Waking up was not his specialty after a night out. For some reason Tubberwood B. Clanc felt being inside silk sheets and he opened his eyes carefully. The light hurt.

‘Amialda?’ he called and someone appeared next to him and he noticed being in a four-poster castle for a bed.

The cold winter sun shone brightly straight into his pain controlling nerves and tried to detonate the blob that mimicked being his head. A hand holding a crystalline glass of juice appeared in front of him.

‘Here you are, my love.’

‘Thanks, dear,’ Tubberwood took the glass, drank the juice and stopped, turning slowly his head.

A middle-aged, rather charming woman stared at him. She was wearing a huge dress with a just a bit smaller cleavage and something between a tiara and a crown on her head. Tubberwood instantly checked his own garments under the sheet. He was wearing pajamas sown with golden threads.

‘Erm … Where am I?’

The woman laughed with bright, resonant voice:

‘Why, Your Highness, you are in your royal palace.’

Tubberwood B. Clanc shook his head and muttered:

‘Of course I am. Like every damn morning,’ he went sarcastic but it was lost and he tried with harder voice , ‘Can you please explain what I’m doing here?’

‘Why, you were brought here from the Unintentional Unicorn Inn. You are the new king and my next husband. The king is dead, long live Prathus II!’ the woman , who was apparently the queen, declared.

‘Prat … Prat …‘ Tubberwood tried to start an engine, ‘I’m Tubberwood B. Clanc, nice to make your acquaintances, but I’d like to go home. And some more cold juice, if you please.’

‘This is your home, and you have a full day ahead of you. The ogres of Omeria are coming at our gates,’ the queen said as she poured more juice and handed it to Tubberwood.

‘What have I to do with ogres of Omeria? I want to go home,’ Tubberwood replied and emptied the glass.

He handed it back and at the same moment the twin doors opened and three armored generals marched in, surrounding the bed:

‘Your Highness, your troops are waiting!’

‘Oh, what is this fresh heck?’ Tubberwood sighed, ’you, the queen or whatever you are, get these people out of here.’

The queen shrugged:

‘Cavalry general Gallåp,’ she said and a loud clop! followed as Gallåp hit his heels together, ‘infantry general Vollmarch,’ clop! ‘and your guard’s general Blutnguts,’ clop!

‘Enough “clop!”,’ Tubberwood held his head and the generals obeyed with another clop!

Blutnguts snapped his fingers and a guard of servants appeared, dragged Tubberwood out of bed and out of pajamas and before Tubberwood got embarrassed, started to dress him, apparently into king’s garments, and topped it with light shining armor. A helmet decorated with golden crown was pushed into his armpit. His gaze sought for the Sword of Nuthing and it hovered to him, glimmering, settled into his hold and forced his arm to raise.

‘Hurrah for the king!’ the generals exclaimed.

‘Wait, where is my Pendant of Badsync?’ Tubberwood managed to utter.

‘Here, I thank you for it, milord,’ said the queen and laid it hanging from her neck.

Tubberwood shrugged, the pendant seemed not to have any use anyway. Except that it, with the sword, had made him a king.

Escorted to the doors of the palace he collided with a steel wall of hurrah from the guard standing in formation in the yard. He was promptly given a horse and the lot started to march out of the palace yard, out of the town. His guards were around him and general Blutnguts next to him.

‘Everything is ready,’ said Blutnguts as they crossed the top of a hill and Tubberwood saw a million troops across the valley. Beyond them started the heights of Tattara Tivel and there were the dark armies of ogres.

Tubberwood B. Clanc was now in a totally mesmerized state. The Sword of Nuthin may or may not have had something to do with it. Inside king Prathus II the little pig farmer was screaming to get out.

Finally he stood in front of the troops with the generals. Masses of warriors stood staring at him.

‘Milord, tell us where shall your sword take us,’ cavalry general Gallåp demanded.

‘I don’t know and I don’t wanna know!’ Tubberwood yelled inside but no-one heard and king Prathus II raised his Sword of Nuthin, pointed at Gallåp and then the left flank.

‘You want me to take the left flank? Your order is my duty,’ said general Gallåp and rode off to his cavalry.

The sword waved again, this time at general Vollmarch and then right flank.

‘I shall take my men against the right. Aye milord,’ the general said and withdrew aside to negotiate with his subordinates.

The sword pointed at general Blutnguts and then straight forward.

‘The King’s Guard shall take the center. Aye milord!,’ bowed the general, ‘Guard! Get ready!’

King Prathus II sat on his horse in his shining armor and laid his helmet on. Then the Sword of Nuthin was raised once again. It glimmered in the pale winter sun and then burst into flames. Inside the king Tubberwood B. Clanc hoped the king would not burn his fingers.

General Blutnguts rode back and forth along the battle formation and yelled:

‘Into the fire, the dark dawn and blood! Glory! Honor! Strength! Cabbage!’

The troops yelled back and the march started. Tubberwood B. Clanc kept screaming in silence as his horse took the lead. Slowly they accelerated until they reached the heights of Tattara Tivel and the hordes of ogres were in front of them. The charge commenced, the ogres were banging their bludgeons and sledgehammers against the ground and grunting. Facing them king Prathus II raised his Sword of Nuthin to readiness and inside him Tubberwood B. Clanc passed out before the clamor started and the snowy landscape was smeared with red and green spilling around.

It was silent now. It was cold. He opened his eyes slowly. There were people around him. He was in a makeshift bed and could not move. Tubberwood B. Clanc said something and to his own surprise his voice was heard again.

‘I wanna go home,’ came weakly from his mouth.

The company around him had sad expressions. The generals were there, as well as the queen. They were still out in the open. The queen was crying. General Gallåp cleared his throat:

‘Your Highness was right. Their flank out there was mere a thin crust and my horses swept it into heck and got through. We turned deep into their flank and everything was clear!’

‘Good for you. I wanna go home,’ Tubberwood said and the queen wailed.

‘You are going home, to your ancestors. All the glory to you, milord,’ general Blutnguts said quietly.

‘But I don’t want my ancestors, they stink!’

But nobody heard him this time, they had turned to watch the mighty spyderhawk arriving to take the king away. Despite his objections Tubberwood was lifted onto the spyderhawk and before he knew, they had left the ground and the troops down were reduced to a mere dots in the middle of the snowy and bloody and green splattered landscape. An angelic chorus was heard shortly. Then Tubberwood heard only the slow flapping of the mighty wings as the hills rolled beneath them. He passed out.

Tubberwood B. Clanc opened his eyes in his rocking chair. His pipe had fallen onto his lap but had luckily burned out. He rubbed his eyes and raised slowly his gaze. His home cottage was exactly the same as before. A mixed smell of old cabbage soup and smoke dominated the air. Amialda was digging into his backback. The five kids were running around and playing dragons. Tubberwood stood slowly up, flexed and then scratched his rear. Amialda straightened herself and was partly stunned, partly mad:

‘So, Mr. Clanc sees it fit to wake up at last! Explain these!’ Amialda hit the table with a heap of gold dalers, ‘you did not get these from the market, I’m sure of that! Did you gamble at Blimeydilly’s?’

‘I must have. Give me time, I had the most extraordinary dream …’

‘I’m certain you had! You just wobble in, light your pipe and pass out in the damn rocking chair!’

Amialda paused, loading a new round:

‘You should have married that Telluranda from the neighbourhood, there would have been a firecracker suitable to that lifestyle of yours!’

Nag. Nag. Nag. Tubberwood moved to the window. The last rays of sunshine hit the garden and the jaw of Tubberwood B. Clanc dropped onto the floor as Amialda gave the last comment:

‘And I expect you to get rid of that heckuva huge spyderhawk of yours in our garden!’

The End