CHAPTER 6: The Outfitting
"FOUR
DOZEN ARCHERS, SIX SAILING SHIPS..."
Jaffa al-Am pursed his lips:
“And as you request, a crate of figs.
But no—not one—no butchered pigs.”
The Khan’s grey eyebrows did several flips.
“Now wait awhile, what shall WE eat?!"
said the Prince of theArchers, who leapt to his feet.
“Look what results from eating figs & acorns,
berries & twigs.
We’ll look like NaMagnificent—a teat!”
The archers, plus some royalty,
burst out laughing racously.
Nam, who sat upon the floor,
cross-legged near the castle door, said:
“Words have never wounded me.”
“Alright, enough, we’ve a job to do.
Or rather, Nam, a job for you,”
said the Khan, consulting a manifest.
“So what about the rest?
Do you think this will be sufficient crew?”
Just then a scream of pain was heard,
followed by a nasty word.
The archers flinched, reached for their bows.
Had Snatchgrin slipped under the nose of
scouts whose straining vision blurred?
‘Check the seas! Eye the skies!
You never know when Snatchgrin flies.
He sneaks & slithers, charges & dives,
his breath like lava, his teeth like knives.
When Snatchgrin visits, someone dies.’
An
arrow cocked and ready to fly,
the Prince of the Archers peered one eye
out the door and down the hall, and cried: “Guards!
Has something breached the wall?”
The Prince heard no reply.
There followed a remarkable sight.
Down the hallway charged a knight,
pursued by a girl half his size.
What was even more a surprise,
the girl appeared to be winning this fight.
The Prince stepped into the hall. The knight came to
a halt. Breathless, he said, “Prince, it’s not my fault!
She snuck in the castle, I drew my sword,
she kicked it away and kicked ME, my Lord!”
The girl looked prepared for another assault.
Unstringing his arrow, the Prince shouldered his bow,
thinking the castle had become a sideshow.
“First Nam and now you, like dogs in the wild.
Have parents stopped keeping an eye on the child?
Now where were you trying to go?”
"I
am with Nam!" she asserted quite loud.
“My name is Alisa... Um, ‘Alisa the Proud!’”
She had no such title, it was all just a bluff.
But Alisa had always loved the sound of such stuff.
‘I’ll have such a title one day,’ she had vowed.
“Alisa the Proud?” said the Prince with a grin.
“Well, come on inside and greet ‘Nam the Thin.’”
The Prince shot the knight an evil glare.
Translated, it meant—’the dunking chair!’
A fate near as grim as a bout with Snatchgrin.
“Who have we here?” said the Khan to the Prince.
Alisa smiled broadly—all Nam did was wince.
“She says she’s with Nam,” the Prince said with a wink.
“Maybe a love slave, if you ask what I think.”
Alisa did something never done then or since—
she insulted the Prince.
“You have a tongue,” she said, “which favors
dung.”
The Prince blanched & recoiled
from having been so royally soiled
by one so puny and so young.
Before the Prince could return the goad,
the Khan said: “Remember Hammurabi’s Code, Prince.
‘Insult for insult, eye for eye.’
To your insult, hers was a reply.”
Out of the room the Prince then strode.
“The Prince has a temper and an ego to boot,
which sometimes combine to turn him quite mute.
Beware what you say, Nam, when the Prince will not talk.
He usually just needs to go take a walk,”
said the Khan as he picked up a platter of fruit.
He held out the plate to the girl and said: “Take.”
She picked a fresh orange from the trees by the lake,
an orchard untouched by Snatchgrin so far,
who’d managed most of the others to char.
To Alisa, the orange tasted just like a cake.
“So you are...” “Alisa,” she said between
bites,
wiping her hand on her light-purple tights.
“She’s not with me,” Nam suddenly said.
“I suggest that you feed her to lions instead.
Girls are just useless in dragon fights.”
“How do you know?” Alisa shot back.
“When was your last big dragon attack?
Some gypsies in town, who come & who go, say
you’re just a boy from a traveling show,
who rides animals around inside of a track.”
Once again, Nam lunged for the girl.
Again, the girl caught him and gave him a twirl.
“You should try something new,” she said with a smirk.
“Master Kim says: ‘Strategy resembles work.
It takes hundreds of oysters to find one pearl.’”
“Your Master Kim sounds very wise,” said the Khan
as he took his arms from his eyes.
“But please, no more sparring. One war is sufficient,
a war where good soldiers are proving deficient.
Every one of them fights and then dies.
“Whatever your past, Nam, you seem willing to wage
a tete-a-tete on Snatchgrin’s stage.
We must proceed. Shall the girl go, too?
The decision is soley up to you.”
Nam sat in a corner, stewing in rage.
Before he could answer, Alisa spoke out:
“Nam, think of the warriors brave & stout
who courageously walked into Snatchgrin’s den
and never were heard from ever again.
Doesn’t that give you the littlest doubt?
"Take me along! I’ll help you to fight
and kill the dragon in the dead of the night.
You know aikido, it’s like when you spar!
You have to be cool and more clever by far—
‘Strike now! Before the enemy sees the light!’”
“Master Kim! Master Kim! That’s all you know!”
cried Nam, whose rage had lost its glow.
“If you’re so tough & you’re so cool, then come along.
You’ll be my mule.”
Nam had worse plans, though.
Alisa’s eyes flared, then settled down.
A small smile soon replaced her frown.
She was smarter than this brat, she knew,
and figured she could see this through.
At last, a chance to leave the town!
“It’s settled then,” said Jaffa al-Am.
“We’ll add provisions for her, Nam.
Now, I suggest you both go rest.
You’ll soon be put to the highest test.
Oh, by the way, Alisa. Do you eat ham?”
Guards led them away and all left the room,
except for the Khan, who dropped into a gloom.
‘Snatchgrin,’ he thought. ‘We’re sending a feast—
a boy and a girl and a rather large beast.
We’re sending them off to their doom.’
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