A World of InTemperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 2) (12 page)

“You are strong in the Arts, girl, but you are no match for Lord Bar’Bazaul!”

“Hang in there, Miss GoldenBear, Ma’am! Oh gee, it looks like that mean Lord Bar’Bazaul is wearing our Miss GoldenBear down under a crushing psychic weight, y’all!”

“I hereby crush your mind with my indomitable will! Ha, ha!”

“Roof!”

“Keep that animal away from me!”

“Roof!”

“Get away, get away! I don’t like dogs! Aiiieee! It’s gotten under my frock! Ow! Ow!
Ow
-ee-wowwowowow!
Get him off me! Get him off! Get him off! Get him off!”

“Atta-boy, Bolt, good doggie!”

“Mr. Temperance, the winter wizard falls. I say, secure that sorcerer!”

“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am! I’ll yank his skirts up over his head and tie him up real quick with this rifle sling...woah! Don’t look, ladies! I reckon what goes for men in kilts, also applies to men in leather frock gowns!”

“Our Mademoiselle Abigail, released from the mental assaults, resumes her spell with the renewed vigour and confidence, oui.”

“May the noble win the day,”

“and Goodness never tire.”

“Let a Purge sweep this bay,”

“And be Cleansed, by Crimson Fyre!”

~FOO
OO
SH
!
!!~

“Eek! Our bonfire has erupted into a column of scarlet flame!”

~FOO
OO
SH
!
!! FOO
OO
SH
!
!! FOO
OO
SH
!
!!~

“Gee whiz, y’all, bonfires all over this valley are exploding!”

“I say, now is our opportunity for escape, eh hem?”

“Gosh, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am, you’re right! Let’s run for it, y’all!”

“Roight, that round of amber brew has given us a chance to cover a lot of ground, but it looks like the lights are coming back on for a monkey barrel of toadsters.”

“Yeah, well if one gets in my way, like this little froggy, then he’s gonna get clocked, like this!”

“Hein!”

“My word, Abigail, you sent that soldier through three complete revolutions before he returned to the tundra.”

“When I hit ’em, they stay hit, Persephone.”

“Oui, normally, such is the case with me, but Monsieur Bar’Bazaul recovered much too quickly.
~sigh~
Perhaps, I am losing my touch, no? No, perhaps I have become too kind-hearted. Oui, this I think is the more reasonable explanation.”

“Stop them, you fools! Don’t let them escape!”

“Uh, oh, y’all, it’s looking like Mr. Bar’Bazaul has been freed by his monkey minions.”

“Ja, and it looks as if he is again conjuring a diabolical spell of some kind.”

“If I may share an observation, I would direct your receptors to the narrow rocky pass that is our only avenue of escape. You might note, the snowy rocks tremble in preparation of a fall. It is my conjecture that Lord Bar’Bazaul is practicing a means of telekinetics upon the rocks. His intent is to trap us.”

“Hurry through everybody! Just keep running!”

“Here are our sentries on the other side! Let us advantage ourselves the element of surprise, mates!”

“Gosh, they really did not see us coming, did they? Hey, here are some horses! Let’s commandeer them and skeedaddle!”

“I am putting in a request for an especially gentle horse, please.”

“Yessir, Mr. Cogito. Tell you what, why don’t you just lay across the back of that there horse, instead of us trying to get you loaded?”

“Very good, Ichabod.”

“That debris blocking the pass won’t hold Lord Bar’Bazaul and his troops but for a few minutes, y’all. These horses need to hurry us back to our sleighs.”

“They are not very far away at all. Ja, here we are. Let us transfer quickly and make a run for Winniedepuh.”

“I say, may we spare just a moment toward for thought towards strategic planning please, eh hem?”

“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am, but something in the bearing of your features bodes difficulties ahead, I’m pretty certain.”

“What’s to plan? We continue to run for it, roight?”

“Well, yes, James; however, we run for it with an idea towards saving our imperiled planet.”

“Well, yeah, obviously.”

“I think it safe to say that every country that borders the Pacific Ocean, is threatened with being drawn into a horrible war.”

“Check, my cheeky Persephone!”

“Further, Europe foolishly prepares for war on a pace that is very unlikely to be deterred. Forces of evil are gathered to sweep in and destroy what is left of humanity, perhaps saving a few dregs for use as their slaves. As much as I loathe to suggest it, circumstances force us to once again split our forces.”

“Oh no, Miss Plumtartt, please, Ma’am, I couldn’t bear to be apart again!”

“I am afraid so, Mr. Temperance.”

“Nein, I vill not be separated from Mademoiselle Gauzot.”

“Please hear me out, Mr. Metzger; there is not much time. Now then, Mr. Murray is our expert in the Pacific.”

“That’s me!”

“Yes. In any case, you are burdened with saving that half of the world. You shall have Mr. Metzger to assist you in that endeavor.”

“Fraulein Plumtartt! I cannot abandon Mademoiselle Gauzot!”

“Oh! But I think you can, Wolfgang.” I inject. “This Persephone Plumtartt, she has the head screwed on right, I think.”

“Then it is up to you and me to save Europe, right, Miss Plumtartt? All right, then, come on, let’s get to it.”

I am shocked! Mademoiselle Persephone, her eyes moisten, her features soften.

“Oh, my sweet Mr. Temperance, I must send you on this errand without me.”

“No, Miss Plumtartt, I want you with me!”

Oui, the passionate plea almost persuades the Polar Princess, but, no, propriety prevails and she forces her demeanor to remain frosty.

“Hundreds of thousands of lives are depending on you, Mr. Temperance. Perhaps, millions. It may already be too late to prevent Western Civilization from burning itself to ash. Just as you must follow your honourable instincts, so must I obey my intuitions. To split our expedition is the best strategy at this juncture. Quite so, rather, I have every confidence, that if anyone has the wherewithal to save the European continent, it’s my tenacious hero, Ichabod Temperance.”

Persephone puts on the brave face to help her beau. I find myself in sympathy with the romantic young lovers as I watch this touching scene play out, I think, oui. The young people shyly clasp each other’s hands. Ichabod appears to be hiding his face from Persephone. I think he is embarrassed to display his emotions without the masculine control.

With a nuanced nudge, Persephone is able to wriggle her way into a soft embrace. This quickly evolves into a full and encompassing squeeze.

Their heads pull slightly back. Everyone turns away just a bit to give the two young romantics a semblance of privacy, but I take just a little peek!

The two lovers are so sweet and innocent. It pains me to see their naiveté. Oui. But they are so sweet. Their lips meet. Though they stand in a circle of friends, the sweethearts seem to be far away, and in a different place. The lonely kiss, so long in coming, now seems to extend into eternity. I can almost imagine a whirlwind of snow, not unlike some cyclone from America’s Kansas prairie, rising around them and carrying my dear Persephone and Ichabod to a distant and magical place, far, far away.

After a moment, they return. This time it is Persephone, I think, who has to turn her head, lest her features betray her.

“So, vhat of the ladies, then?”

“It is our understanding that there is one more link up on the food chain, that requires dealing with.”

“Oh! Oui! I think it is up to we three ladies to dispatch this mysterious hidden foe.”

“Hey, Ichabod, don’t worry about Persephone, I’ll take care of her. You, need to take Bolt and Cogito with you.”

“Yes, Ma’am, Miss GoldenBear, Ma’am.”

“You three ladies. Ja, the dark-haired Abigail GoldenBear, the auburn tresses of Miss Plumtartt, and the golden locks of Mademoiselle Gauzot. A brunette, red-head, and blond, hmm.”

“What’s this, Wolfie, some heavy, black paper?”

“Ja, James, but don’t call me that. Here are my shears. This will only take a moment.”

~snip, snip, snip~

“Ja, that just about captures vhat I vant. Here, I shall hold the black paper creation up against the red background of the sleigh.”

“I say, how charming; silhouettes! There are images of all three women emerging from a common center. A likeness of Abigail on the left, facing left. An image of myself on the right, facing right, with Mademoiselle Gauzot at the top.”

“Oui, Persephone, and look at how they are ready for the combats, no? Our brave Abigail, with her fearsome fists up. Persephone, with her hands open in the Auriental Martial style, and I, Mademoiselle Gauzot, am prepared with pistol in hand, oui!”

“James’ Dames, roight?”

“Nein, Schweinhund! These ladies work on behalf of Mr. Temperance. These are Ichabod’s Angels!”

“I say, we are out of time, my friends. Mr. Temperance, you, Mr. Cogito, and Bolt will take one sleigh, make speedy passage to Europe, and somehow prevent a tragic war. Mr. Metzger and Mr. Murray will take the other sleigh and somehow save every Pacific bordering country. We will proceed on horseback after our quarry.”

“Hurry mes amis, they are coming!”

“Now, you gentlemen run along and save the world, like good little boys.”

“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am.”

“Ja Wohl, Fraulein.”

“Now you ladies find a hidey spot up in the trees with your horses; we’ll get the pursuing monster army to chase after us in our sleighs!”

“What, that’s a terrible idea, Icksy! Wouldn’t it make more sense if the girls were a diversion for me...woap!”

“Sit down, James, you drive.”

“They’re here, y’all! Take off, Mr. Murray!”

“Git yer heathers in the sopper, you buckets of Bingerlong!”

We three ladies watch from our place of concealment. The sleighs have barely gotten under way, when hundreds of mounted troops come pouring through our clearing. Not like regular troops, these HellSpawn ride two, three, sometimes four or more to a horse. Their comrades can nearly keep up on foot.

Lord Bar’Bazaul’s steamer plows into the meadow. The monsters and their master quickly plunge after our heroes.

“Oui, so, some devilish mastermind has placed these devious machinations in motion, no? Come ladies, let us go and disrupt these fiendish plots, oui.”

P.O.V. Bolt

Bolt excited

Bolt happy

Bolt pack together

Bolt man Ick

Bolt red fur female

Bolt yellow fur female

Bolt big man

Bolt red fur man

Bolt black fur female

Bolt metal man

Bolt pack scared

Bad men coming

Bolt pack no stay together!

Bolt no happy!

Bolt want pack together!

“Come on, Bolt, jump in, buddy, we gotta take a powder!”

Bolt jump in Ick mover

Bolt in mover with Bolt man Ick and metal Bolt man

“Roof! Roof!”

Bolt warn pack

“Roof! Roof!”

Bad men are here!

Ick make horses pull mover

“Roof! Roof!”

Bolt tells females he not want them to leave pack

“Roof! Roof!”

Bolt warn bad men Bolt here

“Roof! Roof!”

Bolt excited

Bolt go fast

~Zing!~ ~Zing!~

Bad things goes by Bolt

Ick put Bolt safe place

~Bang!~

Bolt ears hurt!

Ick stick loud scary

~Zing!~ ~Zing!~

~Bang!~

Bolt no happy!

Horses scared

Bolt scared

Ick scared

metal Bolt man, Bolt no know

Bolt worried

Bolt scared

P.O.V. Wolfgang

“Ach mein Leiben! Vot are you do, James!?!”

James passes me the horses’ reins.

Vhy do I get stuck with Herr Murray? I should be protecting Fraulein Gauzot!

“Achtung, mein horses! Rouse! Rouse! I giddyap you now! Ja!”

The sleigh has barely gotten under way when we catch sight of the first onslaught of the filthy little creatures. I getten our sleigh out of the meadow first. Mein friend Ichabod is at the reins of the other sleigh, just behind.

I hold the reins, but the horses do the driving! They sense their monstrous pursuers and have no need of mein encouragements. Avay from the angry hordes behind us is the correct direction! I give the horses leave to follow their own prerogatives.

Herr Temperance’s sleigh is in pursuit of mein own sleigh, I think. Or his horses are following mein.

Nein! don’t be a fool, my friend!

“James! Herr Temperance is trying to shield us with his own sleigh! Don’t just cower on the floor like a frightened Kätzchen, do something!”

“Is he? Good on yer, Icky!”

“Nein! I don’t vont him to be killed!”

“Wotcha! You don’t want
ME
to be killed, do ya?”

I decline to answer.

The horses are on a headlong downhill flight. I have never traveled at this speed! Not even on a ship at sea during a Hurricane, have I moved at this velocity. The horses are mad with terror and I can only hope that they can maintain their footing/hoofing, in the treacherous, slippery, frozen winter wonderland. I wish I had some way of confining myself to the sleigh! It has almost thrown me clear a couple of times. Perhaps a belt, or harness. I will talk to Herr Temperance about this idea, should we survive our ordeal.

“James! Vot are you doing! Vhy are chou not helping!”

“Oh, sure I am Wolfie. Just gotta make a few adjustments on this little beauty.”

This insane Australian I share mein sleigh with, plays with his toys. A tiny little clockwork device is in his hands.

“Must you vhistle vhile you dally? Ach! You drive me pineapples!”

“Bananas.”

“Ja, zat too.”

“Whistlin’ helps me focus, Wolfie. For instance, if I was being chased down a slippery mountainside in an out-of-control sleigh with an irate, American-German chauffeur, being pursued by an army of armed, mutant frogmen, I might need the device of a whistle to distract me while I attempt the complicated assembly of a delicate devoice whilst in a bouncy conveyance.”

“Okay, vot are you making, James.”

“Well, it’s an assembly, actually. Ah, there we are, now all I have to do is attach the wings.”

The crack of rifle fire comes faster and faster.

A few bullets go over our heads and hit the trees around us.

I hear a different note in the rifle fire.

I look back to see Ichabod returning fire! He has given the reins over to Cogito, and is firing a confiscated rifle back at our pursuers from the rear of the sleigh.

“At’s a boy Icky-bod!” says James without looking up.

I glance over as James finishes the assembly of the tiny device. No bigger than the end of mein thumb, he inserts a key. Holding the folded wings tightly against the body, he deliberately turns the key, winding the spring inside.

Herr Murray removes the key, gives the brass bird a  little kiss, and then throws it up in the air!

A high frequency droning is heard as a golden, clockwork bird is freed. Almost like a bumble bee, a mechanical hum can be discerned for a fraction of a second, before disappearing into the night.

“Vot does it do?

“It flies away.”

“Vot about Herr Temperance?”

“Oh. I thought he did a swell job keeping those nasties away while I assembled and launched my ‘Homingbird’.”

“And vot is the purpose of this ‘bird’?”

“It'll make reservations for me.”

“Okay, we gotta decision. Which way? Left or right?”

“Go right, Wolfie, we’re headed back to Winniedepuh.”

I gather all the reins. I plant my feet for leverage. I lean into and pull to the right. Slowly, the horses respond and we avoid crashing into a stand of very stationary trees.

I glance back to see Herr Temperance take his team on the low road.

Good luck, Ichabod.

~Zing! Zing! Zingity-Zing! Zing! Zing!~

Now there is nothing between us and our pursuers! I did not realize how much cover Herr Temperance was providing! Bullets whizz around mein ears like impossibly fast hornets!

“James! Get back there and shoot back!”

“I’m a very valuable operative, Oi am. I might get hurt, and just where would my country be then?”

“James!”

“Okay.”

My reluctant partner climbs to the back of the sleigh and returns fire at these flying monkeys with their own munitions.

Now he fires to the side. Mein Gott! They are pouring through the woods! We are surrounded!

“Ach! James! There’s one riding our horses!”

~Bang!~
The crack of James’ rifle almost bursts mein eardrum.

“Gotcha!” smiles a satisfied James Murray.

“Ja, that was an easy one. Now there’s five more riding our horses!”

I spy an ugly device. A whip has been left for the driver’s use.

“Hah! I never thought I’d use one of these! I shall attend to the ones attempting to tear our horses’ ears off. James, you shoot anything else!”

“Wotcha!”

“Ja!”

~Crack!~

“Yipe! Whelps der monkee frog soldier boy as he abandons der horse.”

“For you, Meister Chimpaunzeekauf!”

“Ja!” ~
Crack!~
”
Yipe!”

“Ja!” ~
Crack!~
”
Yipe!”

“Ja!” ~
Crack!
”~
Yipe!”

“And you and you and you and you!”

Between James’ rifle work, and my new found skills vith zee Bullrope, maybe we vill make it to Winniedepuh!

I guard our sides with an ever-flashing leather sting.

Herr Murray is our rear guard.

I see lights ahead. They are the lanterns of a wagon. I know zat wagon... Of course! The wagon from the now defunct germ warfare factory. It got away just before Ichabod sent the factory to Kaputskiville. It is loaded with nasty, germy, bug warfare bombs. Our cross country course has been a short-cut to this wagon that travels so carefully.

Ah, yes, the lanterns of mein sliegh! Here is my lighter, I shall light this kerosene lantern, open it’s reservoir, and fling it upon the bad news buggie buggy as we fly past, like,
this!

As I had hoped, the kerosene fuel spills upon the packaged apocalypse. Flames welcome the wayward warfare wagon.

HAH
-
WAH
-BUH-
BO
O
OM-
SKIDY!!!

These little buggies never make it to zee market.

Neverzeeless, our howling horde still hounds us.

We are followed close at the heels by the cloud of an enraged crazy demon army making enough noise to give Winniedepuh warning that we approach.

“Vhich vay do I go, James?”

“Why don’t you just lead our baboon battalions on a parade down main street, Woof-Woof.”

“For the last time, mein name is Wolfgang, all right? Ach, alarmed residents are coming out to see vhat all the excitement is about, ja? The new target of sleepy citizens is distracting our HellToads.”

“Wotcha! Let’s change up, big guy.”

“Fine, guden luck driving these crazy horses. Hmm, mein rifle skills being vhat they are, I think I vill engage mein shaughtte-gun.”

BO
O
OM!!!

“Hah! Take zat Froggy!”

BO
O
OM!!!

“Ja! Ach! You are a mess Herr Toad!”

“Voah! Vot do you do James! Are you
trying
to getten us killed? You have lost your mind! You can’t force this hard of a turn on these horses! They do not vant to go charging back into the monkey swarm!”

“Sorry, me lovelies, Australia expects every creature to do her duty.”

“If vee live, I vill keell you!”

“Now, now, not to worry. Everything’s under control. I just had to make a minor course correction.”

“Course correction? Does that infer that vee have a direction zat you pretend to follow?”

“Of course vee, I mean, we, have a direction, Wolfie. It leads to our destination.”

“Destination?”

BO
O
OM!!!

“Vot destination? Our destination is not being killed and eaten, or just eaten, by frog boys.”

“And that has suited us well until this point; you and these fine horses returning us to Winniedepuh is just what the Witch Doctor ordered. Fine work, my lad.”

“I am not your lad! Und you should be more careful!”

~ker-snap!~

“Ach, it is too late! One ninety degree turn too many and you have snapped the tongue of our sleigh! Our horses run to safety vhile you and I careen through the icy streets of Winniedepuh completely out of control!”

“Krikey, these toads are feeling froggy! They’ve removed a large, steel, outdoor advertisement umbrella from the front of a gentleman’s apparel accessory store. The improvisational little monkeys have pried the point off, making the over-sized novelty display into a smooth-bottomed, round toboggan.”

“Cling to the sides of the sleigh, James und swing your weight back und forth to steer this two-railed, rudderless sled.”

“Roight, I gotcha, Rolph. Ho, ho, look, the little monkeys attempt to control their craft in the same manner, but merely succeed in spinning their jumbo-sized, steel-display, novelty, rain defense. Ho, ho!”

“Ach! Nein! Ee-yowsk! The unstable umbrella flies at us, its spokes extending from the edges, like some horizontal version of a gladiatorial fighting chariot’s wheel hub daggers!”

“Eek! Wolf-Man! Monsters are jumping aboard!”

“Ach! Vot a fiesty little beastie you are mein friend!”

“Zis little froggy gets flung out into the frozen loam.”

“Zis leetle froggzee is sent to roam.”

“Zis little monkee frog boy’z mouth starts to foam.”

“Und this little froggy yelps ‘vee,vee,vee,’ all zee vay home.”

I snap mein providentially sent whip as fast as I can to keep the umbrella bugs away.

“Ja! It hurtzenzee! Ja!”

Ach, mein whip has accidentally caught the center rod of the umbrella, holding tight, like some fictional action hero, able to preposterously snap his whip and safely latch onto unlikely supports to swingen to safety.

But I don’t vant it to hold!

“Eek! Wolfie, what are you doing? You have the sled lashed to the umbrella!”

“I didn’t mean to, James!”

“Eek! We’re spinning, Wolfie! The sled and umbrella are spinning faster and faster as centrifugal force increases the mad momentum, like a drunken discus thrower on a foolhardy dare.”

“Hang on, Wolfgang; if you let go, there’s no telling which direction we will be slung!”

“These hills are getting steeper and we keep moving faster! Augh! Vee caught some air as we sailed through that intersection! James, there is a street battle between the army frogs and the Winniedepuhvians at the bottom of the hill. We cannot escape plowing into them!”

“Release the umbrella, Wolfgang!”

The over-sized, novelty, display umbrella spins away and hits a pile of barrels. This collision launches the ship into the air! A group of fellow toad-chimps are caught beneath the craft. Screaming in terror, the frogmen vainly hold their arms up to protect themselves as the boat descends heavily upon them. Their Quest got jacked, Johnny. We Race past the Bandits. Zim, zim, salabim, ja!

“Look out, everybody, runaway sleigh!”

Our sleigh smashes into the fight at the bottom of the hill und throws combatants of both sides in all directions indiscriminately.

Vee
~crash!~
into the display window of a fashionable ladies’ boutique, casting glass and chiffon in all directions.

Ah, I find myself sitting up against the back vall, vhere I have ended a long slide.

“James! Vhere are you? I cannot see you anyvheres!”

A large hat, adorned with many faux flowers and plumed with enormous ostrich feathers, rises from behind a smashed parasol exhibit.

The ridiculous face of my erstwhile partner is eventually revealed from beneath the wide brims of its effeminate radiance.

“Nice landing, if I don’t say so meself. Follow me, Wolfie-Boy, let’s get back to the fight!”