A Pierce of Cake and Some Booty – 1


Not all too long ago the earth was still flat. And there was nothing you could do about it! There was a village with a rather small blacksmith named Elidor O ́Caigh in it. Elidor, as small as he might have been, was the strongest man known at that time with gigantic muscles on his little bones — even where most people thought there should not be any muscles.

Everybody in the village was nice to Elidor. When they saw him, standing in his workshop and handling a hammer that looked more like the anaestethic of a tribal elephant doctor than a normal sized hammer, there was nothing else for them to do than to be nice to him.

Elidor knew about his strength, and the knowledge made him glad. People treated him with respect. He thundered the hammer on a piece of iron like there was no tomorrow to thunder hammers on pieces of iron anymore. After a few strokes he stopped.

”Yep!?” he asked.
”His Majesty wants you to come up to the castle, Elidor!” the Herald said.
”Der Majersty? Tell ‘em, I ́ll be up in a minute!”


Pierce was the tallest boy in the village but as thin as a broom handle. Lifting and hitting heavy stuff with hammers had never been his thing. He was smart instead.

”Must be all them books!” people said. And, indeed, it was the books. Pierce did not have friends. If you asked him, he would say: ”Oh, that ́s no problem! No problem, no, not at all!” and he would try to smile at you before continuing to read.

”Are you sure, it’s no problem?” the Herald asked him, smiling back.
”No, no, really, not at all!” Pierce responded without looking up.

The Herald watched the tall boy sitting on a much too small chair. Pierce’s legs were folded up under the table. His mother had her back turned to him and helped herself to some soup. Was he just playing stupid now?

”Well, then…should we go, say? Come on!” he said.
”Oh, you meant like now…er, okay, sorry, ouch…” Pierce shot up from his chair, banging his knees against the table just hard enough to make the open book fall down to the floor. ”…sorry, I’m coming…”

The Herald laughed. He reached up and patted Pierce on the shoulder.

”Easy!” he said. “I don ́t think his Majesty wants to kill you or something!”
”He doesn ́t, does he…yes, well, I guess he doesn ́t…er, bye, Mom!”

…continued here.

© 2012 Alexander Biebricher All Rights Reserved.

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