Today, I present you with the first episode of the follow-up to A Princess Problem and more of Sir Roger’s misadventures…
—1—
The Blackmore Tavern is not the world’s safest place.
By now, I should know better, having experienced a multitude of mishaps and misadventures within that heinous den. Alas, I had the misfortune of crossing its threshold once more.
With a deep breath and a final pat of my chipped-yet-still-trusty Craftsman™ broadsword, I ducked beneath the swinging sign of a faded minstrel’s lute and into the smoky din. My eyes carefully scanned the motley crowd for my contact—reportedly a hag of some repute—before spotting a tall black hat, its pointed end bent at an appropriately jaunty angle. If I had not needed gold so badly for a new sword I would have never stooped so low but wishes only paid the piper when I fulfilled someone else’s dream. This hag’s dream should cover the costs of a Legendary Spring Steel Broadsword with Differential Hardening©.
It truly is an issue when the manufacturer of your broadsword, with their lifetime guarantee promise, sells their rights. I had suddenly discovered I could no longer walk into any blacksmith’s shop and expect to have my blade sharpened. Instead, I was forced to endure catcalls and jeers. Tonight was no exception.
“Well, if it ain’t Sir Chippy!” bellowed the most hated voice in the universe. I gritted my teeth, squared my massive shoulders, and tromped through the packed tavern towards the dark corner where the hag awaited, but my most hated rival would not relent.
“Look at the homely coward, boys,” brayed the hated voice. It belonged to a squat, blue-skinned Brimulung who didn’t even reach my chin when I was sitting. An ugly bastard with two massive warts on one cheek and a foot-long handlebar mustache, Gremnik is, I must admit, as handy with his axe as I am with my trusty broadsword.
“Is the big baby going to sulk in the corner?” taunted a runt of a sidekick.
At this point, I turned and growled, hoping that this would not escalate into another brawl with my rival. If I was to ever afford a Legendary Spring Steel Broadsword with Differential Hardening©, I had to keep my cool to get the contract. I could not risk being thrown out of the Blackmore Tavern. Not again!
“Gremmy,” I snarled in my deepest, quietest rumble, hoping the hag wouldn’t notice the gibes, “Do I need to once more decapitate your companions to shut you up?” I delivered a steely blue eyes glare at the half-dozen cohorts while my hand gripped my trusty broadsword.
Unfortunately, teasing him with the nickname he hated above all others did not work. Instead, he chortled.
“You can’t fool us, Chippy. We all know the condition of your sword. It couldn’t decapitate a mouse!”
My fists balled, knowing he was right. I really needed a new sword, but I could not let these challenges to my manhood stand. I quickly calculated the order in which I would need to punch the sidekicks to successfully take them out before they could stand. Unfortunately, my manhood was saved in the worst possible way. A woman stepped in.
Ruby has been the featured serving wench pinup in Knights Illustrated’s annual calendar for as long as I can remember, alongside beautiful princesses, witches, and shieldmaidens. Privy walls throughout Solvang are etched with “I Kissed Ruby” as if it’s a ritual of manhood. As far as I know, the Blackmore Tavern would lack half of its notoriety if not for Ruby’s flowing golden tresses and tight burgundy bodice that left little to a young male’s imagination.
Before I could finish my calculations, Ruby was pinching the largest of Gremnik’s warts while all his sidekick’s eyes were focused on her, uhm, bodice.
“Aggghhh!!” squealed my squat rival like a little girl.
Ruby nodded at me. My cheeks burned in embarrassment, no doubt now as red as her name. I do not like this recent trend in my life of being rescued by females, but what choice did I have but to obey and move to the back corner where the hag awaited me?
As I sat, all I could see beneath the woman’s wide brim was a long nose just as pointed and crooked as her hat. A particularly fine wart rested on the tip, with several dark hairs curling out of its core.
Her extraordinary proboscis was not all that welcomed me. A corncob pipe jutted out as well. The bowl glowed orange as she sucked noisily on the stem. For a moment, her face blossomed in the faint light. All I could see, I’m afraid, were wrinkles as deep as a volcano’s fissures.
“So you’ve come,” she croaked in a scratchy rasp that would have made a hedgehog cringe. “I hope I haven’t made a mistake…” She let the sentence hang, glancing past my shoulder. I turned to see where she was looking and cringed. Ruby sashayed towards our table. As I said, the rescue of a mighty warrior such as me by a buxom serving wench progresses one’s reputation in one direction only, and that is not forward!
Ruby plopped a large tankard in front of me. Foam sloshed over the top.
“Your usual, Sir Roger,” she cooed in her deep sultry voice. “This one’s on the house,” she added with a nod towards Gremnik. I risked a quick glance. The squat Brimulung’s blue skin was purple. At least his manhood was as embarrassed as mine.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
The buxom serving wench leaned close and whispered in my ear.
“Are you ready yet to be kissed by Ruby?”
“Ummm…” I mumbled. The truth was I had badly fumbled my first effort as a fresh knight to join the long list of strutting young scoundrels who could spout “I Kissed Ruby.” Ever since, she has thus taunted me. My lips had yet to meet hers.
She slapped my buttocks with a chortle before sashaying away. My face burned. This night was definitely not going well. I could only hope the hag’s job would offer me some measure of redemption.
The hag cackled, a squawk that must have drawn every eye in the tavern. The room echoed with sniggers. I slunk in my stool but did not run out. It may have been the lowest moment in my career, but I desperately needed that Legendary Spring Steel Broadsword with Differential Hardening©.
“Well, then,” she clucked hoarsely, “to business.” She reached beneath her witch’s robe and pulled out a tiny-yet-bulging leather bag tightly tied. “Here’s your down payment, as promised.”
“What’s the job?” I tried to ask as manfully as possible, which was rather challenging while slinking down on my stool. I forced myself to sit up straight and regain a modicum of professionalism.
“Do you think me ugly?” the hag croaked, then waved a hand. “Don’t answer that. Of course you do. I do not wish to burden you with false politeness. The truth is, until recently, I was a beautiful princess.”
That, of course, made me sit up straight. Rescuing a beautiful princess from such a hideous fate is very much in line with my preferred line of work.
She crowed. “Got your attention, did I? My story is long and sad, but the short of it is my prince, on the eve of our wedding, was charmed by another woman.”
I nodded sagely, having heard such a tale before.
“Ah, you think you know all, do you? But it was not a woman such as you would expect. It was a frog.”
“A…frog?” I asked most incredulously.
She nodded, her shoulders sagging. “A rival princess who’d been turned into a frog. At least, she promised my prince she was beautiful and rich. All she needed was a kiss from him. Foolish man! Of course, I would not have any of that nonsense! Unfortunately, I was unaware of the curse placed on her.”
“A…curse? I asked quite quizzically.
“A vile, ruthless spell. Mine bounced off her and struck not only my prince, but myself. He turned into a mighty bullfrog and I turned into this!” She spread her arms wide.
“A…hag?” I asked hesitantly.
She puffed on her corncob pipe, her teeth grinding loudly, until a haze blurred the air between us.
“Of course, you idiot! But there’s more. My prince hopped away with the frog wench. Now you must find him and bring him back to me.”
“You want him back?”
She banged her corncob pipe over my head. I winced.
“Of course, you nitwit! If I don’t kiss him, my curse won’t be broken, and I will remain an ugly hag!”
I reached out and took the tiny bag.
“Do you have any idea where they went?”
She nodded.
“There is only one swamp that would accept magically transformed frogs. The Fens of Crthlus.”
I shuddered but rose to my feet. Those fens were not a very nice place, but what choice did I have? My future as a knight armed with a Legendary Spring Steel Broadsword with Differential Hardening© was at stake!
Bowing low, I uttered as professionally as possible, “It shall be done, your highness. You have my word.”
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