The Knave

When I arrived at the battlefield the fighting was all but over. A lone man stood over his last dying enemy, wrenching a sword from his fallen foe's gut. Though he whispered, I heard the words clearly;

"That's for Sheagle, you son of a beagle."

I couldn't help but re-utter the name, "Sheagle?" The word brought to mind a female eagle.

He turned abruptly. A war cry and he was lifting the bloodied sword in my direction.

"Woah! I surrender, dude!" I held my hands up, showing I was unarmed and absolutely no threat.

He looked me over. "Are you the one...the wizard said would come?"

"Uh, yeah," I replied, hoping it was the right answer.

He sheathed the sword. "I am Hector, protector of the nectar in this sector."

I lowered my hands. "I'm Crotalus. You, uh ... protect nectar?"

He waved his hands at the blood stained fields around us. "All that is sweet, fair, and wholesome...is mine to defend, from here on down to...Folsom?" He grimaced on the last word.

"Dude, what's with the rhyming?"

He frowned and seemed about to cry. "A spell is upon me, a curse oh so vile...has stolen my beloved and left my tongue beguiled." He began to sob hideously.

"And that makes you sad," I observed.

He pulled a handkerchief from his armor, wiped his eyes, and nodded. "This scrap of white cloth from her garment was rent. Now I use it to soak up my tears of lament." He held it out to me.

"What?" I said. "I sympathize and all, but uh... I really don't need a hanky right now."

"It's for your pouch, you witless slouch."

"Oh." I took out the crown royal bag and opened it. Hector blew his nose on the cloth before shoving it in.

Man, I hope I'm not going to have to touch this stuff.

"Thanks," I said. "But I'm curious. What happened to your beloved? Uh, Sheagle was it?"

A faraway look came over his face. "Jealous of my Sheagle, so fair and oh so sweeta ... another maid betrayed her--that horrid Gollumita!"

"Betrayed her?" I asked.

"And slayed her," he said.

"Man, that's heavy."

"As a ... Chevy," he said, grimacing again.

And I realized I was only torturing him by talking. For, whatever I said, he was forced to rhyme with or to answer in a rhyme. But still I had to know more.

"Why this battle? What happened here?"

"Gollumita's minions defiling the land. I slew them all with this sword in my hand." Then he realized he'd put the sword away, so he pulled it out hastily as if to show it to me.

"Oh, okay. Well I'm off to find Gollumita. Thanks for the handkerchief. I'm sure it will be of some...help...use... something."

"Farewell Crotalus, you valiant hero. May you find Gollumita and reduce her days to...zero." He frowned at that and began to walk away, shaking his head and crying quietly.

I turned toward the east. Or what I thought was east. For no other reason than it had always been my favorite direction. I started humming an old Iron Maiden tune as I stepped around the thousands of dead bodies and headed toward the setting sun.

I hoped to get far away before the bodies started to stink.