Ol' Flint the Crow

Princess Tabitha Strikes

...Miss Bleak's eyes flashed in horror as her friend, Flint, plummeted in the dense vegetation below. As she ran with tremendous velocity towards her fallen comrade, the barmaid yelled at Samuel and Hobbs to pull the ship into the river.

"Oi!" the bartender shouted. "If that boat isn't in the water before I get back, I'll break both of your teeth in!"

Looking up at the mountain covered with nobles, Samuel could make out a woman with ebony hair that shone brightly from the setting sun. Her face was beautifully sculpted yet it was blemished with an ugly, old gash that ran horizontally across her forehead. Even her lovely hair that draped over it could not hide this hideous imperfection.

She rode a white salon that gracefully descended the steep hill. On her head, a crown of silver and diamonds wrapped around her skull. Golden spikes, on the sides of the tiara, pointed skyward. The minstrel froze at the sight of the woman's majesty that seemed to ooze off of her. Even though he had never seen her face before, Samuel knew exactly who she was... It was Princess Tabitha.

Hobbs seized the flute player's stiff shoulder and pleaded with him to help plunge the ship into the river depths. Shaking his head to snap himself back to reality, Samuel aided the boatman in his mission. All the while, the minstrel would glance behind him worrying for Bleak's safety. The barmaid was out of eye sight after passing the thick forest bushes; this caused Samuel more anxiety.

The boat dragged over the grass at a snail's pace. Huffing and puffing along, Hobbs and Samuel pushed the stern of the ship with all their might. The minstrel's small muscles wobbled as he regretted having spent all his time studying at a college he eventually flunked out of instead of strengthening his body with manual labor. This would have been usefully right about now.

For the sailor, he could barely move the boat without gasping for air. All this strain made his craving for liquor increase exponentially. The only thing he could think about was Bleak's supply bag which she left on the deck of the ship. Thinking that a glass of wine might help his nerves, the boatman eased up on the boat making Samuel do all the work.

"Hey!" Samuel yelped as he noticed Hobbs slowly trying to climb up the ship. " Where are you going? I can't do this myself! Help me!"

The boatman shifted his eyes as if taken out of a dream. Slumping his head in dismay, he leaped back down and shoved the boat, this time, using all his energy. After a few strenuous minutes, they manage to tug the ship close enough to the edge so it only needed one final push for its nose to dive straight into the water.

Hobbs gestured to Samuel to pause for a moment. They scanned the thick forest and waited eagerly for the barmaid's return. The minstrel's heart thumped in his chest causing him to breath heavily. He felt lightheaded and his torso hurt tremendous. Clenching his left breast, Samuel wondered what was going on inside of him. How big had the heartache worm grown?

Not a sound could be heard coming from the massive trees blocking their view. The flute player's hope sank as the seconds rolled by and still no sign of Bleak not Flint appeared. Suddenly a burst of leaves shot up as Bleak, cradling the wounded crow in her strong arms, rushed out of the forest and hopped over the throng of sleeping boaters. She was screaming at the top of her lungs telling the two to shove the boat in the water.

Assisting Hobbs, Samuel dug his feet into the dirt and cast the vessel into the Nero Rapids. The splashing water drenched his clothes as he scurried on the boat, before it could drift away. As the craft began to pick up speed, the minstrel worried that the bartender would not make it.

Bleak was about fifty feet from the sailing ship. Sprinting even faster than before, the barmaid could hear the foreboding sound of hooves coming from behind. She sprung from the shore and just barely managed grasp onto the slippery railing with her free hand.