The scene: On the high hill overlooking the valley
Light snow fell on a brilliant morning.
OFG's battle line stretched wide on the high hill. The war engines
were being rolled into place as the archers were being moved into
position. Col Ti avoided her hard eyes and stood just behind OFG, at
her side.
He had received a brutal dressing down
for his part in the fight with her guest the previous night. Many of
his men had been sent to the brig for the brawl, including Lucky who
turned out to be the worst of the lot. Lucky's conduct had been so
unbecoming that he would be confined for several weeks. Col Ti winced
at the embarrassment he'd caused his liege, but smiled quietly to
himself thinking of a few blows he'd justly delivered to Bourbon of
the Red.
“How's that jaw, Colonel?” Asked
OFG flatly
Col Ti cleared his throat and stood
taller to attention wondering how she knew what he was thinking.
“Fine, Sir.”
The field was rippling with activity.
Messengers rode from all directions providing updates and delivering
orders. The enemy could be heard moving in the distance. Several
cohorts had been sent to flush out the enemy from deep within the
forest.
Bourbon of the Red and his men were in
formation on the right flank in the lower ground. The giant warrior
wore the head of a massive pig as his war helmet and a huge red hog
hide as his cloak. The tusks and knuckle bones of many defeated pigz
hung around his neck. In Bourbon's hand was his Schweinehammer. The
like had not been seen in the land in a hundred generations. He alone
could wield it, such was the size of the war hammer. The staff of the
much feared Schweinehammer was as tall as Bourbon and the stone
attached to it weighed as much as a calf. He had been known to
unhorse a man with a single blow. On his belt he wore a dagger of
unexpected beauty which belied its awful deeds.
Some of Bourbon's men were still drunk
from the night before. This intensified their howling rage as they
whipped themselves up into their battle frenzy. Their war cries
pierced the morning and ran shivers down the spines of some of the
younger war hens. Bourbon's men were said to be the most courageous
in the known world and would not break formation under pain of death.
Col Ti bellowed orders and moved the
war hens into position. OFG gave an encouraging nod to the young
speckled hen who replaced old Franhilde as her standard bearer. Young
Ginny had never seen battle and was awestruck by the great spectacle.
“Stay with me,” OFG told the young hen assuredly, “and keep the
standard raised. At all costs.” Ginny nodded nervously but set her
jaw. She would not fail. Overhead a pair of hawks screamed into the
wind.
“Col Ti,” Commanded OFG, her blood
hot, “It is time. Cry havoc and let slip the hens of war!”
At his signal the drums began the
cadence which was taken up by the war hens all beating their swords
against their shields. The sound was deafening and it filled the
great valley. Bourbon of the Red strode forward swinging his mighty
Schweinehammer and calling the pigz to battle. Col Ti raced up and
down the battle line and howled his terrible war cry, rallying the
war hens.
The great beasts screamed their mighty
retort and thundered toward the battle line. The ground and trees
shook as the pigz hurled themselves forward. The fearsome pigz
charged out of the underbrush, wild with fear and dread and
bloodlust. The battle was about to be joined.
Suddenly a massive black horse sailed
over the battle lines darkening the sky and landed just in front of
OFG. She immediately recognized the mysterious horse and rider who
seemed to appear out of nowhere. OFG turned to shout, “Hold the
line! Hold the line! Keep your positions! Col Ti! Hold those men!”
The rider slipped silently from the
saddle. He boldly stepped toward the charging pigz, first at a steady
walk as he judged the distance, then faster running to meet his foe,
soon the big man raced forward, drew forth his bow, and the mighty
assassin smote the first beast with a single shot. The great pig
tumbled into a heap. Stunned, the war hens behind him gasped, then
the air was full of the loud victory cheer, “Huz-zah!”
To the beat of the war hen's swords on
shields the big man continued his charge. The second pig lowered his
head, screamed his rage, and met the challenge. OFG could barely
breath as she watched the two large figures race toward each other.
The big man ran, seemingly unaware of the huge pig's horrible
ferocity, and without great effort he thusly felled that pig also.
The pig bellowed one last bloodcurdling scream and then lay still.
The big man turned and faced OFG. And
there he stood as the war hens rushed forward. Bourbon and his men
charged also and made sure that each pig got hence to its miserable
death.
In the ensuing chaos and jubilant
cheers of victory the big man walked slowly toward OFG. He slung his
bow over his shoulder as he crossed the battle grounds. Standing
before her he took her face in his hands, pressed his forehead to
hers, and then walked away without saying a word. She watched him
take the reins from his companion, mount the large black horse, and
he disappeared back into the great forest like an apparition. His
dark companion trotted behind him. And then they were gone.
OFG was aware of pounding footsteps and
looked up to see Princess Kai and Zander rounding the bend at great
speed. They had been leading the right flank in the woods behind the
pigz. Kai tried to push past OFG, looking around wildly. “Was he
here?” Kai desperately cried. “My father, was he here? Where is
he?”
“He's gone, Kai.” OFG gestured
toward the forest. “He's gone. You know it has to be this way.”
Explained OFG holding the young princess by the shoulders. Kai shook
loose and took a few steps toward the forest but knew it was too
late. She had searched the countryside before for the big man. He
could not be found nor tracked by any means.
“But,” Kai started to say as
useless tears started to fall on her shining battle armor, “...he
never even....” And then she wept openly.
Leaving his sister to her private
grief, Zander followed OFG down to the battlefield. Whatever warmth
had been in her eyes while the big man was there was now gone. She
yelled orders and directed the troops as she made her way down the
hillside. In the cold morning the smoke from the blood soaked ground
rose hazily.
Bourbon of the Red was standing
victoriously over the carcass of one of the slain beasts. A great
“huzzah” rang out when he ran his dagger down the belly of one of
the pigz, reached into the great maw, and pulled out the heart of the
evil brute. He held it aloft for all to see, all the while singing a
great victory song in his native language.
About them the ducks and hens had
started the process of hauling the carcasses up the hill to the Great
Hall. Huge carts of bloodwine were being brought down to the
battlefield for the victorious warriors as the work parties prepared
for the great harvest at the top of the hill. Bourbon's men had
released the horrible heads from the pig carcasses and had hoisted
them onto great pikes as a sign of victory.
The young dark prince sat quietly
looking up at the gruesome sightless eyes. All around him was the
activity of triumph. The great carts were loaded and the war hens had
taken up the ropes, straining to pull the spoils of war up the hill.
Behind him Zander could hear Col Ti barking orders and the creaking
of the wheels as the carts started to lurch forward.
The pup sat, still carefully studying
the pigz heads. The ghastly eyes still held the terror of their
defeat and blood dripped in pools at the base of the posts on which
they were mounted. Zander took this all in. “Soon,” He thought to
himself, “Soon this victory will be mine.”
In the distance he heard his mother
calling to him, “Zan-der.... Zaaaaan-der.....”
He turned to go, then looked back once
more at the pig trophies, threw back his head and for the first time
howled his war cry.
and also followed along with my friend David the Gastronomic Gardener and voila - bacon! Don't think you can make bacon? Yes you can!
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