John Lenahan - Prince of Hazel and Oak

‘Ow. Why did you do that?’

‘Because you’re stupid.’

‘Oh,’ he said, looking at his feet, ‘I know that.’

‘No, you don’t. Let me ask you something? How many creatures can you turn into?’

‘I would guess two score.’

‘And every time you failed you tried again and learned another animal?’

‘Yes, I have been alive for a very long time.’

‘A lesser man would have given up long ago. You have shown determination and fortitude beyond any of your people.’

He shrugged again – a habit I was determined to break him of.

‘You have to admit it.’

‘Well, I guess.’

‘You must be the hardest-working member of a race that was saved from extinction because of you. If I ever hear you speak badly about yourself it won’t be your arm I punch – it’ll be your nose.’

The way he looked at me made me wonder if anyone in his hundreds of years had ever spoken to him this way. A smile started in the corners of his mouth and he whispered, ‘OK.’

‘OK?’ I said louder.

‘Yes,’ he said, standing.

I started to stand up with him when he popped back down, grabbed my arm and shushed me again. Then he performed his owl head trick. When his head was normal-sized again he leaned in close and whispered, ‘Get Yogi. We have company.’

I woke up the bear as casually as I could and then the three of us sat around the fire pretending we weren’t being watched. Tuan passed around a bottle filled with water that we swigged as if it was moonshine. Tuan patted Yogi on the back and then dropped his head on his shoulder in what looked like a display of drunken camaraderie. In reality they were making a plan. Yogi got up and staggered to a nearby tree to relieve himself and Tuan laughingly told him to go further away. When he was under the right tree Tuan slapped me on the back and whispered in my ear, ‘Are you armed?’

‘I have one of Dahy’s throwing blades in my sock.’

‘Let us hope you have no need to use it.’

As he was speaking his head shrank down into his collar and those downy white feathers sprouted again. He leaned his whole body back (since his neck no longer tilted up and down), pointed to a space in the tree above Yogi and let loose a screech that made my blood run cold. It was like something out of a cheap horror movie. When I looked to see what Yogi was doing, he wasn’t there. In his place was a pile of clothes. Yogi, now fully a bear, was climbing with lightning speed. Once in the tree there was a lot of screaming and growling combined with Tuan’s screeching and pointing. I couldn’t see much and didn’t have a clue what was going on. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of a falling, screaming Brownie. Yogi climbed down so fast that I thought he was falling too. Tuan, now normal-headed, and I ran to the crumpled Brownie but just as we reached him, Yogi Bear came towards him roaring and we both backed off. The bear picked up the fallen Brownie and gripped him in what I can only describe as a bear hug.

‘Come down,’ Tuan shouted to the treetops, ‘and I will try to convince my cousin not to eat your friend.’

We waited for a half a minute. ‘Oh well,’ Tuan said, gesturing to Yogi, ‘enjoy your meal.’

The Brownie was comatose with fear; he didn’t even whimper as Yogi opened his jaws wide enough to eat him whole.

‘I have a crossbow aimed at you all!’ a squeaky voice hollered from the dark. The second Brownie it seemed had jumped to another tree and was now shouting to us from the forest to our right.

Tuan stepped slowly away. ‘And just how can you have one bolt aimed at all of us?’ he shouted into the dark. ‘If you shoot me it will not save your friend. If you shoot the bear then you will only succeed in making him angry.’

From the shadows a man, tall even for a Brownie, appeared. I find it so difficult to judge the age of Brownies, they all look like kids to me, but the way this guy carried himself, I suspected that he had been in sticky situations before. He stepped slowly towards us with his crossbow levelled at Tuan. ‘Then I choose to shoot you.’

‘You could try,’ Tuan said with equal coolness, ‘but that would not help your companion.’

Yogi roared again. I felt sorry for his poor captive as bear slobber dripped down the side of his face.

‘Tell the bear to release him or I drop you,’ the Brownie said.

‘Put away your weapon and we can talk,’ Tuan replied. ‘There is no reason why anyone should be injured here.’

The Brownie in Yogi’s arms tried to say something but the bear covered his face with his arm. All that came out were a couple of muffled yelps.

The one with the crossbow nervously glanced from Tuan to Yogi but never took his aim from the Pooka prince. ‘The one that is soon to be injured is you, Pooka.’

‘I really do not think that will be the case,’ Tuan said at almost the exact moment that Essa materialised behind the armed Brownie. With an upward flick of her banta stick she hit underneath the crossbow, sending a singing bolt flying into the night sky. A micro-second later, the other end of the stick cracked him on the neck and he went down onto his knees. Araf appeared out of the darkness and hogtied the would-be assassin with a scarf. Brendan, relaxing his grip on his bow, and Turlow, sporting his Banshee blade, also stepped into the campfire light.

Yogi placed his captive in a one-armed headlock and slipped his athru disc into his mouth. I’m not sure what scared the poor little guy more: being almost eaten by a bear or instantly discovering that he was in a wrestler’s hold with a naked guy. Tuan relieved Yogi of his captive while he went back under the tree and put his clothes back on. The two night stalkers were plopped in front of the fire. Araf asked them if they were injured, but they weren’t talking.

‘Well,’ I said, rubbing my hands together, ‘it seems we have guests. Tea anyone?’ I addressed the Brownies. ‘I suspect you two would like willow, yes?’

The tall one glared at me then said, ‘The alders will report that you have us captive. You will be surrounded by the King’s men in hours.’

‘Good,’ Brendan said. ‘It’s about time we received an escort. This guy here, he’s Prince Conor of Duir. Him and him are Princes Tuan and Araf of Pine and Heather?’ Brendan looked to the princes to check if he got it right; they nodded and smiled. ‘And the girl that clocked you in the head, she is Princess Essa from the boozy Vinelands and oh yeah – over there is The Turlow. I’m pretty sure he outranks everybody.’

‘And who are you?’ the increasingly worried-looking Brownie asked.

‘I’m a cop and you, pal – are very busted. Personally I’m surprised that you want the trees to tell. If I had been rumbled in my own backyard by a bunch of royal hoity-toities and then laid out by a girl, I’d maybe not want my boss to know about it.’

The Brownie started to say something but Brendan interrupted him.

‘On the other hand if you call your boss and tell him that you have met the royal entourage and are escorting them to Castle Alderland, then I suspect my fellow travellers would be delighted to have you along.’

Brendan looked around; everyone shrugged and nodded yes.

The tall Brownie was no dummy. It only took him about a second for the truth of what Detective Fallon was saying to sink in. Despite the panic in his eyes his voice was incredibly calm. ‘May I speak with the alder, please?’

Araf untied him and he walked quickly over to the tree. Araf released the smaller one too and I handed him a cup of willow tea that he took with appreciation.

When he returned from speaking to the tree, the tall Brownie approached the fire and bowed. ‘My name is Dell of the King’s guard,’ he said formally. ‘Welcome to the Alderlands. It is my duty and pleasure to escort you to Fearn Keep.’