Jabberwocky Read online

  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.

  At the end of the hall was a large oak door. Captain Darieus removed a key from his pocket and opened it. On the other side was a smaller hall than the previous, though still impressive. Instead of being lined with common animals, Tjaden realized in amazement that it was filled with implausible creatures.

  He recognized almost all of the beasts, some of them only by legend; he just hadn’t believed that some of them actually existed. Two bandersnatches stood menacingly near the door. The spines on their back were raised and their skin had a red tinge.

  Not quite as frumious as the one I fought, but close.

  Next to the bandersnatches crouched a pair of barbantulas—great, hairy spiders with legs as wide as Tjaden’s, and twice as long.

  Tjaden smiled and looked at Ollie, who gawked at the creatures with his mouth agape. “Still say barbantulas don’t exist?” asked Tjaden.

  Gaping at the grisly collection, Ollie muttered, “I respectfully rescind rashly recited rantings.”

  A small flock of Jubjub birds hung suspended from the ceiling, peering down with glassy eyes. The
ir red wings were angled backward in a life-like dive. By reflex Tjaden's hand went to his sword, and keeping his eyes on them until he was clear, he moved on.

  They passed a short, shaggy animal with oversized paws that he assumed was a feriwumpus. The next animal was a squat, wrinkled form that resembled a mix between a monkey and a crow. “Is that…”

  “A Targus?” asked Captain Darieus. “Yes, indeed it is. Notice the advanced age. ‘Tis true the elder Targus are much more deadly. I took this one with a single arrow.”

  Captain Darieus moved proudly among the displayed corpses. “I have hunted extinct animals,” pointing to three dodos and a gryphon, “terrible creatures,” now signaling the bandersnatches, “and even some that any reasonable person would swear do not exist.” Without a shred of modesty he indicated a brilliant white equine form with a solitary pearly horn.

  Tjaden was disturbed by the macabre collection. Hunting animals for food and clothing was a way of life in all towns, but it was obvious Captain Darieus killed for self-gratification, and not on a small scale.

  “But this is not why we are here.” He led them around a partition where a full skeleton of a Jabberwocky was displayed. “Behold your enemy.”

  The bones looked like a series of oversized snake skeletons extending from an immense rib cage and spine. Tjaden immediately noticed a problem. “Where’s the head, Sir?”

  “Ah, the one flaw in my collection. We were able to disassemble the body and bring it back in pieces. But the head was damaged so severely in the battle we couldn’t salvage any bones. I’ve been waiting two decades to finish this skeleton. I’m counting on you to complete my collection.”

  Whatever reasons Captain Darieus had for sending him instead of other Elites, Tjaden was glad for the opportunity to go after Elora himself. Nodding, he said, “I’ll bring you the head.”

  As long as it doesn’t interfere with rescuing Elora.

  *****

  Later that day, Ollie practiced at the archery range. Both he and Captain Darieus felt his time would be better spent practicing with his bow than doing physical training with Tjaden.

  He took careful aim.

  “Not going to get the bullseye again,” called Egden, a fellow Fellow.

  Thwang, thunk.

  Ollie’s arrow found the bullseye, joining two of his other five arrows in the tight circle.

  “I’ll be hornswaggled. How’d you do that?” asked Egden.

  “It’s all about breathing,” answered Ollie. “That’s the first thing I learned. Out. In. Release. I’ve known that longer than I’ve known you should never run to the privy.”

  “Never run to the privy?” asked Shen, a Fellow recruit from Palassiren.

  “That’s right,” said Ollie with a smile. “That’s the last place you want to try to catch your breath.”

  When Ollie started training, he had good basic bow skills, mostly learned from Mikel. The time he devoted boosted his skill immensely and the exceptional training in the Academy turned him into a better shooter than any of the other recruits. All of his precious free time was spent on the range both shooting and picking up tips from more experienced archers.

  Devoting himself to a task with such dedication was rewarding in a way he’d never experienced. In the week and a half since Mikel gave him the bow, he’d invested more of himself into learning its mastery than any other venture. For the first time, he felt true satisfaction as a result of prolonged effort. The bow was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

  A week into the specialized training, Ollie awoke excited at the prospect of a small break. It was Capital Day, a holiday commemorating the building of Palassiren. This being the fiftieth anniversary, the king was scheduled to spend the day greeting his subjects in the open square in front of the palaces. Captain Darieus made all the arrangements, and assigned people to carry out the logistics of parading thousands of people through the plaza. The fiftieth year being a Jubilation year, a feast was to be provided as well. The Elite recruits and their Fellows were to form part of the Honor Guard for the king.

  Of course Tjaden had been excused from the Honor Guard; neither he nor Captain Darieus was willing to lose even a few hours of training. King Barash approved the captain’s absence, and by way of paying respects to the occasion, Captain Darieus offered to lend the king his Elite cloak to wear as a symbol of Maravilla’s military might.

  “Too bad you don’t get a day off, Jay,” Ollie said the morning of the Jubilation.

  “In another week we’ll both have a few days off to travel. And from what Captain Darieus told me, you can afford to take today off. He said there isn’t much left for you to learn on the range.”

  Ollie was shocked. “He told you that?”

  Tjaden nodded. “He knows you still have room to improve, but he hasn’t seen many recruits that can shoot like you.”

  Ollie deflected the sincere praise. “For the next week I’m going to work on my speed. I’ve seen some of the masters using quick fire techniques. I’m not slow, but they can fire two arrows for every one of mine.”

  Tjaden didn’t let him off that easily. “I’m glad you’re my Fellow, Ollie. You’ve learned more here than any of the other Fellow recruits.”

  “Alright, I get it. You’re proud of me. You’re not going to kiss me now or anything, are you?”

  “No, I’ll save that for Elora.”

  The mood turned somber at the mention of her name and Ollie said, “One week, Jay. We’ll go get her in one week.”

  Ollie wore his accustomed pale blue recruit uniform, but Darieus insisted Tjaden wear a dark blue Elite’s uniform for the Jubilation day. Neither he nor Ollie understood the reason, since Tjaden wouldn’t be participating in the festivities, but he didn’t object. The friends bid farewell, Tjaden off with Darieus, and Ollie to stand as sentinel.

  Ollie had never seen anything like the crowds that assembled before the gates had even opened. He looked forward to the revelry—not to mention a break from his morning classes—but he longed to be at the archery range.

  Thoughts of the small archery range back in Shey’s Orchard made him think of Tjaden. The special attention Tjaden was receiving didn’t make him jealous or bitter at all, and that surprised him. In fact, Ollie felt more comfortable about who he was than ever before.

  Carrying his bow over his shoulder, Ollie walked past the Circle and Sword sculpture and into the plaza, which was filling with citizens and soldiers. The Elites wore swords or axes, but most of the Fellows hadn’t bothered to bring weapons. Only a few Fellows bothered to bring their bows, crossbows, and javelins. The regular soldiers would provide crowd control, so the Honor Guard duty didn’t necessitate being armed.

  Some of the other recruits teased Ollie as he walked out to the courtyard. “It’s an Honor Guard,” said Brin-Dar. “You’re not going to war.”

  Ollie simply said, “My bow goes where I go.” He could tell they were disappointed by his uncharacteristically serious response.

  Though filled with excitement, the day started to drag after standing for an hour. The citizens that filed past the king became a steady stream of repetitive faces. Ollie’s mind drifted to the range. If he couldn’t practice with his bow he would practice with his mind. Breathe. Raise bow. Draw. Aim. Out. In. Release. Bullseye. He went over and over it in his mind.

  As he was about to mentally release another arrow he was torn from his trance by a terrified scream. Lifting his eyes, he saw a great, dark shape descending on the courtyard. In the commotion of the celebration, everyone had failed to notice the Jabberwocky until it was in their midst.

  The earth shuddered as the Jabberwocky crashed to the ground, landing on four Elites and a Fellow a mere twenty paces from the king. Citizens fled in every direction as practiced soldiers drew weapons while moving to place themselves between the creature and their king. Even from a distance of thirty paces, Ollie smelled the Jabberwocky’s stench, like rancid oil.

  As the soldiers prepared to move
in, the Jabberwocky scanned the crowd as if looking for someone in particular. It seemed to be inspecting the assembly with both its fiery eyes and flat nostrils. It locked onto the king and the plaza erupted in a flurry of action.

  The soldiers attacked in unison, but were only able to land superficial blows. At the same time the Jabberwocky speedily bounded toward the king.

  How does such an ungainly beast move so fast? Ollie wondered as he nocked an arrow. The soldiers who attempted to keep the beast from the king were thrown aside or crushed by the creature’s hasty approach.

  Ollie took aim and let fly, but his arrow glanced harmlessly off the Jabberwocky’s chest. The monster loomed over the petrified king. While readying another arrow, this one aimed at its curvy neck, he saw the Jabberwocky pause to inhale King Barash’s scent. Ollie drew back again and his arrow flew true, lodging in the creature’s outstretched neck just under the head. The monster’s threatening growl turned sharp in pain for a moment, but it was not long distracted by the arrow or the infrequent soldiers who got past the thrashing tail. It didn’t seem to mind the minor wounds inflicted by the soldiers’ weapons and none could get close enough to strike deeply.

  The Jabberwocky opened its terrible maw, bit down on the blue-clad king, and lifted him as effortlessly as a girl picking up a baby doll. It slammed the king to the stone courtyard, and his body bounced, lifeless. Lowering its head, it inspected the unmoving corpse.

  While its snake-like tail kept the encroaching soldiers at bay, the Jabberwocky’s attention stayed on the king, barely flinching when Ollie sunk another arrow into its neck. After a short time inspecting the king’s body, the Jabberwocky’s eyes opened in an expression of shock. With a powerful bellow, it turned its fury on the attacking soldiers. Tail whipping, claws gouging, and jaws biting—any soldier within reach was thrown violently to the side or left lifeless on the ground.