Their lookout flew up the road towards them calling out, “They’re on the way…all of you get into position, and I’ll make sure everything is ready up ahead.” With that the little faerie took off up the path that branched off the main road.
As promised, a few minutes later the King showed up with two of his bodyguards, riding up the road on the way back to his castle. He started a bit when a chorus of voices begged him to stop, reigned in his horse, and looked around trying to find where they’d come from.
“Down here!” they cried.
He looked and saw a gaggle of faeries hopping up and down. Ever wary of the tricky Fae, he regarded them suspiciously. “What do you want?” he boomed.
They covered their ears, “You needn’t be so loud…we’re not deaf,” the elder faerie admonished, “We are in dire need of your help. Our Queen is trapped in a spider’s web, and it is too thick and tough for our swords to cut through. The spider is returning, and we must get her free!”
He hesitated, and the elder piped up, “If you save her, there will be a reward for ye! Just please…help us!”
While the last thing the King needed was a reward, his curiosity was piqued. He got off his horse and followed them, leaving his horse behind with his men. As they came upon an enormous web stretched between two trees, he understood their predicament.
The silvery strands of the web glimmered with dew, and it would have been a beautiful sight were it not for the spider with the leg span of a dinner platter picking its way towards the delicate little Faerie Queen struggling in the web’s clutches.
Removing a jeweled dagger from his belt, the King made quick work cutting her free of the web. Deciding the spider had done no wrong; he left it to repair its home and turned his attention to the enchanting beauty he’d just rescued from a gruesome fate. As she stood on the palm of his hand, he gently helped remove the remains of the sticky web from her feathery wings and outfit. Once she was free of her bindings, she turned to face her rescuer.
“Thank you so much…erm…”
“I am King Wallach of East Tiran, your Majesty.”
“King Wallach, I can not thank you enough,” the Queen looked up at his handsome face, and blushed prettily.
He noticed that little bit of pink that crept into her cheeks, and took in her flossy hair, and violet eyes, and her cute little pointed ears, and was immediately enchanted.
“It was my pleasure to help one as lovely as you, your Majesty.”
The elder faerie tugged at the King’s pant leg to get his attention, and he glanced downward, “We offered ye a reward for your service, King Wallach. What is it that you would be wanting?”
The King looked at the Faerie Queen, and her eyes locked on to his, “Would I take thee with me?” he asked her. “If so, I will build you a little palace of gold and crystal, and upholster everything inside in the most luxurious pink satin, all for you if you will be mine.”
The elder Fae played as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “WHAT?!? You wish our Queen as your reward? That is unacceptable! She belongs to us! You’re supposed to take our gold, not our Queen!”
The King looked down at him, “That is not your decision to make, old one. At least I’m asking, instead of just taking her with me as you know very well I could,” he turned his attention back to her, “So, what would you have me do, your Majesty? Leave you here and go on my way, or take you with me?”
The little Queen blushed again, “I’d like very much to come with you, but I need to talk to Councilor Alfred before we go. Would you be so kind as to put me down for a moment?”
The King obliged, and she took the elder Fae to the side, and began to talk to him in a centuries old language he couldn’t begin to understand.
“That was some good acting, my dear Alfred.”
“Are you sure you’ll be all right, your Majesty?”
“I’ll be fine as long as we stick to the plan. We should be at his castle by nightfall, and then I’ll need at least few hours to confirm our suspicions,” the Queen grasped his hands in hers, “Just don’t leave me there… please.”
“I’m frightened for you, my Queen.”
“I’m scared too, but it has to be done,” she kissed Alfred on the forehead and stepped back. She managed a cheerful smile and motioned to the King, who picked her up gently and placed her on his shoulder.
“Everything settled?” he asked.
“Oh yes! Everything’s fine! And I’ve been remiss…I know your name, but haven’t shared mine with you. I am Ordelia.”
King Wallach nodded his head in her direction, “Very nice to meet you, Ordelia. My castle isn’t much farther. We should be there by nightfall. Are you all right on my shoulder?”
“Oh yes! The view is lovely from here, thank you!” She glanced back, and found her people in the road, waving, and waved back at them with a sad smile.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As promised, they reached the castle by that evening. King Wallach showed her around, and then shared bits of his succulent dinner with her. A bed was set up for her in the King’s bedchamber from a jewelry box, a little pillow, and a blanket made from a fine linen handkerchief.
She pretended to sleep until the rest of the activity in the castle settled, and then opened her eyes. With her superior eyesight seeing in the dark was no problem, and her small form slipped through a crack in the door. Once she was in the hall she took flight, and began to explore. From the intelligence that had been gathered over the past year, she had a good idea where to find what she was looking for.
After about an hour she located the King’s study and found them. A gasp of horror escaped her. Unwilling to believe what she was seeing, she flew in closer and confirmed the worst. Lost in her grief she didn’t realize that she’d been followed until the glass jar surrounded her and the lid screwed on tight, trapping her inside.
Ordelia spun, and saw King Wallach’s visage peering in at her, “I had a feeling there was something too easy about all of this,” he sneered, “And now you, my little spy, will be next.”
A few drops of liquid came in through the holes in the jar lid, and she was enveloped in sickly sweet fumes. As much as she tried to fight off the lethargy that overcame her, it was just too strong, and soon she collapsed at the bottom of the jar.
King Wallach shook the jar a little to confirm that she was out, and with an evil grin took her over to his worktable.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the sun broke through the windows, Ordelia slowly woke. She was still groggy after being drugged the night before, and as she went to turn over, a sharp pain in her middle caused her to cry out and the fuzziness in her head cleared. She looked down and was horrified to see a large pin protruding from her midsection, piercing her just under her rib cage.
She forced herself to calm down, and took her mind off the pain by peering around at her surroundings. She was upright in a crystal shadowbox with a gold frame, and against her back was the luxurious pink satin she’d been promised. So this was his idea of a “little palace”. That bastard!
She didn’t need to look to know that she was surrounded by her faerie sisters, others who had been charmed and beguiled by King Wallach, but who had not survived. And now she found herself in the same predicament.
“But unlike with the others, they know where I am,” she tried to reassure herself, “Surely they won’t leave me here to die!”
Ordelia was suddenly confronted with Wallach’s face, and let out a little scream.
“So, you’re awake,” he smirked, “and I was right, you are a fine addition to my collection! Imagine, the Queen of the Faeries right here on my wall.”
“Enjoy it while you can,” she replied haughtily, “my people know where I am, and my time with you will be short lived. And then we will see that you pay for what you’ve done, you monster!”
Wallach chuckled, “Oh really? And just how do you plan to do that?”
He was taken aback slightly when her expression darkened and she replied with an evil grin, “You have to sleep sometime…”
Wallach turned on his heel, and left a little quicker than he had arrived. What if they really could harm him? He knew that the Fae were tricksters…what on Earth could they have planned?
This exchange had been observed by a butterfly sitting just inside the study window, and after the King had left, the butterfly shook itself in a mass of sparkles, and resumed her true shape. Dulcina, the Queen’s head Lady in Waiting, flew over to her mistress.
“Your Majesty, what has he done to you?” she cried.
“Calm down my dear, I’ll be fine as long as I stay still. Where are the others?”
“They’re making way through the tunnel; they should be here by nightfall. Will you be all right until then?”
“I will. Join them now, and let them know the situation.”
Dulcina stretched out her hand and pressed it flat against the glass, and Ordelia mirrored her action, the two friend’s expressions showing their pain. She took one last look at her Queen and the others, and with tears streaming down her cheeks, flew off to do as her Queen commanded.
Ordelia winced as she shifted slightly…her people were making good time. The Dwarves that they’d allied with were proving to be a marvelous help. They’d made quick work of digging the tunnel that led from the forest to underneath the castle, and through this tunnel they’d take King Wallach away with them, and make him pay for what he’d done.
She hung there, bored and in pain, for many hours. The sun moved across the sky, and as it began to dip below the horizon, she took out a little bag that had been hidden in her skirts, and held it ready. As she’d hoped, Wallach made an appearance as night fell.
“So,” he sneered, “No sign of your friends. I guess they’re not coming for you after all.”
She let a few crocodile tears fall, and looked at him pleadingly, “You might be right,” she admitted, “oh please…I hurt so very badly, and I’m so thirsty. Would you please take pity on me, and give me a sip of your wine?”
Wallach was pleased with her attitude change. He liked seeing her grovel, and the way the tears sparkled on her cheeks. He decided to appease her, and slid the glass front out of the frame. As he bent to put it down, Ordelia emptied the contents of her little bag into her palm, and when he stood she blew the dust right into his face.
He let out a shout, but it was short lived as he sucked in the powerful sleep drug. He fell to the floor with a thud as it took effect, and she looked down on him with a grim smile. He was going to be out for hours.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After about a quarter of an hour, Ordelia saw the door to the study crack open. “In here!” she cried, “it’s safe, he’s asleep!”
A stream of Fae entered the room armed and ready for anything, followed by about 10 of the considerably larger Dwarves, and behind them all scuttled in a dozen or so of those very large spiders.
“Did anyone see you?” she asked.
Alfred stepped forward, “No, m’lady. Most everyone is in bed, and the one manservant we came across was easily subdued. He’ll wake in the morning with no memory of this night.”
With that, he dispatched two of the Dwarves to get Queen Ordelia down. One of them hoisted the other up, and he delicately removed the large pin holding her in place, and she slumped into his outstretched hand. He jumped down, and very gently laid her on the floor.
The doctor was called over, and after a cursory examination determined that she’d be fine, dressed the wound with linen soaked in healing herbs, and called over one of the spiders. The spider emitted some of its silk, and the doctor wrapped it around her to hold the bandages in place. He gave her a sleeping draught, and she was placed on a stretcher for the journey back home.
The Dwarves also took down and opened the shadow boxes holding the remains of the other fourteen Faeries, and a crew was dispatched to prepare the bodies for transport, so that they could be returned to their families.
Alfred then directed the spiders over to King Wallach, and between them, they soon had him wrapped up tightly in a cocoon of their tough and silvery silk. He was placed on a much larger stretcher, and picked up by the burly Dwarves. Once everyone was in place, they snuck out of the castle via the secret tunnel, and headed back into the forest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was a very tired bunch that made it back to the glade the next day. Ordelia called for a bed to be brought out, and she was placed on it so that she could address the masses that had been called from all parts of the Faerie kingdom, while King Wallach’s unconscious body was laid in the middle of a vast faerie ring.
First, she called for Hreidmar, the leader of the troop of Dwarves that had helped them. She had arranged that they be given a sizable payment for their assistance, but when it was offered he waved it off, and knelt before her.
“Your Majesty, after the horror that this evil human has subjected you and your subjects to, we couldn’t dream of taking payment. You have always been kind to our people, and with you as the Queen of the Fae, we have enjoyed a peaceful relationship. Consider this a favor from us.”
“Thank you so much, dear Hreidmar. We could not have done this without your assistance.”
“It is our pleasure, your Majesty. The only thing that we ask…” he threw a glance over at King Wallach, “well, just make the bastard pay for what he did.”
Ordelia’s mouth set into a grim line, “Of that you have my full assurance.”
“Then with your leave, we will head back to our mountain.”
“Of course, I’m sure your families are anxious for your return. Thank you all again for what you have done for us, and if you ever need anything, we are in your debt.”
With that, the Dwarves took off and headed for home. Once they were out of earshot, Ordelia looked over at Alfred, “It is time to call the families of the deceased, so that they may claim their kin. And I want that monster awake to see firsthand the grief he’s caused.”
A group of Fae went over to Wallach, and prodded him with their spears until he woke with a start. He snarled, but was hastily shushed when two of those spears were aimed right at his eyeballs. The families then came forward to claim their dead.
It was solemn indeed, with many tears, and more than a few mothers collapsing in grief as they were faced with truth about what had happened to their beautiful daughters. Wallach was surprisingly quiet during this part of the proceedings, but the hint of a sneer still curled his lips. Once all the remains had been claimed, Ordelia turned to Wallach.
“King Wallach, you will be dealt with next. You are being accused of 15 counts of torture, 14 counts of murder, and one count of attempted regicide. For this you will be severely punished. You will be cut loose and will dance for five days with us as we celebrate and memorialize the lives of those you killed. “
The King scoffed, “Dance for five days? That’s it? That’s the justice you plan to give your people for what I did? You’re a worse ruler than I thought.”
In reply, Queen Ordelia smiled grimly, and with a motion of her hand, a group of Fae cut the King loose. He stood, and went to simply walk away, but when he got to the edge of the large faerie circle that surrounded him, he found he was unable to step out. He was soon joined by hundreds of others, and once everyone was assembled, the music began, and they started to dance.
Despite his attempts to be still, King Wallach found that his feet began to tap. A few of the dancers grabbed onto him, and began to swing about, and the momentum caused him to really start moving. They spun so fast, and he was afraid of falling but he never did. The relentless dancing and spinning continued like this unabated, but no matter how out of breath he became, or how tired his muscles got, he simply could not stop.
The Queen sat out for the first two days while she recovered some, but joined them on the third day. She perched on the King’s shoulder, and whispered the names of the deceased into his ear over and over, berating him, condemning him, and casting her spells on him. And after five days had passed, they all just suddenly disappeared.
King Wallach collapsed on the ground. In those five days he’d aged 50 years, and his brain was forever addled by this experience. His hair was grey, his beard was long, his handsome face ravaged with deep wrinkles.
He staggered through the forest until he came to the road. An attempt to flag down a passing carriage was reported to the local authorities by the passengers, who told of a bedraggled gibbering old man that had tried to crawl into their carriage with them. Deputies were dispatched, and the King was soon rounded up, and thrown in jail.
When he tried to tell the guards who he was, they just laughed. How could this old man be the hearty and healthy young king who had disappeared just a week before? It was determined that the only way the old man could be wearing the fine clothes the monarch had last been seen in was because he had killed him to get them. He was brought to trial, found guilty, and sentenced to hang.
The night after Wallach was sentenced; a group of Fae streamed in through his window, and poked and prodded him with their spears, making it impossible for him to sleep. They had no plans to make his last few days pleasant in any way, and his cries of anguish went unheeded as the Fae continued their torture in shifts. When the day of his execution arrived, Wallach saw it almost as a blessing.
As they put the black bag over his head the priest gave him last rites, and asked him if he had any final words.
“Tell them that I am truly and deeply sorry for what I did,” was all he said.
With that the trapdoor opened, his body dropped, his neck snapped, and after a few minutes he was dead.
When it was over, people asked who he was talking about, or what exactly he had done…all but the small figure that perched on a nearby tree branch and watched the whole proceeding. The one with the flossy hair, pink cheeks, and violet eyes, who nursed a slowly closing hole just under her rib cage. Satisfied that justice had been done, she flew off unnoticed into the forest.
