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“Be at ease, Madam Duggla,” the King said, “I only wish to speak with you.”
Wiggling in a vain attempt to loosen her arms from the grip of the Knights who’d brought her, the old crone eyed the King with sullen suspicion. “Then send your jailers away,” she growled.
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“They’ll be all right, won’t they?” Cassandra meandered alongside Elliot, facing the sun as it hung above the distant mountains.
“I hope so,” he said, caressing her neck as they paused to share yet another sweet, unhurried kiss. “The Knights certainly have the training and determination to keep Bog safe. And everyone we met seemed devoted to King Arnie.” Being alone with his love, beginning their journey into a life together, he found he wasn’t nearly so eager to stay and fight someone else’s war.
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Trapped between the Knights of Service and Madam Duggla’s furry honker friends, the few remaining Marauders came to a quick and sticky end.
King Arnie surveyed the battlefield. How could so brief a skirmish cost so much?
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The river closing over him, Barry grabbed at the rope-like loop cinched around his leg, tightening as it dragged him backward through the murk. He plucked and pulled, trying to loosen its grip while it scraped him across the rocky bottom, racing back toward Bog.
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Duggla the Crone hauled her flabby form out into the open and limped to a halt before the King.
“The enemy loves you. You haven’t a prayer,” she cackled.
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The King arrived at the southern border with a squad of Knights at his back. More Knights stood guard in a line that stretched along the border as far as anyone’s eyes could see. They were armed, alert, and determined to protect their homeland against whatever it was that waited just beyond the trees.
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On his way to begin his shift as the Prison Admissions Officer, Deputy Marco was the first to take up the King’s command. Ballooning his throat, he bellowed the call to arms.
ARRRAAAAAK-ORRRAAAWWWK!
ARRRAAAAAK-ORRRAAAWWWK!
ARRRAAAAAK-ORRRAAAWWWK!
The King nodded, Barry waved, and the Knight’s alarm rippled down the rise, rousing other Knights and able-throated subjects to add their voices to the river of sound rolling through the Kingdom, swelling to a sea of shivering tones breaking in waves warning everyone of the approaching threat.
Elliot rushed to Cassandra’s side, determined to keep her close.
She kissed his cheek and turned to the King. “What can we do to help, your Greatness?”
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Elliot had been intent on King Arnie the Former’s face as he stood with closed eyes, silently remembering whatever it was that sweet voice had said to him.
Now, through the tears welling in his eyes, King Arnie of Bog contemplated the vast landscape spreading before them like a rumpled carpet.
Elliot ventured a quiet question. “You let her go?”
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“We need to talk.”
Persephone’s joy vanished while the four words portending Relationship Doom hung in the air.
Not wanting to believe it, she curved the corners of her mouth upward into a tight, frightened imitation of a smile. “Arnie? Is something wrong?” Each word passed her lips through a slog of reluctant molasses.
Prince Arnie stiffened and tried to avoid her searching eyes. He still had his arm around her, the smooth delicacy of her enticing and fragile shell a cruel reminder of how easily she could be crushed.
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“Arnie!” Persephone called, “Come up from there, I have something to tell you!”
Sluggishly, the Prince paddled to the bank and dragged himself ashore. His lady love was so excited, she didn’t notice his reticence.
Space, Time, and Raspberries 
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