Authors: The Enchanted Island of Yew
"Not now," said Prince Marvel, with a smile. "It will please you to
desire in vain to hear a tale I will not tell. Yet I promise that on
the day we part company I shall inform you who I am."
The adventurers gave no heed to the path they followed after leaving
the cave of the reformed thieves, but their horses accidentally took
the direction of the foot-hills that led into the wild interior Kingdom
of Spor. Therefore the travelers, when they had finished their
conversation and begun to look about them, found themselves in a
rugged, mountainous country that was wholly unlike the green plains of
Heg they had left behind.
Now, as I have before said, the most curious and fearful of the island
people dwelt in this Kingdom of Spor. They held no friendly
communication with their neighbors, and only left their own mountains
to plunder and rob; and so sullen and fierce were they on these
occasions that every one took good care to keep out of their way until
they had gone back home again.
There was much gossip about the unknown king of Spor, who had never yet
been seen by any one except his subjects; and some thought he must be
one of the huge giants of Spor; and others claimed he was a dwarf, like
his tiny but ferocious dart-slingers; and still others imagined him one
of the barbarian tribe, or a fellow to the terrible Gray Men. But, of
course, no one knew positively, and all these guesses were very wide of
the mark. The only certainty about this king was that his giants,
dwarfs, barbarians and Gray Men meekly acknowledged his rule and obeyed
his slightest wish; for though they might be terrible to others, their
king was still more terrible to them.
Into this Kingdom of Spor Prince Marvel and Nerle had now penetrated
and, neither knowing nor caring where they were, continued along the
faintly defined paths the horses had found. Presently, however, they
were startled by a peal of shrill, elfish laughter, and raising their
eyes they beheld a horrid-looking old man seated upon a high rock near
by.
"Why do you laugh?" asked Prince Marvel, stopping his horse.
"Have you been invited? Tell me—have you been invited?" demanded the
old man, chuckling to himself as if much amused.
"Invited where?" inquired the prince.
"To Spor, stupid! To the Kingdom of Spor! To the land of King
Terribus!" shrieked the old man, going into violent peals of laughter.
"We go and come as we please," answered Prince Marvel, calmly.
"Go—yes! Go if you will. But you'll never come back—never! never!
never!" The little old man seemed to consider this such a good joke
that he bent nearly double with laughing, and so lost his balance and
toppled off the rock, disappearing from their view; but they could hear
him laugh long after they had passed on and left him far behind them.
"A strange creature!" exclaimed the prince thoughtfully.
"But perhaps he speaks truth," answered Nerle, "if, in fact, we have
been rash enough to enter the Kingdom of Spor. Even my father, the
bravest baron in Heg, has never dared venture within the borders of
Spor. For all men fear its mysterious king."
"In that case," replied Prince Marvel, "it is time some one
investigated this strange kingdom. People have left King Terribus and
his wild subjects too much to themselves; instead of stirring them up
and making them behave themselves."
Nerle smiled at this speech.
"They are the fiercest people on the Enchanted Island," said he, "and
there are thousands upon thousands who obey this unknown king. But if
you think we dare defy them I am willing to go on. Perhaps our
boldness will lead them into torturing me, or starving me to death; and
at the very least I ought to find much trouble and privation in the
Kingdom of Spor."
"Time will determine that," said the prince, cheerfully.
They had now ridden into a narrow defile of the mountains, the pathway
being lined with great fragments of rock. Happening to look over his
shoulder Prince Marvel saw that as they passed these rocks a man
stepped from behind each fragment and followed after them, their
numbers thus constantly increasing until hundreds were silently
treading in the wake of the travelers.
These men were very peculiar in appearance, their skins being as gray
as the rocks themselves, while their only clothing consisted of gray
cloth tunics belted around the waists with bands of gray fox-hide.
They bore no weapons except that each was armed with a fork, having
three sharp tines six inches in length, which the Gray Men carried
stuck through their fox-hide belts.
Nerle also looked back and saw the silent throng following them, and
the sight sent such a cold shiver creeping up his spine that he smiled
with pleasure. There was no way to avoid the Gray Men, for the path
was so narrow that the horsemen could not turn aside; but Prince Marvel
was not disturbed, and seemed not to mind being followed, so long as no
one hindered his advance.
He rode steadily on, Nerle following, and after climbing upward for a
long way the path began to descend, presently leading them into a
valley of wide extent, in the center of which stood an immense castle
with tall domes that glittered as if covered with pure gold. A broad
roadway paved with white marble reached from the mountain pass to the
entrance of this castle, and on each side of this roadway stood lines
of monstrous giants, armed with huge axes thrust into their belts and
thick oak clubs, studded with silver spikes, which were carried over
their left shoulders.
The assembled giants were as silent as the Gray Men, and stood
motionless while Prince Marvel and Nerle rode slowly up the marble
roadway. But all their brows were scowling terribly and their eyes
were red and glaring—as if they were balls of fire.
"I begin to feel very pleasant," said Nerle, "for surely we shall not
get away from these folks without a vast deal of trouble. They do not
seem to oppose our advance, but it is plain they will not allow us any
chance of retreat."
"We do not wish to retreat," declared the prince.
Nerle cast another glance behind, and saw that the Gray Men had halted
at the edge of the valley, while the giants were closing up as soon as
the horses passed them and now marched in close file in their rear.
"It strikes me," he muttered, softly, "that this is like to prove our
last adventure." But although Prince Marvel might have heard the words
he made no reply, being evidently engaged in deep thought.
As they drew nearer the castle it towered above them like a veritable
mountain, so big and high was it; and the walls cast deep shadows far
around, as if twilight had fallen. They heard the loud blare of a
trumpet sounding far up on the battlements; the portals of the castle
suddenly opened wide, and they entered a vast courtyard paved with
plates of gold. Tiny dwarfs, so crooked that they resembled crabs,
rushed forward and seized the bridles of the horses, while the
strangers slowly dismounted and looked around them.
While the steeds were being led to the stables an old man, clothed in a
flowing robe as white in color as his beard, bowed before Prince Marvel
and said in a soft voice:
"Follow me!"
The prince stretched his arms, yawned as if tired with his ride, and
then glared upon the old man with an expression of haughty surprise.
"I follow no one!" said he, proudly. "I am Prince Marvel, sirrah, and
if the owner of this castle wishes to see me I shall receive him here,
as befits my rank and station."
The man looked surprised, but only bowed lower than before.
"It is the king's command," he answered.
"The king?"
"Yes; you are in the castle of King Terribus, the lord and ruler of
Spor."
"That is different," remarked the prince, lightly. "Still, I will
follow no man. Point out the way and I will go to meet his Majesty."
The old man extended a lean and trembling finger toward an archway.
Prince Marvel strode forward, followed by Nerle, and passing under the
arch he threw open a door at the far end and boldly entered the
throne-room of King Terribus.
The room was round, with a dome at the top. The bare walls were of
gray stone, with square, open windows set full twenty feet from the
floor. Rough gray stone also composed the floor, and in the center of
the room stood one great rock with a seat hollowed in its middle. This
was the throne, and round about it stood a swarm of men and women
dressed in rich satins, velvets and brocades, brilliantly ornamented
with gold and precious stones. The men were of many shapes and
sizes—giants and dwarfs being among them. The women all seemed young
and beautiful.
Prince Marvel cast but a passing glance at this assemblage, for his eye
quickly sought the rude throne on which was seated King Terribus.
The personal appearance of this monster was doubtless the most hideous
known in that age of the world. His head was large and shaped like an
egg; it was bright scarlet in color and no hair whatever grew upon it.
It had three eyes—one in the center of his face, one on the top of his
head and one in the back. Thus he was always able to see in every
direction at the same time. His nose was shaped like an elephant's
trunk, and swayed constantly from side to side. His mouth was very
wide and had no lips at all, two rows of sharp and white teeth being
always plainly visible beneath the swaying nose.
King Terribus, although surrounded by so splendid a court, wore a
simple robe of gray cloth, with no ornament or other finery, and his
strange and fearful appearance was strongly contrasted with the
glittering raiment of his courtiers and the beauty of his ladies in
waiting.
When Prince Marvel, with Nerle marching close behind, entered the great
room, Terribus looked at him sharply a moment, and then bowed. And
when he bowed the eye upon the top of his head also looked sharply at
the intruders.
Then the king spoke, his voice sounding so sweet and agreeable that it
almost shocked Nerle, who had expected to hear a roar like that from a
wild beast.
"Why are you here?" asked Terribus.
"Partly by chance and partly from curiosity," answered Prince Marvel.
"No one in this island, except your own people, had ever seen the king
of Spor; so, finding myself in your country, I decided to come here and
have a look at you."
The faces of the people who stood about the throne wore frightened
looks at the unheard of boldness of this speech to their terrible
monarch. But the king merely nodded and inquired:
"Since you have seen me, what do you think of me?"
"I am sorry you asked that question," returned the prince; "for I must
confess you are a very frightful-looking creature, and not at all
agreeable to gaze upon."
"Ha! you are honest, as well as frank," exclaimed the king. "But that
is the reason I do not leave my kingdom, as you will readily
understand. And that is the reason I never permit strangers to come
here, under penalty of death. So long as no one knows the King of Spor
is a monster people will not gossip about my looks, and I am very
sensitive regarding my personal appearance. You will perhaps
understand that if I could have chosen I should have been born
beautiful instead of ugly."
"I certainly understand that. And permit me to say I wish you were
beautiful. I shall probably dream of you for many nights," added the
prince.
"Not for many," said King Terribus, quietly. "By coming here you have
chosen death, and the dead do not dream."
"Why should I die?" inquired Prince Marvel, curiously.
"Because you have seen me. Should I allow you to go away you would
tell the world about my ugly face. I do not like to kill you, believe
me; but you must pay the penalty of your rashness—you and the man
behind you."
Nerle smiled at this; but whether from pride at being called a man or
in pleasurable anticipation of the sufferings to come I leave you to
guess.
"Will you allow me to object to being killed?" asked the prince.
"Certainly," answered the king, courteously. "I expect you to object.
It is natural. But it will do you no good."
Then Terribus turned to an attendant and commanded:
"Send hither the Fool-Killer."
At this Prince Marvel laughed outright.
"The Fool-Killer!" he cried; "surely your Majesty does me little
credit. Am I, then, a fool?"
"You entered my kingdom uninvited," retorted the king, "and you tell me
to my face I am ugly. Moreover, you laugh when I condemn you to death.
From this I conclude the Fool-Killer is the proper one to execute you.
Behold!"
Marvel turned quickly, to find a tall, stalwart man standing behind
him. His features were strong but very grave, and the prince caught a
look of compassion in his eye as their gaze met. His skin was fair and
without blemish, a robe of silver cloth fell from his shoulders, and in
his right hand he bore a gleaming sword.
"Well met!" cried Marvel, heartily, as he bowed to the Fool-Killer. "I
have often heard your name mentioned, but 'tis said in the world that
you are a laggard in your duty."
"Had I my way," answered the Fool-Killer, "my blade would always drip.
It is my master, yonder, who thwarts my duty." And he nodded toward
King Terribus.
"Then you should exercise your right on him, and cleave the ugly head
from his shoulders," declared the prince.
"Nay, unless I interfered with the Fool-Killer," said the king, "I
should soon have no subjects left to rule; for at one time or another
they all deserve the blade."
"Why, that may be true enough," replied Prince Marvel. "But I think,
under such circumstances, your Fool-Killer is a needless servant. So I
will rid you of him in a few moments."