rare opportunity to taste dreckulan ool spilled with hoddle. A humming of ‘Mmmmmm' sounded unbidden from every throat at the very first tickle on the tongue. Sated, satisfied, happy, all sat limp in a sort of a serene blissful stupor. Such was the time when Quen Nim rose to address ‘em.

“Citizens of the Boad, All Fidd and Leee Combined,” she began quietly, “all problems and troubles of daily strife have for this happy time been forgotten. Ye have a Kig with no ‘n' at all and a Quen with only one ‘e'. New rhymes will be sung in hutter homes tonight. And I say to ye that there will be two new days of celebration.”

The snapjaw Nimby paused for the drama and allowed the citizens to look around one at the other and wonder.

“Yes, twice a year, any problem, any mystery, any riddle, any puzzle, ridiculous or other, that any of ye are struggling with will be personally solved by me and my snapjaw mind,” she continued. “These days shall be called The Most Royal and Regal Quen Problem Solving Days.”

Pause. Murmurs. “There's a thing.” “Snapjaw mind.” “I've got problems.”

“On each of these days, a feast comparable to the magnitude and splendor of this one will be provided.”

Pause. Murmurs. “NOW I couldn't eat another bite, but in two days …” “I'll just take one nibble of everything next time.” “I can't think about food now.”

“And so … good-bye.”

Pause. Murmurs. “Good-bye?” “Good-bye?” “Goodbye?”

“I leave ye with your Kig. And when I return it will be the first glorious Most Royal and Regal Quen Problem Solving Day!” concluded Quen Nim.