The knights who came to rescue Princess Valerie received a dazzling and shocking surprise when they arrived at the Dragon Tower. The tower, once an edifice of crumbling stone that was the last remains of an ancient fort, now seemed to be made of pure glass. There were no entrances, no vines clinging to the smooth surface. A window near the top was the only way in or out, and it was too high for even the tallest man to jump into. Several knights attempted to break the glass with their swords, but the glass did not break. It did break several swords, much to the frustration of their owners. Occasionally, huge, thuggish men would lean out of the window to taunt and insult the knights.
The knights were so busy trying to break into the tower, they barely noticed the two new arrivals coming out of the woods. One rider was small, slender, and rather overwhelmed by his fancy chain mail and good unbreakable steel armor. “Unhand her, you ruffians!” a high, slightly obnoxious tenor squeaked. “She’s a fair flower of womanhood, and I will rescue her virtue from...uh...” The young knight looked over his shoulder at the other man. “Psst! Father, what’s the rest of it?”
Lord Henry whispered quickly into his son’s ear. Ronald nodded and continued. “...And I will rescue her virtue and return her safe and sound to her beloved father, our king, may long he reign over this land!”
The two fishermen peering out the window at the top of the tower were not impressed. “Go lick your lollypop, little boy. You haven’t got the brains to rescue a cat up a tree!”
Ronald’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “You jerks! Ok, that does it! You’re gonna get it, and I mean now!” He turned to his father. “You didn’t tell me they would be MEAN! That hurt!”
“Don’t mind them.” He quickly handed Ronald a small bottle. “Drink this, and you’ll be able to fly for a short time. It’ll get you up to the tower and out again long enough to rescue Valerie. The thugs won’t be a problem. They’re just local fishermen and woodsmen. I’ll deal with them and Dolenz and Jones after you get Valerie.”
The other knights just stared at the diminutive man and laughed. “How are you gonna rescue her?” one snorted. “You’re a pipsqueak!”
“Well, I know something you idiots don’t know,” Ronnie snapped. “I know how to fly!” He threw his head back and drank long and deeply from the bottle. The moment he threw the empty bottle on the ground, he started to rise. He rose, and rose, and rose still higher, until he found himself in front of the window. He pushed into the small room at the top of the tower, waving his sword and yelling “Unhand that fair jewel, you ugly peabrains!”
There were a few screams from the tower, some male, some female, and one whiny “Don’t hurt me!” This was followed by the sounds of a kick, crashing furniture, the shrieks of a dog and cat, and a somewhat masculine “I want my mommy!”
Lord Babbitt ignored the snickering at the last remark. “Hey, what are you lamebrains doing with my kid?”
One of the fishermen stuck his head out. He now wore the covering of Ronald’s chain armor. “You want him back? Give us more money.”
“I’ll give you money!” snarled Babbitt. “I’ll turn you into flies and leave you in the swamp for frog food! Let my boy go!”
The two fishermen exchanged looks and smirked. “No dough,” sneered the larger of the two, “no go.”
“Why, I oughta....”
The other knights, who were both dumbfounded and amused by this exchange, had mostly been standing around. One knight lifted his head, his eyes surprised. “Hey, what’s that?”
Another knight frowned. “What’s what?”
“Sounds like...hoofbeats.”
A third nodded. “Yeah. I wonder who would be out runnin’ around in this part of the kingdom at this time of day ‘sides us?”
Suddenly, a burst of black energy galloped through the clearing surrounding the Glass Tower, scattering the knights. The young knight who won the first trials charged right past the sputtering Lord Babbitt and towards the Glass Tower, his magnificent black stallion sending up puffs of sparkling white mist as he moved. He carried a huge sword with a silver handle. Only the barest hint of brown eyes and gold hair were visible under his white-plumed helmet, but the eyes were full of the same angry fire the horse’s eyes possessed.
Lord Henry’s jaw dropped clean to China when, seemingly lifted by the glittering mist, horse and rider sped straight up the slick surface of the building without stopping or even cracking the glass! The other knights, forgetting their own desire to wed the princess, cheered this amazing feat. Lord Henry was too shocked to say anything.
Valerie was delighted to see the rider and horse arrive in the small room at the top of the tower, though the horse’s presence DID make things a little crowded. There were already six huge thugs in the room. The snotty little nobleman who somehow floated in a few minutes ago was pounced on the moment he landed. It hadn’t taken long for the men to overcome the whiny would-be knight and slap him in glass chains next to Valerie. The dog and the cat were in glass cages across the room, noisily meowing and barking as they tried to claw their way free.
The knight freed Valerie and Ronnie first, the glass shackles shattering at the slightest touch of his sword. He quickly handed Valerie a fisherman’s knife. The horse retrieved Ronald’s sword from a table with his teeth and handed it to him. “Here. Even I can’t handle six men alone,” drawled a very fake-sounding Texas accent. “We’ll let them take their leave the hard way - out the window.”
“Who died and made you leader?” Ronald complained. He was not used to taking orders from some upstart knight whose face he couldn’t see.
“Unless you have a better idea, shotgun, I suggest you start aimin’ those hunks of beef at the exit.” He ducked as one of the men came at him clumsily with a cudgel. The man rolled right over his back and out the window.
Ronald ducked away from another man coming in his direction. “Right.” He aimed his sword at the man, but the man brought his axe down on it, shattering the blade in two. Ronald immediately fell on his knees, begging for mercy. He was still begging when Nesmith finally picked up the man by the tunic with his teeth and dropped him out the window.
The knight made for the two glass cages next. He easily shattered the locks on both with his sword and released the imprisoned animals. He leaned over the pair as they jumped to the ground. “Guys,” he whispered, “it’s me, Peter. I’m gonna get you two and Valerie and Ronald out of here, but I’ll need your help. Ronald’s a worse knight than I am, and Valerie, Nesmith, and I can’t do everything.”
The cat and dog exchanged looks, then nodded. They both ran at one of the fishermen at once. Dolenz leaped nimbly onto his head, while Jones attacked his legs. They scratched and bit at the man until they got him over to the window. The moment they jumped off, Nesmith gave him a stout kick in the buttocks that sent him flying.
Valerie handled the fourth man as Ronald hid under the table where the cages were. She grabbed the man and danced as graceful a waltz as she could manage with a lumbering woodsman whose breath reeked of stale beer and garlic-onion liverwurst sandwiches. She danced him right over to the window and let him go as Nesmith’s hooves sent him out the window with his comrades.
“Thanks for the dance,” Valerie called after him, “but next time, take a couple of dozen boxes of breathmints before you cut in!”
Dolenz and Jones ran circles around the fifth man as fast as they could. The man chased them until he was so dizzy, he could barely stand. He stumbled to the window, and Nesmith kicked him out.
Peter handled the second fisherman. He was stronger than the others and carried a long knife he wielded with the expertise of years of carving gigantic fish. “What did you want with this lady, anyway?” he asked, not noticing the southern accent creeping into his voice again. “Fishin’ and choppin’ wood ain’t that bad of a life.”
“Our boss Lord Henry came up to us last night at the tavern in town and said, ‘Hey, do you wanna make a quick buck?’ and we said ‘Sure.’”
Peter’s eyes widened, though it wasn’t apparent to his attacker. “Lord Henry Babbitt? What would he want with the princess?”
The man shrugged. “Dunno. Just said we were to hold her here until some kid went up there and got her. He promised us ten thousand simoleons up front. We still haven’t seen a penny of that money.”
Peter closed his eyes momentarly, trying to figure out why his father would do something as blatantly illegal as kidnapping the king’s daughter. Unfortunatly, this gave the fisherman the time he needed to catch Peter off-guard. He managed to knock the sword out of the boy’s hands, slicing through his glove and cutting his right knuckle in the process. He gave the sword a shove with his toe, sending it skittering out of Peter’s reach.
“I don’t know who you are, kid,” the fisherman snarled, “but I don’t like bein’ made fun of. I’m gonna take every cent Babbitt owes us outta your hide and the hides of your travelin’ zoo and the sissy boy under the table.”
Peter grabbed his bleeding hand and gulped, hoping this wasn’t the end. He brought his good hand up to shield himself from the blow, closing his eyes and waiting for the knife to come down.
The screech of a cat and scream of a woman startled Peter and made him open his eyes. Valerie ducked and whirled around the man with the air of a practiced swordsman, using the weapon Peter had lost. Sir Jones bit into his leg, while Dolenz scratched his back, meowing at the top of his lungs.
Peter finally got to his feet as Nesmith finally grabbed the man by the back and sent him out the window with the rest of his men. All five peered out the window to check on the men. They’d landed in a huge bed of soft, white glitter-covered mushrooms that had suddenly sprouted in front of the tower. The other knights were slapping them in chains as King James and his special squadron marched into the clearing.
“I guess this would be a good time to make our appearance,” Peter admitted with a crooked grin that was definately not his. “Your papa’s gonna want to see you.”
“Yes, but what about you?” Valerie asked. “Who are you?”
He shrugged. “Oh, just a man doin’ somethin’ nice for a lady.” He helped Ronald and Valerie onto Nesmith’s back. “I’m gonna bring you two back, then head out.”
“Can’t you stay?” Valerie asked. “Even just a little while? I’m sure my father will want to give you SOMETHING for rescuing me!”
He shook his head. “I don’t want money for rescuin’ you.” He gently took her hand. “Just your love.”
Before he could stop her, Valerie reached over and lifted his visor just a little bit to give him a lingering kiss. She was smiling and he was flabbergasted when they separated. “You have my love...Peter Tork,” she whispered.
Peter said nothing. He only nodded, lowered his visor, and turned to his horse as Dolenz and Jones climbed into the white satin pouch. “Nesmith,” he ordered, “take us home!”
The black stallion let out a happy whinny and galloped back down the glistening sides of the Glass Tower, much to the delight of the other knights, who cheered them on, and the shock of the thugs, the King, and the king’s guards. The moment Valerie and Ronald slid off the horse, Peter took off, dissappearing into the shadows of the forrest.
Valerie’s father embraced her. “My darling, I’m so glad you’re safe! Why did you run away?”
“I had to find that mystery man...and I did!” She grinned. “I know how to find him again. Father, let’s make the last trial a contest of musicians. I know of some knights and noblemen who are also fine musicians. We’ll give them a chance to show off their other skills.”
Her father smiled. “I know you do so love music.” He nodded decisively. “It’s settled, then. I’ll send messangers far and wide. The fourth and last trial will be a contest of musical ability.”
Ronald groaned when he heard the king’s proclamation. “Did you hear that?” He turned to his father. “I can’t play an instrument! I’ll lose the trials for sure!”
Lord Babbitt frowned. “Don’t worry, son. You’ll be king. I still have my potions and spells at home.”
“They haven’t worked yet,” Ronald muttered.
Lord Babbitt rolled his eyes. “That’s the other thing. I know that had to be Tork. I recognized the horse and the sword.”
“All I saw was a helmet,” Ronald whined. “He only let the princess raise his visor. I couldn’t see past her! He spoke in a southern accent, but it didn’t sound like his real one. It kept slipping in and out.”
Lord Babbitt smacked his son on the side of his head. “It WASN’T his real accent! Nesmith talks like that! He must pick up the voice and personality of whomever’s sword he’s using.” He smirked. “He’s out of swords now, and out of magic. He can’t conjure another one out of thin air.”
Ronald’s smirk almost matched his father’s. “Right.”
Chapter 8
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