Authors: Daniel Coleman
In a broken voice he said, “Alright. We go in two weeks.”
Part III
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood a while in thought.
Elora studied the strange diagram on the ground next to the spot where she had awakened, still attempting to clear the fog from her mind. She should be able to make sense out of the scrapings in the dirt. It reminded her of a wheel. Protruding from the center was a tall wooden stake with a dark blue bandana attached to it. A small branch stuck out of the ground not far from the center, close to one of the spokes of the wheel. The diagram was large and had been carefully etched deep into the dirt. If she stretched she could reach from one side to the other.
No matter how hard she focused, the surroundings were unfamiliar and she had no idea how she had arrived. She blinked and shook her head, but still felt befuddled. Studying the strange clearing around her didn’t help. The woods surrounding her were as thick as a wall, and in the center of the clearing was the largest tree she’d ever seen. It was as big around as a house, and three times taller than any other tree in the forest.
Where am I? How did I get here?
Elora remembered traveling with an Elite escort toward Shey’s Orchard. They made camp, ate dinner. And then… She couldn’t remember.
Did I feel sleepy after dinner
? The image of a tent came to mind, but it might be from the trip
to
Palassiren. Her father and Mikel were in the camp with her. She ate dinner and…
now I’m here
.
Where is here
?
She didn’t feel like she’d slept. For one thing there were no dreams, only blackness. Struggling to puzzle through the situation made her head throb. It was useless.
Hunger gnawed at her belly. It could have been days since she’d eaten. Weeks. Examining her sore body, she found broad, but minor, bruises, and her muscles felt as if she’d been working them.
It can’t be the same day. It was night when I was in camp. But…how many days have passed?
Her confusion and the odd surroundings were beginning to scare her. She had to do something.
The enormous tree stood in the middle of a large clearing, twenty paces from the crowded woods which formed a circle around it. Other than the diagram, there were no signs of humans in the clearing. It was entirely free of life, both animal and plant. At first she saw no roads leading out of the clearing, but after walking around the massive tree she found a small path, just big enough for a horse and rider, leading into the woods. Judging by the sun’s position, the path either led east or west. It would take some time to figure out if the sun was rising or setting.
Apart from its size, the tree itself was nothing special. Being unfamiliar with forest trees, this one resembled many of those she’d seen on the road to Palassiren. It just looked like a tree.
A lone, gargantuan leviathan of a tree.
The bark was so rough and exaggerated she could climb it if she had to, but the path looked like a better option.
Taking one more glance around she called out. “Father! Mikel!” There was no response. Trying once more at the top of her lungs she called, “Father!” Indistinct forest sounds were the only answer.
The path it is,
she thought, and started into the cave-like trail. Having lived her life in an arid climate, forests were foreign to her, but she could tell this one was especially thick. Entwined. Impenetrable. Tulgey.
As she waited in the darkness for her eyes to adjust, faint noises came from the clearing. The trail was sinister enough to convince her to investigate the noise before plunging into the tunnel through the trees. Trying to stay hidden on the path, she peered carefully out but saw nothing. Sure she had heard movement, like an overloaded wagon crossing an old bridge, she warily entered the sunny clearing. Staying close to the outer perimeter, she circled the forest cavity.
The clearing was still empty. Just as she passed the odd diagram in the earth she was overwhelmed by a fetid smell and the sound of a great, rushing wind. As she glanced into the sky she realized how she had arrived at such a remote location. The Jabberwocky. It was worse than anything she could have imagined.
Turning instantly she scuttled toward the gap in the trees. The ground shook as the Jabberwocky landed clumsily in the clearing and slammed its tail to the earth, blocking her exit like an enormous, writhing snake. Its color was like rotten green beans and its smell was even worse.
Escape through the thick forest wall was impossible; she couldn’t even fit an arm between the crowded trees. She turned to face the beast. It looked on her like a bird discovering a worm in its nest.
Is it really so stupid it doesn’t remember bringing me here?
The Jabberwocky moved its head toward her, making her sway with its forceful, rancid breaths. It was every bit as manxome as the stories described it. Nothing seemed to make sense with the monster. Most of its appendages were scaly and twisty, but its trunk was solid and covered with leather-like skin. Its head was large and roundish, like a squat egg. The heavy-lidded eyes glowed with a dull fire as its head bobbed on an elongated neck to examine her from different angles. Sweat from its face mixed with saliva on its teeth and dripped to the earth.
Her bowels threatened to empty and she was sure her stomach would lose its gorge if she had eaten anything. Staring at the sweaty-tooth monster she told herself,
I’ve survived before and I’ll live to tell this story as well.
Elora looked around for a weapon or other means of escape. She was too far from the tree to climb, but the stake in the center of the diagram was within arm’s reach. It took effort, but she wrenched it from the ground. Holding the staff in front of her, she tried to look menacing. The dark blue bandana hung limply from the end of her staff.
The bandersnatch bled when I hit it, but I don’t know if this thing will even notice.
But she still wasn’t ready to give up.
As quick as a viper, the Jabberwocky’s mouth latched onto her weapon and ripped it from her clutches, filling her palms with splinters. Before she could move, it shot a reptilian arm forward and ensnared her in its claws. Its speed was unbelievable. The monster’s scaly fingers ended in claws almost as long as her arm. At first she struggled to free herself, but her movement caused the rigid claws to dig into her. If she pushed too hard they’d slice her open.
Tossing the stake to the side, the Jabberwocky lowered its head to her level to study her. Stringy, reptilian protrusions from its fleshy cheeks dragged on the ground leaving a juicy trail.
The Jabberwocky froze and its eyes lost focus as if pondering. An agonizing length of time passed as Elora remained locked in its grasp and it sat unmoving. It breathed raggedly, like an old man snoring and its scent still made her cringe. Though it still held her fast, the Jabberwocky turned its attention to the discarded stake and bandana.
It sniffed intently at the dark blue material, eyes opening wider and red irises burning brighter. A strange sound started low in its throat and by the time it reached its mouth it was an unpleasant rumbling, gurgling sound. The beast tensed, then swung its head toward Elora again. But instead of staring at her, it focused on the diagram of the wheel on the ground.
With effort, Elora calmed her breathing and continued to stand as still as possible, hoping the brute would forget about her.
The Jabberwocky studied the tracings, looking at the image from every viewpoint. Still making the awful rumbling noise, it lowered its oblong head to the ground, breathing in dirt along with every detail. The noise stopped and the beast raised its head, emitting an intense howl. The howl turned to a roar and the Jabberwocky cast Elora aside and tore at the ground in front of the diagram. Its claws churned the hard earth like plows, showering the clearing with dirt.
Stomping powerful, awkward legs, it bellowed and burbled causing Elora to shrink against the trees in fear. The Jabberwocky inhaled an immense breath that came out as a thunderous roar that bent trees and sent Elora crashing to the ground. With a clumsy lunge, it took flight.
Elora thought she heard a guttural groan that was almost a word as the creature flew away. “Revenge.”
Happily forgotten and still determined to escape, Elora scurried toward the trail without bothering to dust herself off.
*****
Tjaden’s individual training sessions started with instruction about the Jabberwocky. On the first day Captain Darieus dispelled myths: the Jabberwocky is not immortal, does not breed unnaturally with the maidens it kidnaps, and is not a creation of other kingdoms designed to wreak havoc on Maravilla.
Captain Darieus described the Jabberwocky from the rounded tip of its tail to the gelatinous protuberances that hung from its cheeks. The creature’s dull, oversized eyes came to life when enraged and glowed with hate-filled fire. Its quickness was purely unnatural—though the Jabberwocky seemed awkward, it moved with viper speed.
In addition to classes, Tjaden went through specialized physical training while Ollie worked to perfect his archery skills. Instead of sparring against men, Tjaden faced specialized training equipment designed to simulate a speedy, oversized opponent able to attack from any direction.
On the third day of their private training, Tjaden listened as Captain Darieus led him to yet another contraption. “The Jabberwocky is a hideous misfit of nature. It is hateful. It is filled with rage. It lives only to destroy and inflict pain. It is a brainless aberration that must be destroyed.
“The Jabberwocky has many means of attack,” Captain Darieus said. “Its tail is powerful, but more fearsome still are its jaws and claws. One bite will easily splinter a man’s spine. Once grasped in its claws you are helpless, wholly in its power. As I mentioned, the Jabberwocky is as quick as a lightning strike. You must have reflexes to match.”
The current device featured a narrow beam upon which Tjaden stood holding his drawn sword. Three padded, spring-loaded boards faced him. The contraption was designed to swing them at random. If the highest board activated, he ducked. He blocked the middle board with his sword, and jumped over the lowest. Or at least he tried to. He barely made it past one board, and was knocked to the ground repeatedly.
Captain Darieus watched with acute interest as Tjaden repeated drill after drill.
As the end of the third day approached he interrupted the training session and said, “You’re demonstrating remarkable improvement. You’re ready to see more.”
A soldier was sent to fetch Ollie from the archery grounds as Tjaden and Captain Darieus walked toward the barracks.
Ollie joined them before they exited the exercise quad and Captain Darieus explained, “I had not yet reached my thirtieth birthday, but had already formed the Elites and was second in command of the army. In an expedition which spanned the kingdom, I came across not one, but two Jabberwockies. With the safety of the citizens in mind, we attacked. I lost half of my men, but we succeeded in killing one of the beasts. The other was badly wounded and fled. It is that monster that plagues our villages to this day.”
Tjaden was stunned. He didn’t know what to ask first. “How’d you kill it? Why doesn’t everyone know about it? Why haven’t you gone back to kill the other one?”
Captain Darieus waited until he finished. “We took them by surprise. At the time, there was access available for a brigade of two hundred. We surrounded the first one and badly wounded it before they fought back. But since then the layout of the forest that surrounds the glade where he lives has changed. Only one or two can approach at a time, so ambush is no longer an option. The Jabberwocky knows our intent and its vengeance is fierce.”
Ollie asked, “But why not tell the citizens about it? It would give them hope to know it
can
be killed.”
“Alas, if the humble inhabitants of Maravilla were aware that we knew the Jabberwocky’s whereabouts, but were powerless to confront the beast…Gone would be their hope. Gone the undying support. It’s vital that they continue to have faith in us to protect them, to believe that once we confront the beast we will come off conquerors.”
It was difficult for Tjaden to follow the politics behind such maneuvering. He had always dealt with problems head on. “But, Ollie and me? How can we succeed where fully trained soldiers have failed?”
Captain Darieus stopped and turned to face them. “A prudent question. But it must wait.”
They had arrived at the entry to Captain Darieus’ private residence. It was a palatial structure lodged in between the military quadrant and the larger palaces of the king and other nobles. Captain Darieus motioned for them to follow.
The three walked through the opulent entry and turned left, passing under a large stone arch. Tjaden was stunned by the oversized hall lined with dozens—no, hundreds—of preserved animals. Near the entrance he saw smaller game: dormice, squirrels, crows, scalidinks, and borogoves. As they continued, the animals were larger. A fawn, a small pack of coyotes, a pair of tusked peccaries, an elk, an oliphant and every animal in between—all frozen in lifelike stances. It was an impressive, morbid display.
The sheer waste which Captain Darieus displayed with obvious pride shocked Tjaden. The pelts of the animals in this room would keep an entire village warm through a bitter winter. Not to mention the uses for the horns, hooves, claws, and scales.