The Adventure of the Steel Gazelle
Kevin L. O'Brien
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Text Copyright 2013 by Kevin L. O'Brien
Cover design and typography copyright 2013 by Kevin L. O'Brien
Gunmetal font distributed under a freeware license by Digital Graphics Lab
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License Notes
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If you see any misspellings or typographical errors, please notify Kevin L. O'Brien using one of his online social networks. Thank you.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents, including those based on the real world, are either products of the imagination of Kevin L. O'Brien or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Because some ebook platforms do not support special characters, certain words may appear misspelled, but this was done deliberately to avoid the problem of the platforms deleting the characters. Also, the LRF platform used by older models of the Sony Reader does not permit the use of links to external URLs, whereas the PDB platform used by Palm reading devices does not support any form of linking whatsoever.
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Table of Contents
Preface
The Steel Gazelle
About the Author
Other Books by Kevin L. O'Brien
Connect with Kevin L. O'Brien
Sample Excerpts
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Preface
Eile and Sunny first learned about the Dreamlands when the High Queen of All Cats and her Council of Elders shanghaied them and brought them into the Dreamworld to help Medb hErenn fulfill a critical mission. After they returned to the Waking World, their contemporary Medb gave them "magical" devices that would allow them to find the Lands again whenever they wanted. They returned the next night and discovered that they liked adventuring there, so they decided to make nightly sojourns as often and for as long as they could. That story will be told in a novel currently being written.
This story takes place on their second night, six Dream-weeks after they arrive. (Time in the Dreamlands runs more quickly than in the Waking World: for every hour that passes there, a week passes in the Dreamworld.) The Dream-Medb has taken them under her wing and mentors them, teaching them about the Lands so they can survive on their own, though their Waking-Medb has already taught them how to protect themselves. Dream-Medb does this by training them in the use of medieval weapons and taking them on tours, but she also allows them to accompany her on her troubleshooting missions. However, if she is concerned her assignment is too dangerous for their current experience level, she leaves them in the care of a friend with instructions to just observe, and keep out of trouble.
Unfortunately, as Waking-Medb has often stated, trouble follows them like a love-starved puppy, so even if they try to avoid it, they often find themselves in the middle of trouble regardless.
Back to TOC
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Tyco Brahzie stood by the bar and looked out over the common room of his tavern. He smiled to himself: the Amethyst Scorpion was packed, which would make it a good night; in other words, profitable. Of course, it was always a packed house when Vichnia danced.
It was a sure bet the patrons hadn't come for the current act. Not that they were bad; they were actually a lot better than most of his regular performers, but they weren't what his patrons expected to see.
In the center of the common room sat a raised rectangular stage, surrounded by tables. In the middle of the stage stood two young, fit, trim girls, facing and whispering to each other. They had just finished their third song and were getting ready to do their fourth and final number. One had long, straight, seal-brown hair, which she gathered into a ponytail and let hang to her knees, while her face and forehead were framed by four big locks she had dyed a vivid fuchsia. The other had a huge, wavy mane of gamboge hair that billowed around her head, down her back, and over her shoulders. They wore gowns without shoulders or sleeves, with tight bodices and waists, and long, flowing skirts. Though not identical, they had matching designs and complimentary colors.
They had arrived that morning, with Medb hErenn. The brunette's name was Braveheart, while the blonde called herself White-Lion, an appropriate if not particularly imaginative title. Together they called themselves Team Girl. Medb had business in Hlanith, and she wanted a place they could stay where they wouldn't get into trouble. He wasn't too keen on babysitting a couple of innocent youngsters, but he agreed as a favor to the former queen, especially after she told him they could pay their way by singing. As such, in exchange for half their tips, he agreed to let them stay. They had already performed three sets. He hadn't planned for them to do that many, but Vichnia had arrived earlier than usual, and when she heard them she insisted they warm up the crowd for her. He had refused at first, but she batted her eyes, cooed, and flirted, and fairly quickly he changed his mind.
The girls finally turned and stood side-by-side. They nodded to a minstrel, who sat on the edge of the stage. He had come with them and he accompanied them on his lute. Tyco didn't care. He wasn't paying for him, and he was ten times better than the tavern's own six musicians.
He began to strum a tune. The girls waited for the overture to finish, then they started in:
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She was once a true love of mine.
They turned to face each other and clasped hands. Braveheart sang the next verse solo. She looked older, somewhere in her mid-twenties. She had a slim figure; her dress needed shoulder straps because her bosom wasn't big enough to support it on its own. She had ochre-colored skin and indigo-blue eyes. In fact, the only things that detracted from her appearance were the half-dozen rings in each ear and the single stud in her left nostril.
Tell her to make me a cambric shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Without no seams nor fine needle work
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
White-Lion sang solo next. She appeared to be only a couple of decades old, and she had a better endowed bust and hips; her dress didn't need any straps. She stood taller, but only by an inch or so, and seemed more adorable, though Braveheart looked quite cute. Her complexion was buff and she had azure-blue eyes. She wore a pair of glasses, which made her unusual. Glasses were rare in the Dreamworld. Tyco himself had heard of them, but had never seen any before.
Tell her to find me an acre of land
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Between the salt water and the sea strands
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
From that point on the girls alternated verses, first Braveheart and then White-Lion.
Tell her to weave it in a sycamore bower
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
And carry it home in a basket of flowers
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
Plow the land with the horn of a lamb
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Then sow some seeds from north of the dam
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
Tyco looked out over the room. The response was somewhat underwhelming, but he had expected it. His patrons were attentive and polite, but they were not very enthusiastic. The take was bound to be pretty small, probably barely enough to cover the girl's food and drink. He would have to speak to Medb about additional compensation when she returned.
Have her wash it in yonder dry well
Parsley, sage, rosemary
and thyme
Where water ne'er sprung nor drop of rain fell
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
And gather it all in a bunch of heather
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
Finally, they sang the last verse together, while gazing in a fond manner into each other's eyes.
Dear, when you have finished your task
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Come to me, my hand for to ask
For you are then a true love of mine.
As the refrain ended, they leaned forward and kissed each other lightly on the lips. It was the most risque thing they had done all day.
The minstrel finished the tune with a flourish and the girls bowed to the polite but subdued applause. They gestured to the minstrel, who stood and took a bow, and the clapping became a bit