After that, the sword swore and sang like a drunken person, and finally began to accuse Charming of planning some evil against him, such as melting him down when he came to the next foundry. It was obvious that the sword had a problem.
That evening, when he lay down for a little rest and the sword had gone to sleep, Charming got up and ran away from Excalibur as fast as he could.
Chapter 2
Relieved of the sinister company of Excalibur, Charming continued his search for Scarlet’s castle. He moved silently through the forest, huge trees on all sides, vines and creepers using up whatever space was left. It was an undersea kind of landscape, green and wet, with odd noises coming from all around him.
Prince Charming walked. Unfortunately, Parsifal’s big black horse had run off with his first horse when he abandoned Excalibur.
Meanwhile Azzie, in Augsburg, was rushing about his mansion frantically, trying to put together the things he needed to give to Charming once he found him.
“Quick, Frike, better put in a bottle of magic wound ointment.”
“The edged-weapons kind, sire, or the clubbed-in-the-head kind?”
“Better pack in both, we can’t tell what he’s gotten himself into.”
“Lady Ylith is back, m’lord,” Frike advised him.
“Oh? I thought she was keeping an eye on Scarlet. . . . More bandages.”
“That she is, sir. Though in your absence she’s felt obliged to maintain the agreement on your behalf by reporting developments to the observer on a regular, daily basis.”
“The observer? That being Babriel? Of course. Good girl. Where is she now?”
“In the parlor, I believe, conferring with the observer over tea. . . . Here are the bandages.”
“I’d best stop by and say a quick hello before we leave. Thanks, Frike.”
Ylith and Babriel were stealing glances at each other over tall flagons of wine and exchanging glances through the haze of burnt mist which surrounded the smoking crumpets. They seemed to have developed a taste for each other’s company. You could tell by the way Ylith arched her back at every opportunity. As for Babriel, it seemed that some heavenly analogue to desire was working itself out in him.
Azzie bounded into the room, grinning or grimacing as the case may be, causing Ylith to spring to her feet.
“Azzie, dear, I’d thought you still far gone,” she announced, rushing toward him, embracing him. “I was just taking advantage of the opportunity.”
“Opportunity for what?” Azzie asked.
“Why, to see how things are going on your end of the business,” she stated. “How fares the project?”
“The moment is crucial,” Azzie observed, disengaging himself, “and my presence is required on the scene. I think you’d better get back to Scarlet’s castle to watch developments on that end. Hi, Bab. How’s Good doing these days?”
“Why, uh. We’ve just come up with a very interesting and inspiring touch for our entry. We’re calling them stained-glass windows. I’d really like you to see them sometime.”
“Sorry, I’m in a hurry right now. Stained glass?”
“Yes. Beautiful and morally instructive.”
“Ugh! Sounds terrible. Sorry I can’t stay and chat. Have another drink. It’s good for you. Frike! Have we got everything we need?”
“Here, master, is the final thing!” cried Frike, stumping into the room. He was holding in his hand two long horseman’s boots made of limp red leather. There was nothing unusual about them except for the small dials set into the heels.
“My Seven League Boots!” Azzie cried. “Frike, you’re a genius!”
Azzie put them on, hefted the sack containing spells, extra swords, and other odds and ends. He tapped the heels of the boots twice, activating them.
“I’m off!” he cried.
Azzie went through the front door in a single stride and took to the air.
Babriel and Ylith rushed to the windows to watch, for they had never seen Seven League Boots in operation before. Azzie’s pair was not new, but they worked perfectly. Off he went, just clearing the houses of Augsburg but gaining altitude, and climbing steadily.
The Seven League Boots took him high into the air, and Azzie could see the great forest below him, stretching to every horizon in a boundless sea of green. Every once in a while a clearing broke the uniformity and showed a settlement below. This went on for a long time. Azzie didn’t know where he was and decided to ask directions. He tried to get the boots to take him down. The boots refused to vary from their previous course. That was the trouble with Seven League Boots. They were very literal, taking you exactly seven leagues at a step, not an inch more or less. He reached down and hammered at them.