Copyright 2013. PATG LLC. All rights reserved.

Chapter 2


In the village, below the spires,

All heard the bellows, and saw the fires.

And when the billowing blackening smoke,

Blocked out the sun, they fled, they choked.

Yet one lone subject, who visited there,

Did not run, but turned to stare.

Peering deep, he saw it too:

A floating bubble, glowing blue.

And when the bubble turned to green,

He sneered, and feared what it might mean,

For his King and for his Queen.

"What has become, of my masters!"

Thought the Blacksmith, as disaster,

Made his horse run fast, and faster.

Hard he drove it, by deduction,

Toward the castle and destruction.

Treacherous ran their road, and steep,

Winding deep, through prickle, and brush.

The biting roses, the devils thorn creep,

Fought against their galloping rush,

And horse’s flank, and Blacksmith’s hand,

Turned red, then split, then bled the land.

But not a second, or a plan,

Of laying down, felt beast, or man.

Stumbling, slipping, hooves a-tripping,

Clawing, scrambling, life bloods dripping,

Two strained bodies topped the rise,

Where dark despair, marked black their eyes.

For both dear loved their King and Queen,

And nigh of them could sign be seen.

Searching through rubble and acrid air,

They found the Giant’s footprints there.

On melted sands, in stomp-foot crater,

Knelt both, and wept, and hours later,

Blacksmith rent his leather shirt,

Where King had begged, down in the dirt.

Mad horse and man cursed out the thief,

‘Til sun set red, on land and leaf.

Vultures, fires and twinkling lights,

Feasted heavy that taken night.

But not a villain, beast, or fowl,

Touched sleeping horse or Blacksmith’s cowl,

For floating tendril’s magic sheen,

Approached them gently, in bubble glow green.

Then just as with each royal daughter,

To whom was smith a second father,

Glowing bubble light ascended,

Floating, floating, bright and splendid,

Enveloping him, with those it did,

When Giant tore off castle’s lid.

Through the night, and to the sunrise,

Horse, man, and girls, rested their eyes.

And when, at first light, Blacksmith woke,

He rubbed his orbs, and thought the scene,

Of what they saw, was just a dream.

But then, the magic bubble broke,

And girls awoke, and rushed to him,

Amid the morning mist and steam.