The Title of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 8) (3 page)

“That date sounds familiar to me but I can’t quite place it.”

“When do you believe is your correct time period, Icksi?”

“1877.”

“Why that’s almost 1350 years from now! I’ll be an old man by then!”

“Can this really be the year 528? Golly, that’s a really long time ago! The ancient crusades are still almost five hunnerd years in the future!”

“If you are from the future, then tell me about how it’s gonna be.”

“Well, all those peasants labouring in the muck out in those fields will one day have the same rights under the law as any nobleman.”

“Get on!”

“It’s true. Also, the world will be proven to be round, not flat.”

“Let in!”

“Yessir, the Earth revolves around the sun and it is predicted, that predicated on their being able to pass the required evaluations, a few women will one day be able to vote in certain, limited elections.”

“That’s outrageous!”

“Yessir, the futuristic world of 1877 is a bold new world my friend. Part of that is due to the ‘Revelatory Comet.’”

“What’s that?”

“I’m glad you asked me that, Spyke. A few years ago, thirteen hundred plus years from now, the Earth passed or passes through the tail of a sparkly comet. Well, what do you know? That enchanted comet dust lit a spark of inventive genius in many folks around the world. All kinds of wondrous contraptions have suddenly become commonplace. Inventors in my time have learned how to turn the stored energy of springs, into animating amazing clockwork mechanicals. If you boil water and capture the steam in a sealed environment, you will build up a pressure that can motivate all sorts of powerful machines. Electricity, that is, lightning that is made by Man, can be turned toward all sorts of uncanny devices.”

“That is incredible, Ichabod.”

“Yessir, Spyke, and more than that, I am one of the fortunate few that was stricken with the enlightening celestial fairy dust. I have quite a knack for invention and manufacture...”

“Hold that thought, Icky, here we are at the Great Hall.”

“Golly gee whillikers, Spyke, this room is a madhouse! I only thought I was in a loony bin before; now I know it!”

“Make yourself calm, Ichabod, the proceedings will roll around to you eventually.”

“There must be over a thousand people in here, not even including all the dogs and cats!”

“The goats will be in later to clean up.”

“Look at all the colourful satins and silks! Those ladies over there have those funny dunce caps and taffeta veils. I can tell by the rhythmic flapping of the tapestries that they hide happy couples. I ain’t never seen such a display of carousing and drinking and feasting.”

“Camelot prides itself on unparalleled carousing.”

“By that, I guess you mean the unabashed display of tender intimacies during a public function.”

“These are an affectionate people.”

“You’re right about that, Spyke.”

“Forsooth, Ichabod, for do not the dogs make merry in the center of the Table?”

“Yessir, in fact, all the activity seems to be centered around that great big table in the middle of the room. It ain’t like ordinary tables which are normally rectangular. No, this one is built in a very impractical circular design.”

“The king wishes to look upon all his knights equally, therefore he hath constructed his Round Table.”

“Is that the king over yonder? The big feller guzzling from a two gallon tankard?”

“Aye, that be King Arthur.”

“King Arthur! Then these must be the Knights of the Round Table!”

“You’re a little slow there Icky, but you’re catching on.”

“Golly, imagine that, me, Ichabod Temperance, an Alabama tinker in King Arthur’s Court.”

“Who’s the pretty little gal sitting next to him?”

“Our precious Queen, Guenevere.”

“Who is the overly masculine and ridiculously good looking fellow she keeps slipping discreet glances at?”

“Sir Launcelot, the finest knight that has ever lived.”

“Uh, hunh. How about giving me a quick run-down on a few of the more notable characters in this little assembly, like uh, who’s that big, grumpy dude?”

“That be Sir Gawain, forsooth.”

“The pitiful little fellow with the hatchet beak?”

“Sir Percival.”

“Big and bald?”

“The King’s step-brother, Sir Kay.”

“Mr. Low-Forehead pissy pants?”

“Sir Gufus.”

“The magnanimous fellow next to him?”

“His brother, Sir Gallant.”

“The peculiar, evil fellow with the waxed eyebrows, occult medallions, and suspicious glances?”

“Merlin the Magician.”

“I see many minstrels and servants at hand, but I do not understand the need for so many ladies at hand.”

“One never knows when a Knight will be stricken with a sudden need for carousing.”

“Oh.”

“Uh oh, don’t look now, Icky but it seemethest these blokes are about to break out in song.”

“Does that happen often around here?”

“Prithee, oh yeah.”

Ohhhhhhhh,

We are a handsome and deserving lot.

Our armour is shining,

tunics without a spot.

Let the world go hang,

we don’t give a rot,

we are the noble Knights of Camelot!

We fight senseless battles with impunity,

We are the epitome of nobility.

The finest examples of man you will ever see.

What a draggeth to be you,

Oh it’s so great to be me!

Ohhhhhhhh,

We are all strong men and body-able.

Our deeds shall surely go down in fable.

Our cupboard is always laden,

with plenty of willing maiden,

All the damsels love a Knight of the Round Table!

“Finally, it looks like the the proceeding of business is about to commence.”

“Hear me, my good Knights, I, King Arthur, beseech my Knights to extol their quests and adventures. Fill this lofty hall with thy tales of great deeds! First, we shall hear from the hearty and frothy Sir Meadley.”

“Prithee may my tale please my liege. I was tasked with a quest to free a lovely damsel from a tower prison where a giant, three-headed ogre held her captive.”

“Yea, a noble quest for a noble knight. I well remember the circumstances surrounding that dangerous affair. Did ye slay the giant?”

“Aye, my king, I didst knock the brute about, but enchantments had the monster come back at me again and again. In the end, I broke the creature over my knee and tore his castle down.”

“Well done, Sir Meadley! I knew I could count on you! Were you able to free the young maiden damsel trapped within?”

“Yes, my King, here she is.”

“The shrubbery, you say?”

“Yes, King Arthur, for lo, the child languishes under an enchantment.”

“Tsk, tsk. We’ll get her over the the magic laboratory and see if anything can be done.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“What of you, Sir BudKaiser? How didst thou fare with thy task?”

“My King, mine quest being fulfilled prithee in mighty and heroic fashion, as is the idiom of this great assembly. Truly I didst go forth to rescue
two
beautiful princesses that had been kidnapped, yon by Eavil weetch, forsooth.”

“Didst my fine knight fare as I may chance to hope?”

“Aye, my superb King Arthur, for surely though she conjured a despicable host of demon knights to assault me, yea, I struck them all down to the ground that I may tarry naughtte in the release of said princesses. In doing so, so too did I bring end to the weetch so Eavil.”

“Wert thou able to gain tribute unto this court?”

“Aye my English liege, my King Arthur, greatest of all kings, I present to the court, these dozen prisoner demons I have captured.”

“Your demons are a mixed lot, Sir BudKaiser. Prithee to gaze on their awful bodies. Yea, they have transformed themselves into human form!”

“Aye, King Arthur, for when I wrenched the armour from the foul creatures, these miserable slugs were lain bare to my merciless eyes.”

“And the weetch?”

“Shrubberized.”

“Throw these rascals into the dungeons! Next!”

“Sir Kegger of Oblivion on Avon!”

“Sire! I have failed in my quest!”

“Well, don’t feel too badly, Sir Kegger. Grailing be naughtte easy.”

“Aye.”

“Do I, your king, spy what appears to be an unusual prize with which to console my regal depression?”

“Aye, me lord. A horrible, mad, ogre was at loose on the lands! Quite close to this very castle! Verily, when I spied the awful creature I made to run it through with my spear but the coward didst scramble up a tree. Its peculiar appearance consternated me no end; therefore, I took the monster prisoner that I may present it to the court. Spyke, bring out the wretched little ogre.”

“Howdy, um, I mean, good afternoon, your grace, um, Mr. King Arthur, sir.”

“What a peculiar way of speech this thing has. What are those things he wears?”

“Aye, me lord, I have no answer for thee. They are troubling strange. These peculiar togges are made of fine quality for a peasant, though in an unpleasing dun-colour.”

“What of the roc egg it clings to?”

“This is my hat, sir. Back where I come from, we call it a ‘derby’.”

“Thy speech is a mystery to my ears. Where dost thou come from?”

“Alabama, sir. I’m a tinker by trade.”

“A tinker? What is this word?”

“I make things! I have a really keen knack for building all kinds of gizmos! I think I could do a lot of good...”

“Silence the beast! Heed the council of your wisest, most trusted servant, Merlin. I see disaster in this one!”

“Really, Merlin? The lad seems a harmless mouse to my eyes.”

“He art a Devil that tricketh thee, Sire!”

“Nossir, Mr. Merlin, sir! I’m a good boy! I only want to help folks!”

“Lies! Treachury! Blasphemies! I, Merlin, know what is best for the King! Throw this worm into the deepest dungeon until its execution at the earliest convenience!”

“Art thou sure, my trusty magician? He seems like a harmless little nobody to me.”

“It is his evil magic, Sire! Surely, this is a terrible wizard come to do calamitous sourceries! It cast a spell upon thee and the noble assembly! Remove its enchanted clothing and see the devil for what it truly is!”

“Hey, you four big tough guards, let me loose! What are y’all doing? Stop it, if you want my boots so bad, I’ll give ‘em to ya. The same for my coat. Hey, no! You cannot have my pants! Hey, or my shirt! Or my socks! Or my under shirt! No, no, no! You can’t take my...”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!”

“Quit laughing, y’all!”

“Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!”

“Oh, this is humiliating!”

“Har, har, har, har, har!”

“I have never seen legs like that before, my king.”

“Nor should I hope you ever would, my Queen Guenevere.”

“Y’all be nice and gimme back my pants!”

“Nyenh, henh, henh! You see? I Merlin, doth reveal this faquir for whaughtte he is. Thy pronouncement, King Arthur?”

“He may join the other prisoners in the dungeons. Now then, back to business. Onest, twoest, thrice...”

We ar-r-r-r-r-r-re

Knights of the Round Table!

Glory handed down in Fable!

We drink and fight,

all day and night,

and carouse when we are able!

“Oh, this ain’t no good. I was hoping that when I woke up, this would have all been a dream, but here I am, in this dank, wet, old dungeon, oh.”

“I don’t think I like these olden times worth a hoot. I wish I was back in 1877 where we have all sorts of modern amenities. When did Spyke say we was? 528? That date sounds familiar to me somehow. Oh yeah, Miss Plumtartt was wanting to go see the solar eclipse that is predicted for next year in North America. I think when I was looking into solar eclipses I remember this date being mentioned.”

“I wish I had Miss Plumtartt here to give me some advice. She told me the story about how Christopher Columbus got into a fix with a bunch of islanders in the West Indies. Seems like a trade pact was set up so that the islanders would provide food and water for Captain Columbus and his crew. That old rascal, Chris, he didn’t keep up his end of the bargain and the natives cut him off from his promised provisions. Well, what do you know, ‘C’ squared had him an almanac aboard ship. That primitive almanac predicted a full lunar eclipse for that very night! Columbus told the Indians that they had angered his God, and to show that he was upset, he would cause the moon to be ‘immersed in his wrath’. Sure ‘nough, the almanac was right! Those poor old natives went to whooping and lamentating like there was no tomorrow. Well, I reckon that is exactly what they were afraid of. That old Chris Columbus, he was a showman, boy. He played his hand to the hilt! When the natives came begging for mercy, he told them he would go to his cabin and pray to his God to relent and release the Moon. That inter-continental con-man went to his cabin and turned an hourglass. He knew to wait a full forty-eight minutes before telling the Indians that he had convinced his God to relent. The Moon then began to reappear.”

“I wonder if I could do like Christopher Columbus did and pull a fast one on these folks? The eclipse is supposed to sweep across England at exactly noon, June twenty-first, and last for about fifteen minutes. I’ll need to do like Christopher did and put a lot of moxxy on it.”

“Hey, I hear voices coming. This might be my one spot of hope.”

“Good morning, Ichabod. I just came by to see if you might care to partake of some weak, iffy, gruel.”

“Eh hem, I think not, uh, I mean, I think naughtte, young man. You see, I did not let on before, but I
am
a great and powerful wizzerd. More powerful even than that old phoney, Mr. Merlin!”

“
Eek!
Prithee, don’t speak those awful words! He will hear you and strike us down!”

“Fear not, I mean, naughtte, Spyke, for I am the more powerful magician! I am most displeased at being made to run around in this dungeon nekkid. To show I ain’t happy, and to show off my terrible might, I am even now, performing scary incantations that will blot out the Sun! Mark my words! Tomorrow, at High Noon, I shall make the Sun go completely black!”

“
Eek!
That is horrible!”

“Yes, Spyke, it is. Now run along and tell King Arthur at once! Convince him, Spyke, for I ain’t kidding!”

“Yes, oh great and powerful Ichabod!”

“Shoot, I didn’t know that little feller could move so fast! Well, that worked out just fine! I betcha I get myself set up in an important position after this little stunt gets around.”

“What if they don’t go for it? What if they just ignore that little Spyke feller and they just leave me here to rot? It might be cloudy tomorrow and nobody even notice the dang old eclipse no how.”

“Hey, I think I hear the pitter patter of Spyke’s little velvet shoes coming back.”

“Hey, Spyke, is that you?”

“Merry day, Ichabod! I have good news!”

“Is the King going to let me go?”

“No, of course not, sillikens, but you can stop with the incantations. There is no need to put out the Sun!”

“Hunh?”

“I told King Arthur what you were up to and he was lo upset!”

“As well he should be, I can well imagine.”

“Yes, but I had a marvelous plan!”

“What was that?”

“Well, to be honest, I have grown to like you, Icky, and I have no wish to see thee suffer, therefore, I told them that they should go ahead and kill you today, so as to spare the Sun! Ho, ho! They never suspected that I was really just trying to help end your own pitiful plight! You can stop all your incantations now at showing your displeasure and whatnaughtte. Thy suffering is soon to be at an end, good friend.”

“But, but, but...”

“Oh, I can see that you are overcome with emotion at my little display of thoughtful devotion and are now unable to speak due to the sweet emotions filling your heart. Even now, I must pry thine grubby little fingers from yon prison cell manacles and draggeth thee, lo, down these long corridors and up these narrow stone steps to exit into this large, open, bright and cheery courtyard full of nobles that enjoy seeing heretics burned at the stake.”

“Burned at the stake!”

“Yeah, just a little extra thrown in to cleanse you of any errant sins that might be trapped in your mortal shell.”

“Was that your idea too?”

“Oh, no, I don’t really go in for the agony and torture routine like so many of this lot do. I tried to have you sent to the Executioner, but my pleas fell on deaf ears, more’s the pity.”

“Thanks for trying, buddy.”

“Merry, t’was nothing.”

“Dang, there’s a lot of folks, here, ain’t there?”

“T’is only natural. Stake-burning is a popular thing, don’t you know. Merry, good, clean, wholesome fun that the entire family can enjoy.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Merry, t’is all the rage, forsooth.”

“I reckon I’m going to get tied to that big old piling sunk in the ground.”

“Merry but you are a bright boy! Here we are, just put your back to the post, Icksi. Are the bonds affixing you solidly in place too tight?”

“No, they’re not too loose, and not too tight. I reckon you got ‘em just about right Spyke. Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome, Icky. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, I reckon you got me fixed about as well as a body could be fixed. Oh well, so long Spyke.”

“Fare thee well, Ichabod. I don’t suppose that will be for very long, though.”

“Here come a bunch of folks toting faggots. I mean, bundles of wood! Bundles of wood! Here come folks carrying bundles of wood! Oh, wait, we’re in England. It’s okay.”

“Nyeh, henh, henh, King Arthur, please allow, me, your most trusted advisor, the Great Merlin, to ignite the flames that will extinguish this nasty little sorcerer from our midst.”

“Oh, Merlin, you know I can’t say no to thee. Prithee, knocketh thy self undone.”

“Nyeh, henh, henh! Thank you, your Majesty!”

“That sure is a mean cackle you got, Mr. Merlin, sir. You sure do fling yourself about with reckless abandon as you gesticulate madly in the casting of your spell. I must say you exhibit a lot more enthusiasm for this modern interpretive dancing than I would have figured you for. I can see how your audience would have difficulty in spotting your surreptitious tossing of volatile smelling powder on the pyre.”

“Harken, Arthur my King, and thou shalt hear our Merlin chant his mystic spell.”

“Ha! Thank you, Guenevere my Queen, of course. Everyone shusheth, so that we may listen to Merlin’s words.”

Phauzzee, whauzzee,

Whauzzah bhierre.

Phauzzee, whauzzee,

Hhaudde knjo Hhairre.

Phauzzee, Whauzzee,

Wuzzint-veh Rifhuzzee,

Whauzzee!

“Hey, I saw that! You’re cheating, Mr. Merlin! You had a little sparker device stashed up your sleeve that you are surreptitiously using to spark this eclectic funeral pyre.”

~spark~
~Ploophee!~

“Ooh!
Ahhh
.”

“
Eek!
After all that colourful smoke has cleared away, I can now see actual flames flickering around me!”

“Sire, we forgot to read the proclamation over this ghastly ogre.”

“Dear me, you are correct. I suppose even a monarch such as myself gets in a hurry when a good ‘burn at the stake’ is going on. I find myself getting caughtte up in the thrill of the event and sometimes wish to rush through protocol. Pray forgive me. Read this miscreant’s death sentence.”

“Hear ye, hear ye, all in attendance at this convening of King Arthur’s Court, this day of 528, June, the twenty-first, having been judged...”

“Hey, wait a second! Did you say that today was the twenty-first of June, 528?”

“Do not interrupt this proceedings with your dribbling comments, you little babblenaughtte! Be silent while you burn at the stake. Show a bit of decorum, boy.”

“But I thought it was the twentieth! What time is it?”

“Mid-day.”

“That’s the same as noon! Noon is the same as twelve o’clock! Oh my Goodness, I mean, hey, y’all better cut me loose or I’m going to blot out the Sun!”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!”

“It ain’t nice to laugh at me in a mocking and derisive manner while I’m burning to death, y’all!”

“Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!”

“I ain’t kidding around! Y’all better cut me a loose or I’m going to smother up the Sun. Your crops and your land will wither and die under my merciless curse forever and ever unless you cut me loose this very instant!”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!”

“Prithee, dost thou sense the Sun beneath thine feet? Oh how I jest! It is the flames of your redemption.”

“Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!”

“Merry, is it I, or is there a definite abundance of golden sunshine?”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!”

“Would that this impostor wizard did have the power to alleviate the Sun’s unending assault, for the cruel beams vex me so.”

“Ho, ho, ho,...”

“Eek!”

“What calls a cry of alarm from your noble throat, Sir Lee-Naeulium?”

“Do mine eyes deceive me, or does a sliver of the Sun naughtte appear to be obscured by encroaching darkness?”

Hokus Pocus,

Abber-cadabber,

To blot the Sun,

With paint I’ll dab her.

“
Eek!
The weetch has cast its foul curse!”

“That’s right! I am in the process of plunging all of England into eternal night! You all better get on the hoof and turn me loose right now or your fair land has had it!”

“Release him, King Arthur!”

“Hey, y’all be careful and do not look directly at the Sun, as you are likely to damage your eyes. Try poking a hole in a bit of paper, or uh, parchment, and then hold another piece beneath that you may safely monitor the progress of your own ruination.”

“It is true! The Sun is slowly but surely being blotted out of the sky, right before our collective astonished eyes! Save us, King Arthur! Release the great magician!”

“Yes, save us, King Arthur! Free this powerful wizard lest he smite us with ruinous magics!”

“Of course, this action must be done at once! I, Arthur Pendragon, do hereby release...”

“No, do not spare the beast! The burning will stop the enchantment!”

“That ain’t true Mr. Merlin! Burning me will seal your fate forever and ever and ever and ever...!”

“My magic is stronger than yours! I can stop this disaster with my own counter-spell!”

“Dang it, Mr. King Arthur, sir, you better not fall for this old rascal’s shenanigans! All his whooping, hollering, and carrying on ain’t gonna save your Kingdom! I command that the Sun go completely black!”

“
Eek!
Surely this wizard is far more powerful than our Merlin! Release him, oh King!”

“No!”

“Ouchee!”

“I, King Arthur command! Release the weetch! Pull back the gathered wood! Oh, ogre-wizard, spare us, the land is now as dark as midnight!”

“That was a close thing, but I reckon I’m going to be all right, now that the fire ain’t scorching my nose hairs and I’m cut free.”

“Please, oh master wizard, return us our Sun! Ask anything you want and it will be yours.”

“Gimme some dang pants, please!”

“Let the magician be robed as is fitting the highest magician in the land.”

“But Sire...!”

“Silence, Merlin!”

“Oh, King Arthur, the stars are visible in the middle of the day! Save us!”

“What dost thou want, oh great wizard?”

“Um, my own wizzerd workshop!”

“Done, man!”

“And you said I have more clout around here than this boy, Mr. Merlin?”

“Yes!”

“Um, well, I reckon y’all have suffered with enough gnashing of teeth and pitiful lamentations and so forth. Now you all got to keep in mind that this is a big old process, right? It takes a minute to get her going and it takes a minute to...”