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“I’ll dispatch two nocturnal corps tonight, one land and one aero squadron,” Queen Lilian promised.
“Aero squadron?” Elliot wondered.
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Bowing so low her nose touched the ground, Duggla the Crone’s show of respect bordered on the obsequious. “You summoned me, your Greatness? How may this humble old woman serve her King?”
Rolling his eyes, King Arnie dismissed Duggla’s escort and waited. When the crone straightened up to look at him, she wore a lopsided, snarky grin.
“Madam Duggla, the Kingdom has further need of your assistance.”
“What is it now?” she sneered. “It’s almost sunset. I need my sleep.”
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“Bog is indebted to you, brave Master Barry.” said the King. “As of this moment, I name you Apprentice Knight with all the responsibilities and privileges attached to being a Knightling among the Knights of Service.” King Arnie clasped Barry’s hand and saluted him. “Lieutenant Terrance will take personal charge of your training. Who knows? Someday you might end up with his job!”
“Tank youse, your Greatness! I won’t let youse down.” Barry saluted the lieutenant. “What’s my first assignment, sir?”
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“We have one, sir!” the captain announced to the officer in charge of Prisoner Admissions as the Knights dropped their protesting burden on the jail’s flagstone floor.
Deputy Marco peered at the undersized frog reclaiming his dignity as he stood erect to face his captors.
“Youse are makin’ a mistake,” Barry declared.
The captain bopped him on the head to shut him up.
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The moaning had grown to groaning by the time Elliot and Cassandra found the pitiful, tattered creature the sounds escaped from. It lay surrounded by the crushed shell of its recent unborn meal. Cassandra gasped. Elliot stopped in his track.
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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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The Knights of Service worked together in silence tending to the injured, removing the fallen, gathering the weapons left behind. Someone had taken the initiative to mount the heads of the vanquished Marauders on pikes and stab them into the ground as a crude fence of morbid monuments facing outward along the border.
Let them feel their triumph with their grief, King Arnie thought. Soon the day will come when we feel sufficiently secure and ashamed enough to take it down. Today was not that day.
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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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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?”
Space, Time, and Raspberries 
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