The Horns of Kern
*
Gertrude spent the rest of the day in his small shop creating a gift for Norman's mother. It was almost time to leave as Gertrude finished the gift. He donned his cape and hat. With the package in hand and a kiss for his mother, Gertrude was on his way. He hopped up the path towards the garden, thinking that maybe he had eaten butterflies, because they sure were fluttering around in his stomach.
Meanwhile, Norman and her mother were making their way to the garden. The king had wanted to send a unit of guards with them. Norman had to plead with him not to order it. Only after the queen said that they would go alone was it that he agreed. They rounded the turn in the path and there stood Gertrude, looking very nervous and scared. His cape and hat made him look so grand, she thought. Norman smiled his way and waved. Soon the trio stood in front of each other.
Gertrude bowed deeply and reached up to take the queen’s hand. Norman introduced her mother to Gertrude. He gave the woman’s hand a delicate kiss. “I am honored to meet the mother of my friend. Now I know where the princess gets her beautiful looks.”
The queen seemed shocked. She had just let an ugly troll frog kiss her hand! “It ...it is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Gertrude. You flatter me.”
Gertrude was so nervous that he started to giggle.
The queen didn't know what he was laughing about and neither did Norman. “What is so funny, Sir?” queried the queen, looking around suspiciously.
“You called me ‘Sir Gertrude’. I have never heard such respect for a troll from a human. To me, that is funny.”
Norman looked over towards her mother. Her mother had a blank look on her face and soon Norman was laughing right along with Gertrude. Then the queen began to laugh, too. She saw the irony in her words. “Oh! I am quite sorry if I offended you.” The queen offered, apologetically.
“I was not offended, your Highness.” Gertrude said, smiling one of his wide grins. Gertrude excused himself and went over to the bench and picked up the package he had brought. He hopped back over in front of Norman and the queen. "This is for you, your Highness." Norman handed the queen the beautifully wrapped gift.
The Queen had a slightly surprised look on her face as she accepted the gift from the small frog-troll. “Thank you, Sir Gertrude. You are very generous.” She smiled, and sat down on the bench to open the package. Carefully, the queen took off the brightly colored bow and the wrapping paper that appeared to be handmade. She opened the box. Lifting the dried grass and flowers, the queen was awe-struck. Slowly she lifted the gift from the box to reveal a crown made of fine, filigreed gold, decorated with butterflies inlaid with iridescent shell, hovering above finely enameled pink roses. The queen was truly shocked by the gift. Finally, she looked at the frog-troll. “Sir Gertrude, please do not take offense with the question I am about to ask, but I must ask it. You crafted this treasure with your own hands?”
Gertrude was definitely blushing. His answer was swift and true. “No, your Highness. I had to use tools to make the crown. First I used a little rock hammer to find the gold. I then had to melt the gold and use an old press to make the gold into workable sheets for the filigree...” Gertrude went on for quite awhile until he noticed that both of the ladies where wearing huge grins and trying very hard to hold back from laughing. “What is so funny? Did I say something funny?” Gertrude said with a little annoyance in his voice.
“No, you did not say anything funny.” Norman said. “What my mother meant was that you have a wonderful gift to make the tools do what you want in your hands.”
“Oh...” Gertrude said rather sheepishly. “My mother always tells me that I do not listen well and can talk the ear off of a donkey.” He chuckled and shook his head. A broad smile crossed his face. Looking up at the queen, he inquired, “Do you like the gift, your Highness?”
“Sir Gertrude, this crown is beautiful beyond words, and I would be most honored if you would put it upon my head.” The queen handed the delicate crown down to Gertrude. She stood up and, picking up the hem of her dress, stooped down low enough to enable him to set the crown of gold in place.
Gertrude nervously looked toward Norman, as if he needed her approval. He saw the smile on her face as she gave him a nod. Gently, he placed his gift on the queen's head.
The queen stood up and curtsied. “Thank you for your most generous gift, Sir Gertrude.”
“It looks beautiful on you.” Norman went over and hugged her mother.
The queen then sat back down on the bench. “Please sit down beside me, both of you. Sir Gertrude, if you would please sit here and, Norman, you can sit next to him.”
Gertrude found himself sitting in between both of the ladies. At first he felt nervous, but that soon disappeared as they started to talk and laugh together. The odd trio spent an hour or so talking about everything from worm muffins to the upcoming ball. Dusk started to fall and it was time to part. Once again, the queen thanked Gertrude for the fine gift. Both ladies curtsied and Gertrude made an over-exaggerated bow. They all laughed and made their way home.
Gertrude had only rounded the next tree when he heard rustling in the spirea bush just to his right. Quickly, he hid behind a nearby statue. Only after he saw who it was,did he come out of hiding. “What are you two doing? Spying on me?”
“What are you two doing? Spying on me?” The shortest and fattest one repeated, trying hard to imitate Gertrude’s voice. The other frog-troll just fell to the ground in a fit of laughter. They were Meade and Zeon, Gertrude's idiot, trouble-making cousins.
“I see that they finally let you two out of your cage!” Gertrude retorted. He wished he could ignore them, but he knew that they were both like a bad cold - hard to get rid of.
“Why are you giving gifts to humans?” Zeon gruffly responded. “Humans hate trolls of all kinds and trolls hate humans of all kinds. That is a fact. I bet your mother doesn't know that you are visiting humans and giving them gifts.”
Gertrude had been hopping down the hillside as quickly as he could, trying to rid himself of his unwelcome company. He stopped dead in his tracks, turned quickly and jumped right in front of Meade and Zeon. Gertrude grabbed a tight hold on both of his cousins and picked them up in the air. In a very angry tone, Gertrude threatened, “You both had better leave me alone. I don't want to, but if I have to, I will thrash the living daylights out of you both! You know that I can.
Meade and Zeon's buggy eyes bulged as if they would burst. They had pushed the wrong button with their cousin. “Let us go!” squealed Meade.
Gertrude dropped both of them with a disgusted grunt, his no-good cousins hitting the ground with a hard thud. They picked themselves up as quickly as they could and got tangled with each other in their attempt to get away from Gertrude. Hopping a short distance from Gertrude, turning, they howled, “You're a human-lover, and we're going to tell the Grand Troll! You're going to be in a lot of trouble!” Meade and Zeon sneered, nodding in agreement.
Gertrude lunged at his two tormentors with all his might, Zeon falling backwards, starting to roll down the hill. Meade made a mad dash through the edge of the rose garden, sending rose petals flying through the air. They were gone.
Gertrude was angry. He was angry with himself for losing his temper. He kicked at a small rock....’Ouch!’ Gertrude mumbled something under his breath and limped part of the way home. Soon he was at the river's edge. A candle was burning in the window of his home, smoke lazily rising from the chimney. ‘Mother must still be baking,’ he thought. His stomach growled and a hot supper sounded very good. He opened the door to the tiny hovel. Just as he hoped, a hot dinner was waiting for him on the table. His mother was standing in front of the oven, putting more cookies into bake. She turned with a start as Gertrude entered.
“Well, my goodness, it's about time you showed up. Your supper is almost cold. I was starting to get worried.” The concern in her voice faded quickly. “Wash up and sit down. I want you to tell me everything that happene
d today.” She smiled, turned and poured two large mugs of steaming, hot blog, while watching as Gertrude washed his hands and face. Walking over to the table, she placed Gertrude’s drink by his dinner and sat her pudgy little self down at the opposite side of the table. “So, what happened up in the garden? I want to know every word. Is the queen as nice as the daughter?”
Gertrude turned around from the washbasin with a smile on his face. He could tell that his food was going to be quite cold before he could eat it. He sat down and started to tell his mother all the details of his meeting with the queen and Norman. His mother hung on every word, sitting silently, holding her cup of blog with both hands, elbows resting on the table. Her face skewed with different expressions as he told her the whole story.
“Then the Queen knelt down and she had me place the crown on her head.” Gertrude said.
“Phlttt, ka-kuff, ka-kuff. She did what?!!! You did what?!!!” Blog spewed out of his mothers mouth, splattering Gertrude.
Startled, Gertrude quickly stood up. “Surely, Mother, I am too old for you to be washing my face with spit!” Gertrude waved his arms in false horror. The room filled with laughter and Gertrude and his mother found themselves holding their sides as they were sure they were going to split at any moment. Gertrude went over to help his mother up from the floor. He continued to tell her of the day’s happenings, including the trouble with his cousins.
“Those two conniving scalawags are always trying to get people into trouble! If they were my sons, they would have very sore heads. With my luck, though, I would break my rolling pin on their hard skulls.” Winifred cleaned up the spilled blog as she talked, then walked over to pour another cup. Suddenly, smoke started coming from the oven. “Oh, my goodness!” She ran over to the stove and yanked the oven door open. “My cookies!” she moaned, as she grabbed the tray from the smoke-filled chamber. “Please Gertrude, hurry, open the door to let some fresh air in.”
Gertrude threw open the door and jumped back in surprise. There stood Toggart, the Grand Troll.
Toggart looked disdainfully at Gertrude. Then, through the smoke, he saw the small figure of Winifred. “May I come in?” He snidely asked, a malicious scowl crossing his face.
Before Gertrude could answer, his mother was at the door with a large broom held high over her head. “How dare you come to my house! You have no right to come here at this hour of the night. If you dare set one foot of your unwelcome body through my door ....!”
She didn't finish the sentence. Gertrude turned to his mother. “He will only return tomorrow, Mother, and it would be terrible to ruin another day, since this one is already ruined.”
Winifred slowly lowered her weapon. She despised Toggart with all of her heart. He had been at her husband’s side when the human soldier had killed him. His story of that night was one of bravery on his part. Winifred knew better. ‘Once a bragging coward, always a bragging coward.’ To think that she had almost married the scum! She shuddered at the thought. “Don't for one minute think you are going to sit at my table. I will not allow it!” Winifred turned and busied herself cleaning up the burnt mess.
Gertrude hadn't seen his mother this angry in quite a while, but it was surely understandable. His mother had told him that Toggart had come courting during the mourning period for his father. He would bring her bee honey and buy special flour. She would refuse it all. Toggart was next in line to become Grand Troll after Gertrude’s father. He wasted no time claiming his title. He did so the very night of Gertrude’s father's death. “Here, take this chair.” Gertrude offered.
Toggart sat down with a sly look crossing his face and the words out of his ugly mouth were laced with venom. “I see that nothing has changed, Winifred. Your son is growing up just like his father. Your son is stirring up trouble with the humans again. The same thing that happened to your beloved husband, Sebastian, my dear friend...”
“You were no friend of my father, and you are definitely not a friend of ours! So say what you have to say and go!” Gertrude could feel his blood starting to boil.
“Very well, then, you give me no choice in the matter. Tomorrow I will take it up with the committee of troll delegates your visiting and giving gifts to the humans. We shall see to it that your visits stop altogether. We will not tolerate a human-lover in our midst!”
Before Gertrude could react, his mother, who had been quiet up until this moment, threw herself at Toggart, her broom swinging. “How dare you come into my house and threaten my son!” Her rage caught Toggart off guard as he took a hard blow to his head, quickly followed by one to his face, making his nose bleed.
Toggart howled in pain as Winifred delivered another blow to his left shoulder. “You'll be sorry for this, Winifred! You and your human-loving son shall pay dearly...dearly!”
He ran out of the door, just as Winifred landed another blow. She hollered, “And don't come back!” She watched him disappear into the darkness, then turning, saw Gertrude smiling at her. “What?”
“Now I remember how you got me to behave. I was scared to death of you! You swing one mean broom, Mother.” Gertrude eyed Winifred, mischievously.
“And don't you forget it, either!” Lifting the broom she feigned a blow towards Gertrude. The anger faded quickly and both of them found themselves laughing, with tears running down their faces. “That old blow-hard! He makes the hair on my head stand on end!” Winifred huffed.
Gertrude couldn't agree more. “How much trouble do you think he will cause us, Mother?”
“As much as he possibly can…” Winifred muttered. “He is sure to call a meeting of the committee tomorrow, but I will be ready for him. I am a senior member and not too many of the other members side with him on any issue that comes up. Gertrude, please go out and bring me in some firewood for tomorrow morning. I'll have to get up early and bake another batch of cookies to make up for the ones I burnt.”
Gertrude didn't move. He was deep in thought. “I’m sorry that my friendship with Norman is causing trouble, Mother.”
“A friend is a valuable thing to have, my son. Good always comes out of friendship. We all have a tendency to take the things that we cannot hold in our hands for granted. No, Gertrude, never be sorry about making new friends. Sorrow should only follow the loss of a friend.” Gertrude nodded in agreement with his mother and headed to the door to go fetch the wood she requested.
Gertrude disliked his cousins even more after this. Something bothered him about his cousins spying on him. Why would they follow him to the rose garden at the castle when he went there often to harvest the nectar for his mother? It was time to sleep. His mother was already in bed. He could hear her snoring. He blew out the candles and bolted the front door and headed for his room. The bed felt good as he crawled beneath the covers.