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Max
Posted on Monday, June 19, 2000 - 10:31 pm:   Edit PostDelete PostPrint Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

CASTLE GUARD

By Max Gordon Phillips

A little red demon, a mocking leer on its ugly face, was standing on the stone parapet. Xavier looked at it, gripped his sword, and swung hard. But the demon danced easily aside, the sword whooshing harmlessly over the place where it had stood.

Xavier had a magic sword, designed to cut down any and all demons that dared to venture within range. He remembered when he had first received it ñ those exciting days when it was so new and shiny. He had spent his night watches sharpening and polishing it while scanning the countryside for any sight of the enemy.

But those were days long gone by. No enemy had come. And during the intervening years his sword had become a little dull and perhaps a bit rusty. He guessed he might have even been just a little remiss in keeping it in mint condition.

It was depressing to think about. And the sun was getting rather hot today. He decided to go over and see how Albrecht was doing.

Albrecht was stationed in the shade, sitting against a parapet, his feet sticking out like two chubby armored carrots. His eyes were squinting as though looking for out over the countryside, looking intently for the enemy. But Xavier could see that his eyes were shut.

Albrecht seemed to be sleeping more and more these days. It was as though he had lost interest in keeping the watch. Little red demons were circling about his head like arrogant bats.
Xavier unsheathed his rusty sword and tapped Albrecht on his helmet. ìHey, wake up!î

Albrecht opened one eye. ìI wasnít sleeping,î he said. ìWhatís the matter?î

ìYouíve got demons flying around your head.î

ìIíll get them! Iíll get them!î said Albrecht, his enthusiasm sounding forced. He grabbed his sword, pulled, had difficulty getting it out of its scabbard.

It was rustier than Xavierís and shedding reddish brown flakes. It was the first time, in fact, Xavier had seen it unsheathed in months, perhaps years. Albrecht, it seemed, never bothered with his sword anymore.

ìWhy are you getting so excited all of a sudden?î said Xavier. ìItís been years since you hit a demon. What makes you think you can hit one now?î

ìItís important to fight the red demons,î said Albrecht. ìI always fight them. I fight them more than you. Iíll be Iíve killed more than you. It keeps me in practice for the day the enemy comes.î

ìWhat makes you think the enemyís coming, anyway?î queried Xavier. ìWeíve been guarding this castle day and night for years, and no enemy has come yet. You might as well go back to sleep.î

ìYou mustnít say that! Of course the enemyís coming! And I wasnít sleeping! I was just sitting here resting while I was keeping watch on the horizon. You ought to be ashamed of yourself for even thinking such a thing, much less saying it!î And with that he pushed out his pudgy pink lower lip.

But Albrechtís face was almost as red as the demons he was chasing, as though he really was ashamed of himself, as though he really was trying harder to convince himself that Xavier.

Xavier thought of that as he watched him but decided not to point it out. He didnít care much for pointing out Albrechtís hypocrisy anymore. Albrecht never got the point anyway.

And right now he had something more important to say, even though he knew Albrecht wouldnít understand. He had to say it to somebody, anybody.

ìAnd what if the enemy did come? We wouldnít be ready!î he blurted out, knowing Albrecht would misunderstand but no longer caring.

ìOur swords are rusted. The castle walls are old, crumbling down. We havenít spent time building them up. The gate needs repair. It wouldnít hold out long against a big battering ram. We think weíre doing well when we stay awake long enough to battle the red demons. You and I both know we wouldnít even notice the little demons if we were really fighting the enemy.î

He could see the pressure building up inside Albrechtís armor until he seemed almost ready to explode. Albrecht couldnít understand an attack like this. He could only react to it with grunts, loud words and threatening gestures.

ìYou mustnít talk like that!î he raged, shaking off his sleepiness and matching, outdoing, Xavierís own fervor. ìItís wicked! This is our sacred castle. Itís been here for thousands of years. You ought to be discharged for that.î

He tried to jamb his sword into his scabbard for emphasis, but it got stuck halfway. ìIt doesnít matter if our swords are rusty. Theyíre still magic. We can fight anything. Weíre invincible! And we might as well fight the red demons. At least they give us something to do while weíre waiting for the enemy.î

In the face of Albrechtís superior rage Xavier thought of backing away. He had never argued like this with Albrecht before. Albrecht seemed immune to reason when he was under attack. He consistently interpreted any form of criticism, however mild, as a direct attack upon the very essence of himself and the castle.

But this time was different. Xavier just had to scream out what had been building up within him for so long, even though there was nobody there to understand. It would at least give him the satisfaction of knowing he had tried.

ìThatís just the trouble! We havenít been fighting the war!î he roared back at Albrecht, surprised at his own intensity of feeling. ìItís gone away and left us, and we donít know where itís gone or even what it is anymore! Weíre spending so much time worrying about these silly little demons that weíve forgotten all about the war!î

He was drawing in breath for another blast at Albrecht when a third sentry ñ Averrhoes -- came running up, his armor making an excited clank clank clank on the stones.

ìMan the ramparts! Man the ramparts! Man the ramparts!î he shrieked. ìIíve sighted the enemy! Itís huge! Enormous! And itís moving this way!î

Albrecht began running around in a title little circle, as though looking for a weapon to grab. Then, as though suddenly remembering, he began tugging on his rusted sword, already half out of its scabbard. At last he pulled it free and waved it aloft.

ìI told you so!î he triumphed over Xavier. ìI knew the enemy was coming! I knew it! And you didnít! I never gave up the faith like you did! I donít know what youíve been waiting for. But this is what Iíve been waiting for! Nowís our chance! We can conquer the world with our magic swords!î

From out of the hills far down the road, faintly at first, came the sound of engines: troop carriers, tanks, motorized guns, rocket launchers. Suddenly overhead zoomed jet fighter bombers and giant transports.

The troop carriers, open-topped in the balmy weather, moved like army ants over the rough potholed dirt road that ran by the castle. Solders in fatigues and helmets stared upward at the medieval castle and the three antique men in museum armor waving rusty swords.

ìCome on! Come on!î Yelled Averrhoes at the vehicles rumbling directly beneath him. ìStorm the ramparts if ye dare!î

ìWeíve got our magic swords!î yelled Albrecht, brandishing his at the surprised face of a young captain in a jeep just below his outpost. He leaned as far out over the road as he could, hanging on to a merlon with one arm. ìYou might as well give up!" He bellowed. ìIf you donít weíll slice you to ribbons with our magic swords!î

But the convoy did not give up, did not prepare for siege, did not encircle the castle, did not slow down, did not speed up, just moved on, truck after truck, tank after tank, lumbering on past the castle and on down the long dusty road.

Some of the soldiers did not even bother to look up at Xavier, Albrecht, and Averrhoes, standing on the crumbling walls, brandishing their rusty swords.

But some did. Some laughed and laughed and were still laughing as the army snaked its way over the hills and out of sight.

When it was gone and all was silent again, Xavier stared at Averrhoes and Averrhoes stared at Xavier. Each had opened his mouth to say something when they both noticed Albrecht.

And Albrecht, with suddenly renewed vigor, was chasing a pesky little red demon with his rusty sword.

ìIíll get you!î he screamed at it. ìIf itís the last thing I do, Iíll get you!î
___________

Copyright 2000 by Max Gordon Phillips

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