In the forest
The mighty forest
The squirrel sleeps tonight.
Except for this one night
When he was awoken
By a strange ‘un-forest-like’ noise…
“Ker-a-vick! Ker-a-vick! Ker-a-vick-ma!”
Squizzel (for that was his name) rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and shook his head to clear away his dreams of hidden treasure. He leant out of his bole-hole in an old Oak tree and listened carefully for the sound to happen once more.
In a short time…
“Ker-a-vick! Ker-a-vick! Ker-a-vick-ma-da-na!”
He heard the sound – which was more a single voice – coming from the direction of the fallen tree-trunk.
“I shall have to go take a looksie.” Proclaimed Squizzel, to nobody in particular. And he prepared himself for… “An ‘adventure!’ ”
Squizzel was an only child.
And he lived on his own.
But, he was a good squirrel, a red one at that, with a sense of humour and a love of squirrel-life.
He was also particularly brave. Or stupid about the dangerousness of danger. However, he had reached the ripe old age of three, and was an essential part of the forest scene.
Squizzel uttered his battle-cry “Chir-a-chir-chip!” and set forth.
Chapter 1 (including introduction)
To actually put pen to paper!
This is novel.
Try again with second pen (it pays to have backups).
This is a novel.
And, as you can see, my handwriting is not of the best.
It started off well; but, my neat handwriting ‘cannot’ keep up with my brain.
There is a ‘twenty-minute clarity clause’ to my words – after that time as elapsed, even I have some difficulty in working out what I have written. You can probably see that by now.
Which is why I prefer to write most of my words on my mobile – a laptop is okay; and a PC is alright; but, they are not that portable; and my ideas hit me at any ‘time of place!’
(Here I make a note of the phrase ‘time of place!’)
So, I sit here in the railway town thinking what to write.
‘Thin King Man’
The ‘Thin King’ was a man.
Most kings are – ‘men’ not ‘thin’ I mean.
He ruled his kingdom with a rod of steel…
…that was exactly one span in length; a ‘span’ being the distance from the king’s outstretched fingertip of his left hand, to the outstretched fingertip of his right hand (with arms stretched sideways, of course). This was decided many ‘kingly’ years ago by Bilasti the Mathematical; and has caused many problems over the centuries by the simple fact of kings being mainly of a non- standard stature.
However, that is a matter for another story, another time – a time other than the one that we have here, today.
The ‘Thin King’ was young and keen; he had been younger and less keen; but, Time can change a man – even a king.
Shall we give this ‘Thin King’ a name? It seems a little rude not to. We shall henceforth call him by his given name – that is, he was given it as a small boy and kept it safe since then – which name is (roll of drums and fanfare (as befits)… Kiriel! Which is as ‘made-up’ as it sounds; no kings let their real names be known, as evil beings could make ill-use of the knowledge.
So, Kiriel, was young, thin, and a king.
Was he married?
Was he kindly?
Actually, he was.
Was he strong enough to be a good king?
(Have you noticed this a little bit like a Q and A session – exactly like one, in fact).
So what is this story about?
I’m glad you asked. This story is the story of Kiriel’s search for a queen; his sending off of ‘Knights of the Realm’ (a rather grandiose term for a few adventurous types that desired to see the world) many of whom actually had seen the world and died from its diseases and battles.
And this story is ultimately about Kiriel’s finally getting up off of his oversize throne to go and find a queen for himself; but, disguised as one of his own servants. “I’ll call myself ‘Knight of the Realm, Sir Lanky-Lot (which was a huge pun for a ‘Thin-King-Man’.