Authors: The Enchanted Island of Yew
With that he whipped out his sword and stood calmly confronting the
Fool-Killer, whose grave face never changed in expression as he
advanced menacingly upon his intended victim. The blades clashed
together, and that of the Fool-Killer broke short off at the hilt. He
took a step backward, stumbled and fell prone upon the rocky floor,
while Prince Marvel sprang forward and pressed the point of his sword
against his opponent's breast.
"Hold!" cried the king, starting to his feet. "Would you slay my
Fool-Killer? Think of the harm you would do the world!"
"But he is laggard and unfaithful to his calling!" answered the prince,
sternly.
"Nevertheless, if he remove but one fool a year he is a benefit to
mankind," declared the king. "Release him, I pray you!"
Then the victor withdrew his sword and stood aside, while the
Fool-Killer slowly got upon his feet and bowed humbly before the king.
"Go!" shouted Terribus, his eye flashing angrily. "You have humiliated
me before my enemy. As an atonement see that you kill me a fool a day
for sixty days."
Hearing this command, many of the people about the throne began to
tremble; but the king paid no attention to their fears, and the
Fool-Killer bowed again before his master and withdrew from the chamber.
"Now," said Terribus, regarding the prince gloomily, "I must dispose of
you in another way."
For a moment he dropped his scarlet head in thought. Then he turned
fiercely upon his attendants.
"Let the Wrestler come forward!" he shouted, as loudly as his mild
voice would carry.
Instantly a tall blackamoor advanced from the throng and cast off his
flowing robe, showing a strong figure clad only in a silver loincloth.
"Crack me this fellow's bones!" commanded Terribus.
"I beg your Majesty will not compel me to touch him," said Prince
Marvel, with a slight shudder; "for his skin is greasy, and will soil
my hands. Here, Nerle!" he continued, turning to his esquire, "dispose
of this black man, and save me the trouble."
Nerle laughed pleasantly. The black was a powerfully built man, and
compared with Nerle and the prince, who had but the stature of boys, he
towered like a very giant in size. Nevertheless, Nerle did not
hesitate to spring upon the Wrestler, who with a quick movement sent
the boy crashing against the stone pavement.
Nerle was much bruised by the fall, and as he painfully raised himself
to his feet a great lump was swelling behind his left ear, where his
head had struck the floor, and he was so dizzy that the room seemed
swimming around him in a circle. But he gave a happy little laugh, and
said to the prince, gratefully:
"Thank you very much, my master! The fall is hurting me delightfully.
I almost feel as if I could cry, and that would be joy indeed!"
"Well," answered the prince, with a sigh, "I see I must get my hands
greased after all"—for the black's body had really been greased to
enable him to elude the grasp of his opponents.
But Marvel made a quick leap and seized the Wrestler firmly around the
waist. The next moment, to the astonishment of all, the black man flew
swiftly into the air, plunged through one of the open windows high up
in the wall, and disappeared from view. When the king and his people
again turned their wondering eyes upon the prince he was wiping his
hands carefully upon a silk handkerchief.
At this sight a pretty young girl, who stood near the throne, laughed
aloud, and the sound of her laughter made King Terribus very angry.
"Come here!" he commanded, sternly. The girl stepped forward, her face
now pale and frightened, while tear-drops trembled upon the lashes that
fringed her downcast eyes. "You have dared to laugh at the humiliation
of your king," said Terribus, his horrid face more crimson than ever,
"and as atonement I command that you drink of the poisoned cup."
Instantly a dwarf came near, bearing a beautiful golden goblet in his
crooked hands.
"Drink!" he said, an evil leer upon his face.
The girl well knew this goblet contained a vile poison, one drop of
which on her tongue would cause death; so she hesitated, trembling and
shrinking from the ordeal.
Prince Marvel looked into her sweet face with pitying eyes, and
stepping quickly to her side, took her hand in his.
"Now drink!" he said, smiling upon her; "the poison will not hurt you."
She drank obediently, while the dwarf chuckled with awful glee and the
king looked on eagerly, expecting her to fall dead at his feet. But
instead the girl stood upright and pressed Marvel's hand, looking
gratefully into his face.
"You are a fairy!" she whispered, so low that no one else heard her
voice. "I knew that you would save me."
"Keep my secret," whispered the prince in return, and still holding her
hand he led her back to her former place.
King Terribus was almost wild with rage and disappointment, and his
elephant nose twisted and squirmed horribly.
"So you dare to thwart my commands, do you!" he cried, excitedly.
"Well, we shall soon see which of us is the more powerful. I have
decreed your death—and die you shall!"
For a moment his eye roved around the chamber uncertainly. Then he
shouted, suddenly:
"Ho, there! Keepers of the royal menagerie—appear!"
Three men entered the room and bowed before the king. They were of the
Gray Men of the mountains, who had followed Prince Marvel and Nerle
through the rocky passes.
"Bring hither the Royal Dragon," cried the king, "and let him consume
these strangers before my very eyes!"
The men withdrew, and presently was heard a distant shouting, followed
by a low rumbling sound, with groans, snorts, roars and a hissing like
steam from the spout of a teakettle.
The noise and shouting drew nearer, while the people huddled together
like frightened sheep; and then suddenly the doors flew open and the
Royal Dragon advanced to the center of the room.
This creature was at once the pride and terror of the Kingdom of Spor.
It was more than thirty feet in length and covered everywhere with
large green scales set with diamonds, making the dragon, when it moved,
a very glittering spectacle. Its eyes were as big as pie-plates, and
its mouth—when wide opened—fully as large as a bath-tub. Its tail
was very long and ended in a golden ball, such as you see on the top of
flagstaffs. Its legs, which were as thick as those of an elephant, had
scales which were set with rubies and emeralds. It had two monstrous,
big ears and two horns of carved ivory, and its teeth were also carved
into various fantastic shapes—such as castles, horses' heads, chinamen
and griffins—so that if any of them broke it would make an excellent
umbrella handle.
The Royal Dragon of Spor came crawling into the throne-room rather
clumsily, groaning and moaning with every step and waving its ears like
two blankets flying from a clothesline.
The king looked on it and frowned.
"Why are you not breathing fire and brimstone?" he demanded, angrily.
"Why, I was caught out in a gale the other night," returned the Dragon,
rubbing the back of its ear with its left front paw, as it paused and
looked at the king, "and the wind put out my fire."
"Then why didn't you light it again?" asked Terribus, turning on the
keepers.
"We—we were out of matches, your Majesty!" stammered the trembling
Gray Men.
"So—ho!" yelled the king, and was about to order the keepers beheaded;
but just then Nerle pulled out his match-box, lit one of the matches,
and held it in front of the Dragon's mouth. Instantly the creature's
breath caught fire; and it began to breathe flames a yard in length.
"That's better," sighed the Dragon, contentedly. "I hope your Majesty
is now satisfied."
"No,—I am not satisfied!" declared King Terribus. "Why do you not
lash your tail?"
"Ah, I can't do that!" replied the Dragon. "It's all stiffened up with
rheumatism from the dampness of my cave. It hurts too much to lash it."
"Well, then, gnash your teeth!" commanded the king.
"Tut—tut!" answered the Dragon, mildly; "I can't do that, either; for
since you had them so beautifully carved it makes my teeth ache to
gnash them."
"Well, then, what are you good for?" cried the king, in a fury.
"Don't I look awful? Am I not terrible to gaze on?" inquired the
Dragon, proudly, as it breathed out red and yellow flames and made them
curl in circles around its horns. "I guess there's no need for me to
suggest terror to any one that happens to see me," it added, winking
one of the pie-plate eyes at King Terribus.
The king looked at the monster critically, and it really seemed to him
that it was a frightful thing to behold. So he curbed his anger and
said, in his ordinary sweet voice:
"I have called you here to destroy these two strangers."
"How?" asked the Dragon, looking upon Prince Marvel and Nerle with
interest.
"I am not particular," answered the king. "You may consume them with
your fiery breath, or smash them with your tail, or grind them to atoms
between your teeth, or tear them to pieces with your claws. Only, do
hurry up and get it over with!"
"Hm-m-m!" said the Dragon, thoughtfully, as if it didn't relish the
job; "this one isn't Saint George, is it?"
"No, no!" exclaimed the king, irritably; "it's Prince Marvel. Do get
to work as soon as possible."
"Prince Marvel—Prince Marvel," repeated the Dragon. "Why, there isn't
a prince in the whole world named Marvel! I'm pretty well posted on
the history of royal families, you know. I'm afraid he's Saint George
in disguise."
"Isn't your name Prince Marvel?" inquired the king, turning to the
boyish-looking stranger.
"It is," answered Marvel.
"Well, it's mighty strange I've never heard of you," persisted the
Dragon. "But tell me, please, how would you prefer to be killed?"
"Oh, I'm not going to be killed at all," replied the prince, laughing.
"Do you hear that, Terribus?" asked the Dragon, turning to the king;
"he says he isn't going to be killed."
"But I say he is!" cried Terribus. "I have decreed his death."
"But do you suppose I'm going to kill a man against his will?" inquired
the Dragon, in a reproachful voice; "and such a small man, too! Do you
take me for a common assassin—or a murderer?"
"Do you intend to obey my orders?" roared the king.
"No, I don't; and that's flat!" returned the Dragon, sharply. "It's
time for me to take my cough medicine; so if you've nothing more to say
I'll go back to my cave."
"Go, go, go!" shrieked the king, stamping his foot in passion. "You've
outlived your usefulness! You're a coward! You're a traitor! You're
a—a—a—"
"I'm a dragon and a gentleman!" answered the monster, proudly, as the
king paused for lack of a word; "and I believe I know what's proper for
dragons to do and what isn't. I've learned wisdom from my father, who
got into trouble with Saint George, and if I fought with this person
who calls himself Prince Marvel, I'd deserve to be a victim of your
Fool-Killer. Oh, I know my business, King Terribus; and if you knew
yours, you'd get rid of this pretended prince as soon as possible!"
With this speech he winked at Prince Marvel, turned soberly around and
crawled from the room. One of the keepers got too near and the
Dragon's breath set fire to his robe, the flames being with difficulty
extinguished; and the gold ball on the end of the Dragon's tail struck
a giant upon his shins and made him dance and howl in pain.
But, aside from these slight accidents, the monster managed to leave
the throne-room without undue confusion, and every one, including the
king, seemed glad to be rid of him.
When the door had closed on the Royal Dragon, King Terribus turned
again to Prince Marvel, while his crimson face glowed with
embarrassment, and his front eye rolled with baffled rage as he thought
how vain had been all his efforts to kill this impudent invader of his
domains.
But his powers were by no means exhausted. He was a mighty king—the
mightiest of all in the Enchanted Island, he believed—and ways to
destroy his enemies were numerous.
"Send for a hundred of my Gray Men!" he suddenly cried; and a courtier
ran at once to summon them. The Gray Men would obey his orders without
question, he well knew. They were silent, stubborn, quick, and
faithful to their king. Terribus had but to command and his will would
be obeyed.
They entered the room so quietly that Nerle never knew they were there
until he turned and found the hundred gray ones standing close together
in the center of the hall. Then Prince Marvel came to Nerle's side and
whispered something in his ear.
"Will you obey my orders?" they heard the king ask. And the Gray Men,
with their eyes fixed upon their master, nodded all their hundred heads
and put their hands upon the dangerous three-tined forks that were
stuck in every one of the hundred belts.
Prince Marvel handed one end of a coiled rope to Nerle, and then they
both sprang forward and ran around the spot where the hundred Gray Men
stood huddled together. Then they were pulled closer together than
before—closer, and still closer—for the prince and Nerle had
surrounded them with the rope and were tying the two ends together in a
tight knot. The rope cut into the waists of those on the outside, and
they pressed inward against their fellows until there was scarcely
space to stick a knife-blade between any two of them. When the prince
had tied the rope firmly King Terribus, who had been looking on amazed,
saw that his hundred Gray Men were fastened together like a bundle of
kindling-wood, and were unable to stir hand or foot.