Tale 12
The Messenger
The stonemasons crowded along the rock ledge, their eyes glued to the valley.
“I see the Great Wizard's messenger,” someone shouted, watching the flying comet.
“I can see the comet, but where did you see the messenger?” the King Spark-ling meddled in. “Besides, the comet isn’t lit.”
“Of course, it is. Look at its tail.”
And they all watched the glowing comet now circling the peak of the mountain.
“Look, it’s making zigzag loops,” someone shouted again.
The stonemasons had no clue of course of Zhabrey's favorite operational style.
But then the landscape changed.
As it lowed down, the comet started its magic dance by soaring up, dropping down and drawing a complex pattern in the air, resembling the topographical pas of dancing bees.
Neither alive nor dead, Volchak clung to the dwarf and must have even pressed him to his heart. Since he had never flown, his heart was pounding and, quite unexpectedly, his molar started to whine.
But the dwarf did not succumb to Volchak’s embrace.
In a manner of a dead loop he tipped the comet sharply sideways, holding Volchak in a head-down position .... Then the comet shook like a sack of dry peas, and capsized, throwing off the half-dead General.
There was one more provision in Zhabrey’s master–plan though.
After it made its last circle, the comet broke into thousands of little sparks that started to flutter above the stone blocks like magical silver butterflies. And then, the messenger himself appeared from this magical gleam, waving his ruby Jockey hat.
It was dazzling!
The stonemasons reverently circled the envoy eager to place Mash-fatum to his feet.
“Welcome the great keeper of Mash-fatum,” the King began solemnly.
Never in his wildest dreams could Zhabrey ever imagine that without any trickery on his part, he would be welcomed as Mash–fatum’s lawful proprietor. And, although his clever speech was no longer necessary, he couldn’t help delivering it, just to show off.
“Watch how great magic is being made. I bet you have never seen the real work of a hereditary King of Magic and Necromancy.”
And he stuck out his leg, which, in front of everyone, turned into a vulture’s clawed paw. He repeated the trick with his other leg. Then he flapped his arms and, in their place, a pair of mighty black wings came into sight.
So, there he stood, proudly sticking out his huge chest and sang his Great Zhabrey Song waggling his ruby Jockey hat:
Grand Zhabrey, the matchless Troll
Walks to celebrate his role
As a jumbo, fierce and grim,
Dreaming his Herculean dreams.
“I'll settle in a crystal palace,
Keep humble servants yet the callous,
Unruly ones by Royal bliss
I’ll execute. And to the Swiss
Bank all my precious stones and gold
Will flow via safety vaults.“
Grand Zhabrey, the matchless Troll
Walks to celebrate his role
As a jumbo, fierce and grim,
Dreaming his Herculean dreams.
“To my golden throne I’ll flop,
Forthwith with my mountain top,
Watch the secret rumors sprawl
Catching them the sec they crawl,
Cut the ones who droop and loll,
Keep no heed to me, the Troll.”
Grand Zhabrey, the noted Troll
Walks to celebrate his role
As a jumbo, fierce and grim,
Dreaming his Herculean dreams.
“To me, as spider webs in scission,
Will come with rigorous precision
All speeches of sub rosa matter
Will reach my ears and my meters."
Let all my subjects hold in their hearts:
My verdict is both quick and tart.”
