Trembling With Fear 02/27/2022

Flight of Fancy by Robyn O’Sullivan

A girl’s voice rang out in the late afternoon stillness of a hot summer’s day. “Prince!” she called. “Come back, Your Majesty.” But the royal fox terrier kept running towards the shadowland.

Kathleen called again, her voice echoing around the ancient eucalyptus trees that encircled the mythical realm of Glōwan. 

“Prince, I implore you. If the ogre should find us in the shadowland, he will most certainly imprison us.” 

The wiry, little dog returned, and Kathleen bent to pat his head. “Now, Your Majesty, to the Royal Chamber. As heir to the throne, you must review the battle plan to avenge Mother Queen’s death.” 

Kathleen and Prince moved quickly through the woodland of Glōwan until they reached the giant Blackbutt tree once struck by lightning. Wriggling through its hollow trunk, they entered the Chamber. Kathleen parted the gossamer curtains, spun by Huntsman spiders, and walked along the wildflower carpet towards the royal dais. Prince trotted past her and took his position on the throne, attended by wattle-blossom fairies arrayed in garments of the richest gold. Kathleen brandished her sword in a wide flourish and touched its grip to her forehead. Returning the stick to her belt, she bowed low.

“Ah, Sovereign Prince, the gumnut goblins are close at hand. We must call our soldiers to arms.” 

Prince barked, indicating his assent. Two fairies fluttered into the air, landing on the sacred horn. Reaching up, Kathleen reverently took the gum leaf from its ceremonial bough and blew a secret alert on it, bringing paperbark soldiers scurrying on the wind. 

Kathleen emerged from the hollow. Standing tall, she called the warriors of the realm to attention and addressed them.

“Soldiers of Glōwan, recall our last battle with the ogre’s goblins. Many warriors were slaughtered, and the ogre destroyed our Mother Queen. Not only life, but freedom was lost that day. The enemy pursues us even now. This time we must be wholly victorious.”

Kathleen strode the ranks, issuing orders, shouting commands. She limped now and again, impatiently flicking a hand at her bandaged knees: legacy of another conflict.

A kookaburra sentinel swooped onto a bough of the Blackbutt and emitted a full-throated call, reporting the position of the goblins.

“We must advance to meet them,” Kathleen cried. Withdrawing her sword, she swung the stick through the air to rouse the soldiers. “To avenge Mother Queen, I will lead you to victory against the enemy.”

Kathleen sheathed her sword and dropped to the ground. Raising her hand, she motioned the soldiers to follow, then crawled on her belly to the chosen battle site. Quietly awaiting the foe, Kathleen mentally reviewed her plan of attack. 

She was ready.

When the enemy appeared, Kathleen sprang up and lunged forward with loud whoops to rally the soldiers. Brandishing her sword, she twisted this way and that, slaying and scattering all gumnut goblins that foolishly dared to cross her path. They writhed about, frenzied by her whirlwind swordsmanship, which caught them up and finally drove them away out of Glōwan.

Flushed and heady with the thrill of combat, Kathleen returned to the Royal Chamber where Prince awaited her. 

“Sovereign Prince, I come to report that victory belongs to Glōwan this day.”

The little fox terrier made a lusty response.

“Majesty, I am honoured. But even though his goblins have been dispersed, the ogre himself is yet to be vanquished. I await his appearance at twilight.”

Prince scampered around Kathleen as she wriggled out of the hollow on her belly. Light filtered through the trees, dappling the leafy matting that covered the earth. She rolled onto her back and the warmth of the sun spread through her body like an elixir. With Prince stretched out by her side, Kathleen gazed at the sky through the canopy of trees. Fluffy clouds drifted by, revealing a battle: dragons in mortal combat with heinous devils that bellowed and scurried frantically as fiery breaths scorched their tails; silver-armoured knights on horseback galloping into the fray; the flash of sabres streaking across the heavenly screen. 

Lopped heads. 

Severed limbs. 

Utter defeat of the wicked creatures. 

A wind rustled the foliage above, sprinkling Kathleen’s face with seeds and fine-grained powder from the gumnuts. Fairy dust: symbol of that magical power of goodness over evil. She gently smoothed it across her cheek—

“Where are ya?” 

A male voice boomed out, rough and thunderous. 

The sky darkened. Kathleen flinched. She looked at the fairy dust on her fingers: the magical power over the ogre. Now was the time for bravery. 

Rolling onto her bandaged knees, she crawled awkwardly into the hollow. 

The voice rumbled again. “Little mongrel! Where are ya?”

Heavy feet pounded across the ground. Leaves crackled and scattered. Birds fled from the trees. Wattle-blossom fairies disappeared into the waning sunlight. 

“Come here! Come here right now! I swear, when I find you, I’ll whip the life out of ya.”

Kathleen lay in the hollow, still and quiet, fear suffusing her body. Her fingers found a gum leaf. If only it was the sacred horn that could call the paperbark soldiers. Prince gave a low growl. Kathleen touched her finger to her lips and then to his, silencing him. Extending her arm, she drew Prince close and stroked the wary dog.

“Fear not, Your Majesty,” she whispered. “I, Kathleen, will defend Glōwan from the scourge of the shadowland. The forces of evil shall not overtake us.”

Prince shivered. She put both arms around him. 

“Hush,” she murmured. “We must be very quiet, so he doesn’t hear us. The ogre can only hurt children if he finds them.”

But Kathleen knew her father would find her. 

He always did.

“Forgive me Mother Queen. Have I failed to protect your daughter?”

A sob rose from a hidden place deep within Kathleen’s chest. She bit her lower lip: the fear must be controlled. 

“Mummy.” The faint word was like nectar in her mouth. She huddled deeper into the hollow until the charred inner timber scraped her back.