CHAPTER 1
The Bucks in the Glade
It was early summer in the Thenken forest, and the morning was bright and comfortably cool. The earthen path along which Princess Etheria and her squire-els Cedric and Nigel travelled was slightly overgrown, but well-packed even though it had clearly not seen regular foot, hoof, or paw traffic in some time.
As the Princess walked and whistled, she took in the scenery all around her while her squire-els scampered about up ahead, chasing the occasional bird (who were quick to loudly chastise the energetic rodents).
Despite the clear sky and bright sun, yesterday’s rain storm was still stubbornly insisting to the forest—and to anyone else that would listen—that it wasn’t actually finished yet, but had simply been interrupted. All around Etheria, countless rain drops, having spent a restless night’s sleep clinging to branches, leaves, and blades of grass, took advantage of the slightest provocation to triumphantly resume their journey towards the earth. Upon arrival on the ground, some of these rain drops sunk into the wet soil with a self-satisfied sigh, while others were herded into puddles along the path, where they stubbornly resisted the efforts of the young morning sun to pull them back up into the sky.
It was quiet in the forest. I’m not talking absolute silence here, because the birds were still singing, various animals were calling, and the wind played a persistent rustling song as it breathed through the dancing leaves on the trees. I’m talking the kind of quiet that most of us raised in the city rarely experience. In the city, you’re constantly bombarded with the loud cacophony produced by the love affair between machines and people. In the forest, you are instead treated uniquely and solely to the sounds of life.
Today was not a particularly unusual day in Thenken; there were no indications ahead of time that this would be a day worth heralding. There were no omens, no warnings, and no omnipotent invisible guiding hand. There were no visitors from the future watching in secret to see if their history books were accurate. Indeed, it had started out just like any other morning, and none of the three friends woke up with a feeling that this day would, above all others, be in need of my chronicling.
In fact, the morning had begun with Etheria, Cedric, and Nigel sitting with King Rowan in the screened porch of the RestEddy cottage drinking their morning tea, and watching the mist dance frenetically on an unusually turbulent Sweetwater River.
“What are you three planning today?” asked the King as he blew across the top of his mug, causing the golden steam to swirl as it rose.
The Princess answered simply: “A hike.” Her attention was focused on her own mug, and the steam that hovered within it as if it were somehow more than just simple mist.
“Oh? Where?” asked the King.
Cedric and Nigel looked at the Princess who simply shrugged her shoulders in response to her father. They turned to the King and repeated the gesture.
Etheria took a sip of her tea, and looked over at her father. “What’re you doing today Dad? Painting?”
“No, not today,” the King answered despondent. “Earlier this morning, Fiddlestix informed me that part of the Bristlecone dam was washed away in yesterday’s storm. I’m going to check it out.”
“Need my help?” Etheria was understandably concerned. The Bristlecone was the largest of the many beaver dams built and maintained by the Beaver Lodge Collective to moderate the flow of the Sweetwater River. Low-lying areas of the forest could very easily be flooded if any of these dams were to fail.
“Nah,” answered Rowan with a slight shake of his head. “The mudders have already stabilized the damage. Pater Achelon is convening the executive branch at the dam today to begin discussions on how to ‘effect a comprehensive repair’.” He took a quick sip of his tea to test its temperature. “You know how much those beavers like to administrate things, especially their leader Pater! At the very least, they’ll be debating all day long.” The King rolled his eyes playfully as he blew across his mug again. “I’ll paddle down to look it over today, and if I need your help tomorrow, we can head over together.”
“You’re paddling down?” continued the Princess. “Wouldn’t it be faster to use the cave system?”
In response, the King took a measured sip of his tea, and smiled mischievously.
Etheria clued in almost immediately. “You’re paddling down because the water’s so high aren’t you?”
The King nodded. “Well, if I’m going to be in meetings all day, I’ve got to at least have some fun ahead of time.”
After breakfast, the trio stood on the beach and watched as a clearly delighted King paddled his birchbark canoe out of the eddy in front of the RestEddy cabin, and into the rapids beyond. It wasn’t long before he had disappeared around the bend of the fast moving Sweetwater River, yet they could still hear his energetic whoops of delight echoing through the trees for quite some time.
The Princess turned, and began to climb the wooden staircase that led to the closest of the cave portals that was directly beside the RestEddy waterfall. The three of them had finally decided that today, they were going to explore the Bitterroot ridge. It was one of the Princess’ favourite places in the Kingdom, and they had often spent hours clambering over the rocks at the base of the cliff, and swimming in the numerous waterfall-fed pools.
At the top of the stairs, Etheria picked up one of the several spherical, fist-sized stones from a recess in the rock wall beside the cave entrance, and led the way into the cave. When it was dark enough, she tossed the stone into the air in front of her where it hovered obligingly and began to spin. After a few rotations, the stone began to glow lightly, before suddenly bursting into a bright, slightly bluish light that softly illuminated the walls and floor of the cave.
The trio could now see that they were standing in a large tunnel with a broad ceiling, smooth stone walls, and a polished floor that was flat and even. Directly ahead, the tunnel branched in two. To the left was a short set of steps chiselled into the stone, with a thin channel of water that streamed out of an opening in the wall beside them. Emanating from this tunnel was the deep rumble of the waterfall that thundered overhead just a few feet above its ceiling. To the right, the tunnel curved gently, and angled down slightly. Not more than a few hundred yards down this tunnel, a bright opening was visible with blue sky and sunlight streaming in.
The Princess came to a stop beside a thin pillar of rock that seemed to grow up out of the floor of the cave. She removed something from an inner pocket of her cloak, touched it to the flat top of the pillar, and lightly squinted her eyes in concentration. In response, the opening up ahead seemed to shimmer for a moment and then abruptly darkened. The blue sky was no longer visible through the opening, which now showed a thick green forest beyond instead.
Etheria returned the object to her cloak, and followed the floating glow stone (that was always obediently hovering just a few feet out in front of her) through the tunnel. It was a short walk, and, as she and the squire-els approached the cave opening, the glow stone began to dim. The Princess reached out and pulled it from the air, depositing it in another recess in the rock wall just outside of the exit that they passed through.
The Princess of Thenken paused a moment to adjust her cloak as her squire-els scampered on ahead. She glanced over her shoulder at the dark cavity in the rock behind her where she could still see the bright opening that she knew led to the RestEddy waterfall portal. From where she stood, the other entrance didn’t appear to be more than a few hundred yards away, but she knew that she had actually travelled much farther than that in her short walk through the cave. Geographically, the Bitterroot ridge was some three hundred kilometres due north of the RestEddy cabin.
Such was the wonder of the Thenken cave portal system, one of a handful of remaining constructs of the mysterious Ancients who had populated this dream world untold Millennia ago. There were dozens of portals such as this one scattered throughout the Thenken forest, making it possible to travel vast distances across the Kingdom
in a matter of seconds. The only limitation being that you had to know where you wanted to go, and what portal you wanted to exit from ahead of time. Naturally, this had lead to speculation that there were portals out there that had yet to be found, and that they linked to sections of the forest that had yet to be explored.
The King’s closest advisor and good friend Fowler the beaver was the resident expert on the Ancients, and was currently on an expedition to the uncharted watershed to the West. He’d been gone for months, but could potentially return at any moment should he find another portal.
Etheria looked around to get her bearings while she swatted at a swarm of tiny black flies that had just found her head, and were taking great delight in exploring her eyes, ears, and nose. The sun felt warmer on her face than it had on the beach at the RestEddy, almost like it was later in the day here in this part of the forest.
The rock wall behind her marked the western edge of the great Bitterroot ridge that she and the squire-els were here to explore. The wall was a dark granite with deep angular striations, and was covered in cracks, crevices, and ledges where clung tiny communities of plants, young trees, and, of course, wildflowers. Indeed, this was the defining characteristic of Thenken, because everywhere the Princess looked, she could see brightly coloured wildflowers swaying back and forth gently in the non-existent breeze.
There were also dozens of honeybees circulating amongst the flowers, and a hummingbird appeared suddenly in the air over Etheria’s left shoulder, sipped from a purple violet, and was gone just as suddenly. In the space vacated by the tiny bird, a movement caught Etheria’s eye and, as she watched, a tiny green sprout uncurled from a thin crevice, reached out towards the sun and promptly erupted into a proud red flower.
Somebody in the waking world just had an idea, Etheria thought to herself as she admired the bright wildflower that had already begun to sway back and forth in time with its brethren on the rocky ledge. The Princess breathed in deeply through her nose in an attempt to sample the bud’s sweet aroma, but it was abruptly cut short when she inhaled a number of wiggling black flies instead.
Infernal blood-sucking insects! she cursed inwardly as she pulled a handkerchief from a pocket of her cloak, and softly blew her nose. Then she looked down the forest path ahead of her to see where Cedric and Nigel had gotten to. The path branched in three separate directions, and the squire-els were already bounding away down the path on the left, and were just now realizing that their Princess wasn’t with them.
Etheria smiled to herself as she folded the handkerchief and tucked it into her cloak pocket. These are my bodyguards?
Cedric had just now stopped in the middle of the walkway, and was looking back at her, his head tilted. “Princess?” he queried.
Nigel meanwhile was dramatically flailing about, wand in hand, looking for danger in all directions, an obvious over-compensation for his having forgotten about the Princess. He finally concluded that the most imminent threat in the area was the apple tree whose branches hung out over the cave entrance above Etheria, so he pulled out his magic wand, and scurried over to confront it.
“I’m coming,” responded Etheria as she moved down the path towards Cedric, the sound of apples exploding softly into sauce behind and above her.
Cedric and the Princess walked down the forest path on their own for a while before Nigel finally caught up. Even then, as the trio carried on together, he would stop occasionally, either to lick apple sauce off of his fur, or to look back towards the cave entrance and berate the now distant apple tree. Cedric looked up wearily at the Princess and rolled his eyes. Etheria smiled, and took a bite out of large apple that she’d managed to snag before Nigel got to it.
Eventually both squire-els fell into step beside their Princess, and the trio walked in relative silence for a time as Etheria looked at her environment in wonder. It was her third time here, and yet she was still struck by how the forest in this area of the Kingdom was unique. The trees here were mostly deciduous, tightly spaced and very, very tall. They also had bushy tops, and long, spindly, sparsely branched trunks. It was funny, but the trees just seemed more fragile here, like they were under-nourished somehow. They grew at odd angles, and several of them had fallen out of the forest and over the path since they had last been this way. The trio moved those that they could, and clamoured over or under those that they couldn’t.
Not much sun made it through the thick canopy overhead, and a dank, earthy smell permeated the air. It was, the Princess realized with a wrinkle of her nose, the smell of death and decay. The large flies that zipped around them, and landed heavily on her cheeks and forehead, only added to the experience. She stared out into the dripping underbrush at fallen trees that were dark with rot, and mottled white with mould, and at the faded leaves from last Autumn that seemed to be melting into the forest floor. Yesterday’s rain made everything seem softer, more yielding. Tiny splintered pieces of dead trees were smudging off onto her cloak as she brushed by them, and spindly birch trees, long fallen along the side of the path and covered in large knots of fungus, were now little more than spongy mush encased in cylinders of white bark.
Just as her unease began to manifest itself physically in the form of a cold shiver running up her spine, the Princess became acutely aware of something else, something that completely altered her perception: it wasn’t all death and decay.
It was only when she really began to look at the forest that she realized that what she had mistaken for dead branches were actually young saplings. They were growing everywhere she looked, even out of nooks and recesses in the rotting carcasses of their fallen predecessors. What’s more, all around the saplings, young ferns were slowly uncurling themselves from out of the mossy ground, and tall thick-bladed grass had sprung up sporadically at the base of the larger trees. The occasional patches of sunlight that dappled the forest floor were refuges for tiny communities of colourful wildflowers, and honey bees and butterflies flitted about from patch to patch. To Etheria’s great delight, she also spotted a diminutive figure gliding between the trees that she immediately recognized as a flying squirrel.
Indeed, throughout the underbrush, the Princess could see evidence of life that didn’t care about the fetid feel of the place. Life that wasn’t just thriving in spite of the environment, but instead as a direct result of the environment.
And then there was the potential for life as well. All around her on the path, strewn amongst the dead leaves, were tiny green seed pods that had obviously spiralled there from above along with the leaves. She could see how many of them, especially those that landed close to the edge of the path, had begun to root and sprout.
The Princess stopped walking abruptly when she suddenly realized that she was surrounded by one of the very paradoxes her father so loved to point out to her. There were two opposite states, that normally would have been at odds with each other, living in concert all around her.
Here in the forest, the cliché that death is a part of life actually made sense. She’d heard the words offered as solace so many times as a way to explain why people die, but until now had never understood it.
Here, in the forest, the living existed side by side with the dead. In fact, the living thrived on it. What was the fertile earth if not years and years worth of decayed plant material?
Here, in the forest, the two opposites of life and death actually lived in a balance so tightly woven together that one literally could not survive without the other. Perhaps, the Princess realized, it was the kind of paradox that would have been difficult to recognize in an urban environment where all things dead were trimmed off, whisked away, or entirely hidden from view.
Etheria smiled to herself. It was a profound way to start her day, and she was sure that her father would be proud that she had spotted one of his paradoxes on her own.
The Princess looked over at the squire-els who, this time, had stopped walking when she had, and were now excitedly conversing. Cedric had just explained to
Nigel how their squirrel cousins were able to “fly”, and Nigel was impulsively scrabbling up a tree to give it a try. Cedric’s increasingly louder caveats were ignored by Nigel as he leapt off the trunk of the tree about a dozen feet in the air, spread his arms and legs and promptly plummeted heavily to the forest floor.
The squirrel landed awkwardly on a large patch of thick moss, bounced once, and finally came to rest on his back so that he was looking up at the tree tops and the sky beyond.
The Princess and Cedric rushed to Nigel’s side in time to hear the tiny squirrel sigh bodily.
“Are you OK Nigel,” asked Cedric with obvious concern.
“Denied the sky,” answered the prostate rodent hyperbolically, the back of his tiny paw pressed against his forehead. “Once again, I find myself at the losing end of evolution.”
Cedric didn’t seem to be paying attention to Nigel anymore, and he cocked his head suddenly and looked over at the path. “Wait,” he said. “Did you hear that?”
Nigel lifted his head off his mossy pillow, and began to rise while he answered, “Well yes. Mostly because I said it.”
Cedric made a clicking noise with his mouth that sounded like an annoyed “tsk”, and jumped over his friend towards the path, knocking him back onto the ground in the process.
Cedric landed in the middle of the path in a stance and turned his ears to the breeze. “I thought I heard...” He paused and twitched his ears. “Yes, I do hear it. Voices!”
Etheria’s human ears could hear nothing but the typical sounds of the forest: the wind in the leaves, the slight buzz of the honeybees, and the birds composing their symphonies.
Nigel, his fall completely forgotten now, jumped up onto a low hanging branch, cocked his head, and closed his eyes. “Yes,” he said suddenly serious. “I can hear them too.” He turned his head slightly and furrowed his brow. “They’re arguing I think,” he added.
It could have just been her imagination, but the Princess thought she could also hear whispers of loud angry voices on the wind as well.
“C’mon,” she said to Cedric and Nigel. “Let’s go check it out.” She began to walk down the path. Nigel leapt off the branch, landed on the ground ahead of the Princess, and took the point. Cedric looked around nervously as he fingered the handle of his wand. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” he muttered as he fell in behind the Princess.
It didn’t take long for them to discover that it wasn’t just a trick of the wind, or their collective imagination. As they walked out the far side of a long bend in the path, the voices, and the argument they were engaged in, became exceedingly clear. The once fragile peace of the forest had been shattered.
The trio walked quietly and carefully up a slope, and around a tight bend until finally coming to a rather unnatural thick wall of tightly knit trees and branches. The angry voices continued unabated (if anything, they had gotten more intense), and they were joined by other noises now as well. There were loud thumps that shook the ground, heavy scraping sounds, as well as laboured breathing. It was clear that the arguers were right there on the far side of this wall of branches, and were doing more than just yelling at each other.
“Where did this wall come from?” asked Cedric. “It wasn’t here last time we came this way.”
“Did we come this way last time?” asked Nigel. Both squire-els were now standing between the wall and the Princess, their wands drawn. The argument continued on the far side of the wall, and Etheria could just make out movement through the entwined branches.
“I’m pretty sure we did,” answered the Princess. She moved forward slowly stepping around Cedric and Nigel. “I’m sure that this whole wall is new even though I’ve never known the forest to fluctuate quite like this. Although I suppose that anything’s possible, especially in Thenken.” she added quietly, her voice trailing off as she tried to peer through the branches. She still couldn’t see clearly though, so she finally stepped up to the wall, crouched down, and pulled a few branches out of the way. Her two squire-els jumped up on either side of her to peer through the opening that Etheria had just made.
Finally, they could see what was going on. On the far side of the wall was a large, bright clearing in the forest. In the middle of this glade stood two massive buck deer, heads bowed, their huge antlers locked, arguing loudly, and violently shaking their heads from side to side. The ground rumbled when they pawed at it; the air vibrated with their rage.
Nigel and Cedric exchanged worried glances, their raised wands in a defensive position.
“Is it really them do you think?” whispered Nigel towards his fellow squire-el.
“Who else could it be?” answered Cedric.
“Them who?” asked a befuddled Etheria who looked back and forth between the two.
“I thought it was only a fairy tale,” continued Nigel without so much as acknowledging the Princess.
“Me too,” said Cedric. The squire-el stopped talking as if suddenly aware of the cold stare being directed his way. The Princess had given up on trying to get their attention with words, and was now staring fixedly at them with a look of obvious irritation. Cedric figured things out immediately, and turned to look at the young girl.
“My apologies Princess,” he said. “Of course you, being from the waking world, wouldn’t know what’s going on. You see, there is a legend in Thenken…”
“It’s more or a fairy tale actually,” interrupted Nigel.
Cedric’s right eye quivered for a moment, and his face betrayed the effort it took for him not to respond to the interruption in frustration. He assumed a conciliatory posture, and spoke through gritted teeth, “Either way,” he said in an even voice. “It’s a story that we are all told as children here in Thenken. The story is called…”
“The Battling Bucks.” It was Nigel interrupting again.
Cedric’s smile stretched to be even more forced, and Etheria was sure she could hear his teeth begin to grind.
The Princess repeated Nigel’s words “The Battling Bucks?”
“Yes.” The word that issued slowly from Cedric’s clenched jaw was more like a hiss.
“Cute title. Very alliterative,” added Etheria as she continued to stare through the branches at the sight of the struggling deer before her. “So, what’s the story?”
Cedric took a deep breath and held it to see if Nigel would offer up a response on his own accord instead of continuing to interrupt Cedric’s narration, and when none was forthcoming, Cedric began to speak. “Well, in a nutshell (Nigel began to snicker at this because, for a squirrel like Nigel who loved nuts, there is something inherently funny about putting a story inside a nutshell), the two bucks had a bit of a falling out.”
“A bit of a falling out?” repeated Nigel incredulously while gesturing at the deer. “That’s a lot more than a bit…”
Cedric had finally had enough, and responded to Nigel’s latest interruption with hushed anger. “Who’s telling this story?” he spit out at Nigel.
“Well,” answered Nigel, “You’re trying to, but I daresay…”
“Fine,” said Cedric haughtily turning from the other squirrel. “You tell it then.”
“Well, not if you’re going to get all bent out of shape...”
“Would one of you please tell me the story!!” whispered Etheria sharply and as loudly as she dared.
Both the squire-els fell immediately silent and remained that way until Etheria finally figured out that the best way to break the deadlock was to assign the task directly herself.
“Cedric,” she said with authority. “Why don’t you continue please.” Cedric responded with a look of resignation, and lifted an eyebrow in Nigel’s direction. Etheria understood the implication immediately. “And please let him speak without interruption Nigel.”
Nigel shrugged his shoulders, rolled his eyes and turned silently towards the battling bucks.
Cedric cleared his throat and began to speak. “Well, it’s quite simple really. As the legend tel
ls,” he looked icily at Nigel. “One day, the two deer began to argue quite violently. And, as buck deer are wont to do when they argue, they began to butt heads. Unfortunately, this resulted in their antlers becoming hopelessly entangled.”
“I can see that,” responded Etheria.
Ahead of them, bathed in sunlight in the middle of the earthy glade, the buck deer continued to hurl insults even while they pushed and pulled at each other with their fused antlers.
“I don’t understand though,” pondered Etheria. “I’ve heard of this kind of entangling happening before. It isn’t all that unusual in the waking world. Why is this story worthy of legendary status in Thenken?”
“I suspect that it’s due to the length of the argument,” answered Cedric.
“Oh?” said Etheria. “How long have they been like this?”
“Nobody knows for sure,” answered Cedric. “Centuries at least.”
“Centuries???” responded the Princess with incredulity.
“At least,” piped in Nigel, finally breaking his silence, unable to resist the opportunity to be glib.
Etheria ignored the comment. “What could they possibly have been fighting about?”
Cedric stared at the Princess with a look of shock. “What were they fighting about?” he repeated. “Does it matter? The legend is nothing more than an old morality tale used to teach children the dangers of quarrelling.”
“I’d say it was a little more than simply an old story Cedric,” responded Etheria while gesturing towards the open glade. “And besides, even if it were just a old morality tale for kids, it’s not a very good one is it? I mean, what’s the morale beyond ‘don’t fight’?” The squire-els looked at each other before both looking at the Princess. “If I’d been told the story, I’d have wanted to know more. I’d have wanted to know what they were fighting about. I’d also have wanted to know how they ultimately resolved their argument.”
Nigel spoke softly. “I don’t think they’ve got that last part figured out yet.”
“You’re right Nigel,” said the Princess. “And since there are only two people present who know the answer to the first of those questions, I’m going to ask them.” With that, Etheria pulled her cloak tightly around herself, squeezed through the gap in the brush, and walked out into the bright light of the glade. The squire-els responded quickly to the Princess’ sudden movement, and moved to flank her with their wands in-hand.
The bucks were so engrossed in their argument that they didn’t even notice the new arrivals to the glade. The Princess walked slowly and obviously towards the deer, approaching them from the side so that they could see her coming, and motioned for the squire-els to hang back. They reluctantly acquiesced, and assumed a forcibly casual stance so as not to further provoke the obviously angry animals up ahead.
It was hard to imagine that the deer could be aware of anything that went on around them. Notwithstanding the din of their arguing, there was the fact that both of their heads were bent towards the ground, and they could only see things peripherally, and only then by severely straining their eyes.
Apparently the deer had, over several centuries, grown accustomed to seeing the world on this angle though, for they very quickly recognized that the young girl approaching them was none other than the Princess of Thenken. The battling bucks immediately stopped arguing and, as Etheria got closer, they did their best to kneel respectfully before her, bickering under their breath as they did so. It took some effort, but eventually they were able to each bend one of their front legs while kneeling on the other, and bow their heads as much as their tangled antlers would allow so that their noses were very close to the ground. Both of the massive animals quivered from the effort it took to hold this position.
All was quiet for a moment as Princess Etheria looked upon the bucks. The deer held their position awkwardly, their large ears twitching occasionally, their heavy breath blowing up swirls of dust off the dry ground, and their eyes straining to see what was going on around them.
Etheria well knew that a Princess was a position of some importance no matter where you were, whether a waking world, or one of dreams, yet it was always a difficult thing for her to handle. Etheria saw the large deer struggling to kneel before her in recognition of her Royal standing but, truth be told, she didn’t feel all that important. At least not important enough to deserve this kind of an effort. Instead, it just made her feel genuinely uncomfortable.
Still, she thought to herself, there might be something that I can do for them, and it might help things if they respect my authority.
This was still a new experience for Etheria. Her father had not taught her any of the protocols associated with Royalty, and had instead impressed upon her the importance of being equal to all, and superior to none. She knew for a fact that her father had taken the title of King reluctantly, confident that, if he respected the title as much as others did, he might be able to do some good with it. She had long ago decided that she would do the same with her title as well.
So, the young girl stood as tall as she could, and squared her shoulders in what she thought was a stately pose. Then, she cleared her throat and tried to speak normally, but a formal tone crept into her voice nonetheless.
“You can get up,” she said simply.
The two deer appeared confused; their eyes darted around anxiously. Then, as one, without speaking a word, they rose from their kneeling position. Etheria couldn’t help but notice that they actually worked together without complaint to do it, and that she supposed there were many things that they were forced to cooperate on, undoubtedly grudgingly. She wondered if they actually realized this fact. Would it help to point it out?
Once the bucks were standing again, they shuffled their feet a little, shook their heads and antlers as one, and then fell silent while they looked fixedly upon the tiny girl at their side.
All was quiet.
It didn’t take long for Etheria to realize that the bucks were waiting for her to speak first. They obviously believed that a person should not speak to Royalty unless Royalty spoke first to them.
Etheria already understood what she wanted to know from them. In fact, she had been aware of it from the moment that she had decided to enter the glade, but didn’t know how to ask it.
What to say? she wondered.
She took a few steps to her right as she thought about it. The silence around them grew even more silent, as if that were possible.
Well, she thought, when in doubt, go with the obvious. So she opened her mouth, and went with the first words that came to her mind.
“Oh great bucks,” she bade them in a regal voice, “Why do you argue?”
The question was an obvious one, but unfortunately not an easy one to answer. The bucks could not agree on a reply, and after a moment’s silence, they instead began to talk over each other in response to the Princess. It seemed that they had waited so long to talk, that neither could decide where to begin, or even who should go first.
Etheria couldn’t understand everything that was said, but it didn’t much matter. The most important parts soon became more than obvious. It was clear to her that, in a conflict that spanned centuries, details had been forgotten or exaggerated. Their argument was now a series of vaguely remembered insults and actions in which each blamed the other. The Princess quickly realized that the origins were inconsequential, because the bucks were perpetuating the conflict by arguing about the argument itself. It was the most vicious of circles, and physically manifested itself in the mess of twisted antlers holding both of the deer tightly to their angry past.
She walked around the bucks, who had begun to push and pull against each other anew. She was dwarfed by the massive animals. Even on tip toes, she was barely as tall as their upper thighs. Etheria could see that the legend of the battling bucks had become larger than life in Thenken, and wondered if perhaps the magic of this forest had somehow grown them physically to match.
As the Princess walked, she lo
oked around the tiny glade. Everywhere, the ground had been trampled, and the branches and leaves in the bordering trees were decimated. There was a stream running along the base of the rock wall that bordered the far end of the glade (it was a part of the Bitterroot ridge), and a large pile of excrement was scattered along its sandy banks, tainting the water that flowed downstream. No wild flowers grew in the glade, no small animals scurried about. Even the birds seemed to avoid this area.
This patch of forest had been scarred by this violent conflict, but Etheria noted that it seemed that the forest was defending itself. As the trio had discovered when first approaching the glade, the trees that surrounded it had grown so close together that the bucks could not fit through while their antlers were so entwined. The forest had isolated the bucks in this tiny area. They were as much a prisoner of the trees as they were of their own argument.
The deer raged. Etheria paced, and the squire-els were, as always, close at hand.
As he watched the bucks, Nigel spoke quietly to the Princess.
“We should leave m’lady,” he said in a voice much more serious than his usual happy tone. “They argue with such contempt and vigour. I don’t think they’re even aware that we’re still here.”
“I agree,” spoke Cedric immediately. “It’s not safe here Princess.”
Etheria looked intensely at the bucks. She knew her protectors were serious, for they were using formal titles in addressing her. The squire-els knew that Etheria did not flaunt her Royalty, but there were times that they were forced to remind her that Thenken was more than simply a forest, it was her Kingdom, and her well-being within it was vital.
The girl smiled warmly at both of them to acknowledge their concerns. The squire-els sighed, and grasped their wands a little tighter. They knew by the look on her face that they weren’t going to be leaving the glade any time soon. If there was one constant in their explorations in Thenken with the young Princess, it was that she always stopped to help when somebody else was in need. Whether it was as simple as returning a too-young-to-fly bird to a nest that it had fallen out of, or assisting the beavers in maintaining the massive dams along the Sweetwater river, Etheria was always willing to lend a hand, even should that hand get dirty or muddy as a result. She may not like to think of herself as Royalty, but she cared deeply for the residents of the forest, and she considered nothing to be beneath her.
This situation was a little different though. This one was potentially dangerous, and the little hairs that bristled on the back of both of the squire-els necks agreed. They flanked the Princess on both sides, ever alert.
Etheria walked closer to the bucks. The dust that had been kicked up by their hooves somewhat obscured the young girl’s view. She wanted to look more closely at the locked antlers, and it was not an easy task with the bucks shuffling about as they were. Yet, as she neared, they sensed her presence again, and seemed calmed by it. They slowed their struggle, stopped their shaking, snorted a few times, and then at last they were silent.
The Princess reached up brazenly, and touched the antlers. She ran her tiny fingers along the dimpled surfaces. She wrapped both hands around them at their base to judge their girth, and she found that they were so thick that her fingers could not touch on the other side. She was amazed how much the antlers looked like trees with strong thick trunks, yet felt like exactly like solid stone.
Etheria had seen some large racks in her time in the forest, but they didn’t come anywhere close to being as impressive as the two that were entwined before her now. It was obvious that, over hundreds of years, they had never stopped growing—and snarling together. Their tangled points were a mess, and she could barely see where one set of antlers ended, and the other began. Large “branches” from one side were wedged so tightly between branches from the other, that it appeared as if they were completely fused together. Tiny processes had grown out, and then coiled around larger sections, much like the feelers on climbing vines that curl themselves around whatever they can find for support.
The Princess pulled at the antlers. Gently at first, and then a little harder. There was no give at all. It was as if the deer were no longer individuals: they had grown together into a single organism.
Could she do anything to help? she wondered. Should she even try? After all, this conflict had absolutely nothing to do with her. She could leave here now, knowing that the bucks, trapped here forever in the glade, would never be a danger to her. She could post warning signs along the path and around the glade, so that they would never be a danger to anyone else either. But what about them? The deer. What kind of a life was that for them?
“Princess?”
“Just a moment please Nigel,” she answered kindly.
She walked under the antlers, looked at them from below, and then from the other side. There was nothing different there, just the same tangled, fused mess.
“Please Princess.” It was Nigel again, much more urgently this time. “I know that you want to help, but please consider the danger.”
Etheria looked at Nigel, and smiled. “Thank you Nigel. Trust me, I’m aware of it.” She gestured enigmatically to her cloak to show that it was fully clasped.
She stepped back from the bucks, and looked one of them in the face, and then the other. With their heads bent forward, the bucks had to strain their eyes to see the young girl and her squirrel friends.
Etheria touched the shoulder of the buck on the right, and asked “What is your name?”
“Pahweetor.“ The answer was short and brusque, and delivered in a low growl. In another voice, the name could have been musical. In this voice, it was full of contempt.
Etheria then looked over at the buck on her left and noticed that a large tear was welling up in his eye. She moved forward, and placed a hand on his neck.
“And your name?” she asked tenderly while she stroked his tawny fur.
“Thé-B’doh,” he answered quietly. His voice cracked with emotion, and his foe immediately picked up on this vulnerability.
“Aw not again,” he growled with derision, his voice mocking. “Are you going to bawl again, you big wimp?”
The reaction was swift and immediate. Thé-B’doh shook off Etheria’s hand, and lunged at his foe anew.
“I AM NOT A WIMP!!” he screamed.
Etheria was knocked to the ground in the sudden fury, and heavy hooves rained down around her as the bucks moved against each other in anger.
Immediately Cedric and Nigel sprung forward, but it was too late for them to do anything. They could only watch in horror as one of Thé-B’doh’s massive hooves came straight down heavily onto Etheria’s tiny chest.
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