In which our hero discovers the perils of pondering too profoundly…
—2—
Some things in this world simply cannot be understood by the mere mortal minds of men. Why does the capriciousness of the gods look just like the capriciousness of kings? Why do politicians lie? Why would a man not marry a sweet, beautiful, and fabulously wealthy woman? Women, on the other hand, seem to always understand. It’s enough to make one wonder if their femininity imbues them with an immortality out of the reach of those of the masculine gender.
When I accepted this job, I had not pondered the latter question. I had merely responded to my raging emotions at the affront of Queen Meredith hiring Gremnik, my archnemesis. Now that my compatriots and I had been walking for half a day, I pondered. Neither Roderick nor Ne’er-Be-Hung Nick nor myself could provide any answers for the questions we had mulled and ruminated. The wit of Lady Belinda, on the other hand, was displayed for all.
“Why do you question the gods’ capriciousness when I am saddled with three imbeciles asking silly questions?” We winced and ducked. She marched in front of us gesticulating with wild waves of her cutlass. As I have often said, the only thing more dangerous than an angry woman is an angry woman wielding a sword. Especially a woman whose prowess with a weapon is eclipsed only by yours truly.
I suppose I should elucidate for the faithful readers of my exploits. When traversing highways and byways on a quest to rescue a damsel in distress, the truly legendary knight expects to encounter danger, destruction, and death. One’s path always treads through dark demon-infested forests or dim, desolate ravines. Peril is one’s constant companion. The rewards of overcoming said peril are glory, gold, and, when one is truly legendary, the heart of said girl.
What my compatriots and I soon discovered is, however, there is a reason rescuing dudes in distress is an unprofitable business. Nary a single monster crawled out of the ground to attack us. Nor did a legion of bandits leap to ambush us. The forest proved to be a lovely woodland and the ravine a charming valley. The highways and byways traveled in a rather straight and wide path. Even now, the capacious road we marched along gently wound through fields of daisies and buttercups towards Prince Jack’s pearly white castle in the distance. While Lady Belinda might have secretly had hopes of winning the prince’s heart, Roddy, Nick and myself were left to ponder what hope of gold and glory awaited us when faced with such paucity of peril.
Lady Belinda suddenly wheeled and we skidded, as the tip of her steely cutlass was mere inches from our necks.
“I ask you again. Why ask such silly questions? Is this or isn’t this a straightforward rescue? Is there or is there not a tidy pile of gold awaiting us?”
We all sighed heavily. (At least we would have liked to, but a truly heavy sigh would have resulted in the pricking of my Adam’s apple, since her cutlass’s tip was closest to my neck. As it was, our heavy sighs were little more than involuntary gasps. Highly embarrassing for a knight of my stature!)
“All too true,” muttered Ne’er-be-Hung Nick, his voice bereft of its usual jollity. Even Lady Belinda appeared startled by his bereftness. Her cutlass swung away from my neck and settled beneath Nick’s.
“What do you mean?” she asked very slowly. As in the type of slowly where each word is rather long and uncomfortable gaps hang silently between each syllable.
No doubt I should expound. In my four years in the rescuing business, I have faced such spoken gaps seven times. Each previous instance has preceded a most unfortunate turn of events due to a most unfortunate misunderstanding of my intentions. If one recalls my warning about the fragility of oversized egos, one should understand why our lives hung precariously. I needed to measure my response most carefully.
“Lady Belinda, oh most mighty warrior of long legs, golden tresses, and cigarillos, my compatriots speak of the ease of our road and the lack of danger thus faced. In no way is this a comment of a negative nature on the adroitness of your swordplay or the elegance of your efforts to rescue Prince Jack. It is simply that our reputation relies on overcoming menace and peril whilst rescuing damsels in distress.”
“And there’s no glory in rescuing a dude in distress,” groused Roderick more gloomily than ever.
For one more moment, her cutlass’s tip dangled dangerously before she sighed and sheathed her sword.
“Men and their infantile need for glory,” she snarled, although there were no teeth behind her bluster. She waved her arms. “Do you think it’s easy being a woman warrior? All anyone sees are my long legs and golden tresses! Never a word about my moxie or muscles! I’ve tried to get on Monday Night Gladiators for three years, but have you seen the armor they want a woman to wear? ‘More cleavage, dearie,’ they say salaciously. ‘Bare that midriff! Show off those legs!’ You boys get offered nice shiny armor! All I get is more flesh, flesh, and flesh!!”
That was when the geyser spouted. Most gents would attribute the flow of tears to her feminine nature. They would be idiots. Lesson #2 about big egos: when they break, expect a burst of bawling, bewailing, and blubbering. Gender is irrelevant. Lesson #3: Look anywhere other than at the one whose oversized ego has just breached, especially up at the sky or down at the ground, which will allow one to not meet your compatriots’ eyes. Whistling a soundless tune also helps one pretend one is not noticing the lamentations. After a few minutes of ignorance, the ego will patch itself, sniffle twice, and announce it’s time to move on.
Lady Belinda sniffled three times (it was a serious breakage of ego) then announced, “What are you idiots standing around for? We’ve got an easy road to travel and a prince to rescue!”
I wish the gods in their wisdom had granted me a moment to warn Lady Belinda to never utter such a phrase, not when one is a valiant adventurer! Allow this allocution to be a lesson for all young aspiring adventurers: Never utter any utterance to which the phrase “Famous Last Words” might be applied!
Unfortunately, the gods chose this moment to unleash their capriciousness.
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