The Horns of Kern

  *

  Gertrude walked into the hovel to find his mother hard at work as usual. He headed over to where his father’s sword was stored.

  “Son, what are you doing? What is going on?” Winifred already had a worried look.

  “Norman will be here shortly to have a cup of blog with you. Both of you are to stay inside the hovel ‘til the king and I return. We will talk then and fill you in on all of the events.”

  Gertrude threw the scabbard over his shoulder, walked over to his mother and kissed her on her forehead and gave her a squeeze. “Do not worry, Mother. I will be in good company.” Gertrude turned and went out the door into the numbing cold.

  Smirch and Toggart were right. Nobody would ever think that they would attack the other stores tonight. He wanted to find Toggart and give him a well-deserved fist in the face. The embers of anger glowing earlier were igniting into a burning dislike for Toggart. This ‘Smirch’ character sounded like a vicious troll. He shuddered both from the cold and the thought that a fellow troll could be so mean.

  It was dark when Gertrude arrived at the castle. Gaining entrance, he was ushered into the great hall to wait for Octavius.

  “Gertrude?” A woman’s voice sounded in back of him. He turned to find Queen Emmaline walking in his direction, carrying a sheathed sword. He politely bowed. “Good evening, Your Highness.”

  “My husband shall be with you shortly. He has filled me in on everything. Please take care tonight.” Emmaline’s voice was fraught with concern. “Gertrude, your father died in battle next to my husband’s father. This was my father-in-law’s sword.” She withdrew the bejeweled weapon from its resting place and pointed to some writing on the blade.

  Gertrude partially withdrew his sword from its scabbard, and held it next to its almost identical twin, then turned the sword over in his hands, revealing an inscription on his sword. He looked at the queen, astonished.

  “Gertrude, this is the second time tonight that this sword has been pulled from its scabbard. The other was up in our bedchamber. That was the first time that it has been drawn since the end of the Troll Wars. We noticed the inscription, but it is etched in a strange language that we can not decipher.”

  “It is in our old Troll language,” a voice said from behind them. Winifred entered the room with Norman. “Very few trolls know the old language anymore.” She walked over to where Gertrude and the queen were standing. “May I?” Winifred extended her hand out to accept the sword from the queen. She turned the sword around and read the inscription that was etched so artistically into the blade.

  “Two swords, a troll and a man bonded together in one cause and in one friendship…”

  Tears welled up in Winifred’s eyes and her voice cracked as she finished. “This friendship shall endure the ages, even after death.” Winifred was handing the sword back to the queen when she noticed writing on the hilt of the sword. “Here is more writing.” She looked closely at the tiny lettering. Winifred choked up more, and she began to rub the hilt of the sword.

  “What is wrong, Mother?” Gertrude could tell by her expression that the inscription stirred her heart.

  Winifred peered up through tear-swollen eyes. “The inscription reads: ‘We carry each other’s sword through life and into battle…Sebastian of Tinker Hollow’.” She handed the sword back to Emmaline. Then Winifred eased the sword from her son’s hands. “The blade carries the same inscription, except for the last part.” Winifred had never noticed it before because the wording was smaller and it blended in with the scrolls and decorations on the rest of the blade. “Beware of the third friend, for his sword has no honor.” Winifred looked at the writing on the hilt. “ ‘We carry each other’s sword through life and into battle….King of Glennmorley, his Royal Highness Norman David Shires the III’”. Winifred shook her head. “I never knew that they carried each other’s swords.”

  Another voice from behind the small group added, “It shall remain so. I shall carry the Tinker sword with honor.” King Octavius walked over and lifted the sword over his head. “In honor of my father and in honor of my new friend, Sir Gertrude of Tinker Hollow…”

  Gertrude lifted the other sword next to the one the king was holding. “To friendship….”

  “Something curious I just thought of. Octavius, do you remember what your father called the sword you are holding?” Winifred looked puzzled.

  Octavius looked stunned that someone would ask such a question. “Yes, as a matter of fact he called it ‘Novem’. My father said he was asked to call it that by your husband when it was given to him.”

  Winifred looked even more confused than she did before. “If my memory serves me right, my Sebastian fashioned only eight swords. Apparently, he made nine. I watched him when he melted down the other six swords that he had fashioned. Where is the seventh sword, and who has it?”

  Gertrude looked at his mother. “Maybe you miscounted as he threw the swords into the melting pot. Father possibly made another sword that you never knew about.”

  “We must get moving here, Gertrude.” Octavius put his sword in its sheath and threw it over his shoulder. Gertrude followed suit.

  Emmaline cautioned her husband and Gertrude. “Be careful.” She walked over to her husband and gave him a kiss. She then whispered something in his ear that brought a smile to his face. Winifred walked over to Gertrude and kicked him in the shin. Then she planted a kiss on his cheek. Tears were flowing freely from her face, perhaps recalling another young troll she had kissed and watched leave to fight. King and troll turned and walked out the door.

  Norman looked at Winifred incredulously. “Why did you kick your son in the shin, Winifred?”

  “It is a troll custom to kick the ones you love in the shins before they go off into battle. It is to remind them that a sword will feel worse. In other words, it is to remind them to be careful.”

  Emmaline smiled. “That is a good custom. Maybe I should run after them and give my husband a kick in the shin, too.” All of the ladies started laughing. It was going to be a long wait before the return of their loved ones.

  “Gertrude tells me, Winifred, that you have never tasted tea. Would you care to try some?” Queen Emmaline smiled as she led them over to the chairs by the fire. The three ladies settled down to wait.