Feeling Gravity's Pull

"Do you want to keep pushing on?" I asked The Bishop.

Undecided, he remained silent in front of us, looking off of the main road and down the slope to the valley below and the mountains beyond.

The Lizard was due back in the citadel, her ascension ceremony and appointment as Ambassador for The Order being imminent. Thus, after a continued silence, I turned to her, expecting the usual nod for me to continue forward down the path, but she simply stared at our friend, a pained look in her eyes.

It had been a rough journey. The Master had worked his arcane art to restore the power of The Bishop's visions. The results were mixed, prompting a long recovery of my friend's body and mind.

But it was his spirit that was most in need of rebirth. The Order had refused The Bishop leave to see The Master, and I sensed an infinitesimal weight had tipped unseen scales.

"It's ok." The Lizard broke the silence. "I now know it's the right thing for you to do."

The Bishop nodded, embraced her and said, "Send me word of your final decision on accepting the post, and I'll let you know how I fair. Our paths may run parallel and allow us to ride together."

Grasping my hand, he instructed, "Make sure she reaches the citadel," and then he turned down the slope.

We watched him, moving away from us, into the valley toward the sun.

The Lizard started to cry.

"Are you sad because you are afraid of what events he has started in motion?"

"No Genghis, I'm happy for him. By bravely letting that slope carry him away from his closest friends, he is deciding to end a long cycle of abuse."

I contemplated this, offering "When you are safely back at the citadel, I will set out to accompany him."

"Good," The Lizard approved. "He'll benefit from your strength."

"Certainly, but I'm curious to see what occurs in that valley and over those mountains!"

The Karma of Coffee

It had been a good morning ride - bright and cool, steeds swift and sure. The aroma of my beverage filled my senses as I watched The Lizard consume porridge outside the roadside cafe, while simultaneously keeping conversation with a two other, obviously bewildered, patrons.

A tara approached with her driver. She was voluptuous, and atypically clad, but exuding pleasant compassion. They entered the cafe, and we continued relaxing with our second-breakfast.

As the tara exited the cafe, her servant carried her meal and his beverage to their conveyance. Helping her up, he laid his beverage upon the cab of their carriage. Forgetting his drink, he entered after her and prepared to disembark.

"Your coffee!" The Lizard projected, unheard by either the tara or her driver.

In typical form, The Bishop had already moved forward, clumsily covering the space between our table and the carriage. The driver looked concerned at first, The Bishop focused on arresting any movement of the carriage.

The tara simply looked puzzled, seeming to understand The Bishop meant no harm. Her visage transformed into a smile, as The Bishop reached up above the carriage, grasped the driver's cup, and carefully placed it in the owner's hand. The Bishop turned as quickly as he had started and returned to our table, his duty fulfilled.

The tara called after him, "You've earned yourself much coffee-karma, my good ecclesiastic."

The Bishop appeared to politely acknowledge the tara's blessing, but I could see his hue change perceptibly.

"He deserves good karma," The Lizard whispered, "after all he has been through these many months."

"These many years." I corrected, and took another draught of my coffee.

It was a fine morning indeed.

The Tree Pirates

"It's as if she were bleeding her last."

"I prefer to think she is crying." The Lizard corrected, as we both looked at the stump, siphoning groundwater to the surface. I did not offer an argument, sensing Lizard's loss.

What the storm had started, the motley troupe of tree pirates had finished off. Regardless if their fervor was based in euthanasia, or entrepreneurial motives, they made quick work of the laced bark.

Sunshine now took collateral damage on the ferns that had once sheltered beneath a majestic canopy.

Two Flags, Red and Black

CGC Phoebe stood at her post as daybreak filled the darkened room. I sipped the tea Lizard had made for me after she had awoken from a deep sleep.

The cyclone had given us a rough ride, but The Bishop had labored long, directing our efforts in preparation these last few days to fortify our dwelling. He had stood watch overnight, shoring up the defenses where necessary.

He looked tired, and I was surprised when he said, "We'll have our work cut out, clearing debris, once the gale subsides."

I nodded, and asked, "What do you think the worst part of last night's experience was? The high winds rocking our quarters? Or perhaps the rain seeping through unseen cracks?"

"Well, if I were to be pressed," The Bishop answered, his eyebrow raised knowingly in my direction, "I'd have to say The Lizard's snoring."

AKC CGC

The Bishop and The Private came sprinting out of the training grounds, relief on the face of the latter, a proud smile lighting the former's visage. They raced past me at full speed, bounding on the trail near the woods.

The Lizard also exited, and seemed happy, but tired. I walked over to her, and asked, "I trust it went well?"

"It was amazing. The Private was the only student in her class to pass all the tests."

"Splendid!" I replied, "You led her well, then."

"That's the amazing thing, Genghis." She said, watching our compatriots celebrate near the trees. "When things seemed to be breaking apart, and I was getting nervous and frustrated, The Bishop suddenly took the lead, making course corrections as necessary. The Private took to his commands and executed... almost flawlessly!"

"The Bishop has been known to rise to the occasion when the chips are down, but I'd be willing to bet neither of them would have been successful if you hadn't provided your special recipe of hard work and communication." My comment made her astonishment turn to a full, and satisfied smile.

We continued to watch The Bishop and The Private gambol about, with a word of praise every now and then being tossed by The Lizard in their direction. It was good to see them happy, especially The Bishop, since so many days of recent past had been sorrowful for him.

"It's hard to comprehend that The Private will get promoted." I contemplated aloud.

"Comprehending won't be the problem. Putting up with The Bishop's pride in his protege' may be the issue, " she correctly noted.

Please Bathe Regularly

I was enjoying myself, certainly, but I felt a bit out of my element. In fact, at times, a bit uncomfortable. The Bishop and Incan seemed to revel in the strange and unique air at the conference, and I'm sure part of their happiness lay in the fact they were able to see one another - old friends sharing conversation.

I was beginning to feel less out of place, but then came across a "ground rule" request, posted prominently in the conference schedule. Reading over the statement several times to be sure I hadn't imagined it, I turned to Incan and asked, "Are they joking? Having a little fun with a stereotype, right?"

Incan tilted her head to look at what I was reading. Her shoulders slumped in slight embarrassment. "Unfortunately, no." She admitted, letting it out slow, resigned breath.

27 inches of good times

"It lasted 17 years?"

"Yes. It was dependable, entertaining and of noble quality," The Bishop remarked.

I was amazed... Both at the implement's longevity and The Bishop's characteristic loyalty to his tools.

Like a Pet

We finished our coffee, embraced, then turned away. Silence followed for a good while, broken by The Bishop, a mix of bitterness and sorrow in his voice.

"First Sarge, now three more. I feel like we are fighting a losing battle this year."

I pondered what he said, and offered a positive thought: "Well, at least they chose their path, and hopefully will be happier for it."

The Lizard looked hopeless, tears in her eyes. "The Keeper was so sweet and focused, and The Doughnut was like a little sister."

"And The Booger?" I asked.

"Well, he was sort of like.... a pet."

I couldn't help but smile.

Inner Hardware

"All that was inside of her?"

The Bishop nodded as he inspected the items. I was amazed.

"Is she in pain?"

"Much less now." The Bishop explained. "The hardware supported part of the spine as it fused, but the bone above started to fail. They had to pull out the old metal, then add new support at the failure."

"I hope she stays clear of big magnets."

One Arming It

"Thank you!" Booger yelled.

As we sped by on our steeds, I looked over to see an old woman by the side of the road, straightening from a bent position and smiling back at us.

"What did she do?" I asked.

The Bishop responded, his words separated by the pulsing rhythm of his steed "She - was - pick - ing - up - rub -ish."

I turned to take another look at the charitable soul.

She had one arm.

"How did she lose her arm?" again I queried.

"Not sure," said Booger, "but she's doing more with her one arm than the lazy fools who dropped their trash across our countryside."

I nodded and sped onward, making a note to lend both of my good arms to extricate the next bit of debris I came across.

Conveyed by The Congon

The Bishop and I hailed transportation at the port as we disembarked, since speed was of the essence.

"Where are you from?" I asked the driver, hearing his accent.

"I'm Congon," he happily replied as we made our way into the city, mountains forming and impressive backdrop on this clear and sunny day.

"What brings you here, so far from your land by the river?"

"I followed a girl," he replied, and I turned a knowing grin toward The Bishop. But The Congon added, "She did not love me, and took my daughter far away."

My smile faded, and The Bishop chimed in, "But at least you are here, in a prosperous land?"

"Yes, " The Congon agreed, "it is much better than the refugee camps."

"War?" I inquired.

"No," he explained, "I was a student, and protested the corrupt government, so the tyrant closed the school and persecuted us. I fled to a neighboring land where they sent us to camps."

"So these camps were unpleasant?" The Bishop inquired.

"Yes. The people were in a terrible state - disease, no food, insects. Fortunately, good people from your country noted me as worthy to come here."

He continued, "I got a job, but met a girl - so beautiful! She had my daughter, then broke my heart by leaving me. I left my job and used my money to try to be closer to them, but they moved again. And now I'm stuck here, dreaming of my daughter and hoping one day I can make enough money to buy unspoiled land in my home country."

I felt thankful for my minor inconveniences, and when we departed The Congon's conveyence, I nodded approval as The Bishop added a few more coins to the fare.

Iron Chair of Pain

The Bishop was admiring the cooling breeze in the garden, so unusual for this time of year. My attention was drawn to a robin, worm prey firmly in beak, when I heard The Bishop cry out: "My Lord!"

I turned to see my friend bolting away from an iron chair he had attempted to sit in, rubbing his arm. I noted that the chair was flanked by two blue agave.

I chuckled, and The Bishop remarked, "Who would set up a torture apparatus in such a beautiful garden?"

"They are special, pups from a plant over 100 years old." The Lizard chimed in from across the garden.

The Bishop didn't seem impressed, so I tried to cheer him up, "Well, if they didn't get you with their spines, I'm sure their contribution to the margaritas would have taken you out in the end."

Discrimination

"I would think that you would be the most outraged, Genghis, considering the history of your race." The Bishop noted as we stood outside the doorway, staring at the offending signage.

"I've learned to expect as much," I replied. "Besides, The Private seems to not mind staying here at the gate, as long as she can have a drop to quench her thirst."

"Perhaps we should point out that their own children pose more of a health risk than our good comrade at arms? Maybe that will lead them to reason."

"True, but I think it will be useless -- prejudice knows no reason."

The Hump's Hammer

I was glad to see The Earl of Humphrey ride up on his powerful black steed. The Bishop and The Lizard, after years of negotiations with several generations of leadership from the neighboring land, had arranged for the destruction of The Dead and Dangerous Trees. Now all that was left to rid our lands of the foul stench and fetid waters which had stagnated in our realm, was the demolition of the fortress-dam the undead flora had erected.



"You're arrival is timely, Hump. I'm in need of your power and strength!"



"No worries," The Earl replied, "I'll just need a implement to begin our work."



I placed the ancient hammer in his hands. He looked at the weapon, smiled and swung it high above his head.



Stone, wood and rock splintered under his mighty assault. Water and mud splashed high in great geysers as the debris fell. The locals moved for cover, but peered backed from safety at the mighty titan.



When The Bishop insisted he wear a visor to protect him from the shrapnel, I spelled my friend, concentrating on some particularly stubborn areas of the dam.



From both our efforts, slowly the fortress began to give way. And when, at last, one portion of the wall remained standing, The Hump delivered a final, deafening blow. The sundered fortress allowed the waters to flow. But I looked into The Earl's hands and realized the victory had a cost: the ancient hammer had broken under The Hump's mighty strength!



He gazed upon the two pieces that remained of his weapon and declared, "This good tool deserves a place of honor."



"It certainly does," The Bishop remarked, and added, "As do you... at our table for such fine service to our cause!"



This made both our spirits rise, and we ambled off to reap our victual rewards.

Sisters of the Shinai

"They used what?" The Bishop seemed perplexed.

"A shinai. It's a practice sword."

"Yes, Genghis, I know what it is," he replied, "I was talking about the other 'weapon'. It seems so... strange."

"Well, apparently The Donut found the doors to her inner keep ajar. Quite concerned that a band of brigands had broken into her abode, she summoned The Lizard."

"Prudent, and I'm sure that the shinai was chosen as a weapon of opportunity," The Bishop said, then added, " but what were they going to do with that door to a dog crate?"

The Dharma Flute

The Bishop was intrigued, and questioned our server: "What wonderful tones, is it a bass flute?"

"Yes, it's twice as long as a normal flute," was the reply.

"I think I need to meet this fellow with an extra long flute ," I informed the table, adding, "to compare notes." I then pulled on my glass of Turkish pilsner, cooly ignoring both the glare of The Bishop, and the laughter of The Lizard.

Clear, Cool, Dry and Sunny

"Say that again." The Bishop commanded, disbelief in his voice.

"'63°F, Clear. Wind West at 0 mph. Humidity, 45%'" I repeated, reading from the report.

"It's supposed to be a mosquito infested, water saturated, sun-broiled hell-hole this time of year. What's going on!" The Bishop looked around amazed.

"Galactic climate change." The Lizard stated as a matter of fact, bending to sniff a carissa blossom.

We both turned to her, smiled, and I added "Well, such an event calls for a galaxy sized beer!"

The Finger

"It's a long story," The Bishop replied to my inquiry.

"OK, but at least tell me if it involves any underaged boys," I requested...

Soon I understood what the label on the bottle meant.

Devilish Oxymoron

Normally I feel that The Bishop can be a bit painfully acerbic with his criticism, even when the criticism is due.



However, in this case, I think he hit the nail on the head with the witty analysis of the situation we found ourselves in.

Shade... Swedish Style

"I want something lighter, how about the ravioli?"
"Certainly. Since you aren't from here, you should know the ravioli shell is not pasta, but raw meat."
The Bishop paused, not knowing what to say.
I stepped in.
"I normally eat raw meat, but we had a tough night last... Can you bring us 'mac-n-cheese'?"
"Certainly"
"Wait!" The Bishop interjected. "What are the noodles made of?"

Swedish Shell Game

I glanced around the platform to ask one of the local citizens, but none could understand me, so I turned back to The Bishop who was examining the three receptacles.

"Is it like the two buttons, or the three shell?"

"I'm not sure," he replied, staring down into the one on the far right.

"Well, do we segregate our rubish according to shape? Round peg in the round hole?"

Bishop nodded, "Perhaps you are right."

"Thought so. Let me see what happens when I try to stuff your ticket into the round hole."

An expected furrowed-brow-stare turned my confusion into mirth.

Strange Ambassadors

"The ambassadors of this land seem... strange. They sing to us in our language, but it makes no sense" The Bishop observed.

"Yes," I agreed. "And who is 'Fernando'?"

Profound Disappointment

I expected The Bishop's lips to be set in a thin line - the typical sign when he became angry at transgressions perceived or real.

But his lips were relaxed. His eyes distant, sad.

This concerned me. I moved over to him and tilted my head in query.

"I ran out of giving to those who can't even say 'thank you'," he stated.

He continued, resentment lightly coating his words. "When others required support, or guidance out of the storm and darkness, I put my energy towards their needs. When someone wanted an adventure, I'd take their path so that they would not be alone, even when it wasn't the path I would have chosen."

"I asked for nothing in return but respect and friendship."

"But the times when I asked for them to take my path, their ears turned away deaf. When my soul required comfort, they demanded the more of me, blind to my heartache. When I finally had to ask for friendship, they chose their own whims over me."

This was true, but I offered: "The Lizard would forgive."

He bowed his head. "In this, I look up to her example, but am unable to yet achieve it. She is compassion and grace even when others do her wrong as Stormy did. She simply shines her light on other things."

I nodded, remembering Stormy's dismissal. I had been disgusted at how thoughtlessly she had treated The Lizard.

Looking up at me, tears fell from his eyes. "I've lost so much lately, and I can't pretend or let these many stones flung upon me to roll off my back. At some point, you have to protect yourself. Despite my heart of a crusader, if not allowed to right a wrong, prudence would require that I turn away."

The army officer in me agreed that a tactical withdrawl often serves your cost best, but I asked: "Forever?"

He put his hand on my shoulder and answered. "I still have friends, like you, who I am thankful for. With that, comes hope, and all things are possible."

I smiled.

"But I wouldn't delay dinner just yet waiting. I'm hungry." The Bishop added with his own self-aware smile.

Frequent Film Quotes

Incandragon came up with a good post recently:
http://incandragon.livejournal.com/250574.html?view=1648846#t1648846
She asked to identify the motion picture quotes she uses frequently in everyday life. Only one overlapped with one of mine ("Mostly") and so I thought I would throw a few out there and see if anyone could guess the movie. Some are quite easy, I'm sure...

"I feel a presence..."

"You're still alive, old friend"

"I am a leaf on the wind"

"No capes!"

"Negative Ghost Rider, the pattern is full."

"We're dangerous at short distances."

"So I figure I've got that going for me."

"The overide. Where's the overide!"

"As in 'to swing' "

"And if frogs had wings they wouldn't bump their ass a hoppin' "

"There she is!"

Dead and Deciduous

"That there is a Dead and Dangerous Tree", the Urban Forrester proclaimed.

The Lizard beamed with happiness -- a run in with the more radical druids in her sect could be avoided. She moved forward to pat the 4 foot thick trunk, a long life having been lived.

The Forrester grabbed her: "I wouldn't get too close if I were you."

Special Competitors

"Well, I tend to like sporting events when the score is close. Means the competitors are evenly matched," I replied.
"Even when you are competing?" Bohunk asked.
"Especially when I'm competing."
"Not me. I like it when my opponent is underskilled."
"Really?"
"Yes... Special Olympics level... And I'm not talking the ones who get a medal..."

Courageous Hannah

The Bishop cradled Sarge's head in his hands, quiet whispers encouraging her companions more than the old soldier. She had, afterall, possessed far more determination and courage than any one of us.

The Lizard touched her old friend with tears in her eyes, but happiness in her heart. The healers had given Hannah one last day of dignity and enjoyment -- spending it resting with friends and sampling favorite foods.

With a nod from The Bishop, the surgeon administered the serum to ease the old soldier to sleep. Quickly and quietly she was gone, all too soon, but dreams well deserved.

The surgeon and assistants paused to allow for silent respects, then moved to take Sarge away.

"May I bear my old friend to her final rest?" I heard myself ask. With none present offering disagreement, I gently lifted my most trustworthy companion and proudly carried her home.

The Restless Vigil

The Private was on watch, and I listened to Sarge's labored breathing. A strange sickness had made camp outside the old soldier's seemingly impregnable defenses, threatening a long siege.

"Sarge seems to be resting better now," I commented, eyes only half open, attempting to find myself a comfortable spot on the floor in the chill, dim common room.

"Hopefully The Lizard is resting too. She doesn't need to worry about one of her soldiers, or be turmoiled while performing her duties with the other leaders on the morrow." The Bishop was uncharacteristically calm and forgiving after being woken from our deep sleep.

I remembered The Lizard's worried sobs earlier in the night as she attempted in vain to minister to her old friend. Normally decisive, worry clouding her mind, she had asked us if we should take Sarge, in the dead of night, to The Triage. "They helped before, when wounds were great," she had reminded us.

The Bishop had looked thoughtful, assessed the situation, and noted to our compatriot: "Sarge is not in as dire circumstances as she was then, and all might be best served if we hold action till morning. Let Genghis and I watch over her till sun-up, so that you might rest for your day." And The Lizard had relunctantly agreed.

I gazed over at The Bishop as he drifted off to sleep, covered by a mismatch of blankets and cloth on the floor. He could be difficult, and bitter at times, but his actions this night were evidence of why I kept company with him.

I turned one last time and offered a salute to my fellow soldier, her breathing still rough, before laying down to ride out the vigil to daybreak.