June 19, 2006

Long, long ago, when the world was younger, there was an age of heroes. In that time lived noble knights and brave adventurers. They roamed the land and sailed the seas, fighting against the forces of evil and working tirelessly for all that was good. These men and women were the inspiration for many great legends and were the subjects of countless stories and songs. But the most famous of all were the three whose deeds have been told and retold even to this day. Bradley Pigg, Porkchop and Tom Hog were their names and they were of course pigs, and that is why they are known to us as The Three Curly-Tails.

It was the 7th day of April at the castle of King Olaf and the morning sun was shining through the high, narrow window in the eastern tower. Inside this tower three warriors rubbed their sleepy eyes, scratched their snouts and rolled out of bed. Tom Hog opened the window and the room filled with the fragrant air of a warm spring morning. Bradley Pigg and Porkchop breathed deeply and smiled; a lovely day for sure, which was a good thing for they had a lot to do. In two weeks it would be King Olaf’s birthday and the three friends wanted to find for him a gift that would let him know how highly he was thought of.

But what could they give to a man who already had a kingdom of his own?

They dressed and followed the winding stone stairway down from their tower room to the kitchen where Julia and Otto were already starting to make breakfast.

Now in the ancient times, when our three heroes lived, a king was known by the quality of his kitchen. Whether it was kings and queens of other lands who were visiting the castle, or mighty warriors seeking a place to rest as they rode upon a quest or perhaps a great feast for the people of the kingdom, a castle’s kitchen was its heart and the chef and his dragon were as important as the lords and ladies themselves.

Julia was the dragon of King Olaf’s kitchen. Her fiery breath had cooked and roasted and baked some of the most famous meals of those legendary times. Her partner, Otto, was the good king’s chef. He was a plump, jolly man who had traveled the world and learned the styles of cooking of all the lands he visited. It was said of him that he knew more about food than any chef that had ever lived; but he said that a chef was only as good as his dragon.

It was Otto and Julia who had prepared that famous feast celebrating the victory of Ariel The Wild over the five goblin queens and it was they who had baked the wondrous Cookies of Peace that had made the army of the mad prince Shunagi lose all interest in attacking the lands of King Olaf and march back home and forget the ways of war: a thing that made the mad prince even madder.

“Good morning.” said Tom Hog as he and Bradley Pigg and Porkchop came into the kitchen.

“Good morning, my friends.” said Otto. He was dropping blobs of pancake batter onto a large sheet of iron as big as a table. When the sheet was quite full Julia gave it a quick blast of her green Dragon Fire; not too much, not too little. When the fire stopped the air was filled with the delicious scent of perfectly cooked pancakes.

“Blueberry!” said Bradley Pigg excitedly.

“Sit.” Said Otto with a smile, and they did.

They quickly devoured two platters of the best pancakes in the world. The blueberries had been picked fresh that very morning while the dew was still upon them and the batter and the syrup were the chef’s special recipes. And of course Julia had toasted them to perfection.

As they ate Porkchop asked Otto what he was giving King Olaf for his birthday. The jolly chef cast a quick glance at Julia who nodded her head ‘OK’. He walked over to one of his many pantries and opened the door. There, on a large table, was a perfect replica of the castle. The four high towers at the corners were exactly like the real ones, with pennants flying at the top of each and in the middle of each massive wall was a beautifully carved gate. The great cobblestone courtyard with the well house and stables was there and every tall window and balcony was in place. Even the flowering vines that covered large patches of the walls and towers were there. Looking closely, Bradley Pigg saw that there was even a tiny bird’s nest under the eaves of the well house. In the nest were four eggs.

“It’s beautiful.” said Porkchop, “Where did you get it?”

“Julia and I made it”, said Otto, “It’s King Olaf’s birthday cake.” The dragon was smiling broadly and a thin wisp of smoke rose from her nostrils. “The cake recipe is one I learned many years ago from a baker in the desert lands of the far Kharaba, on the western side of the Semirian Mountains. It is made using figs and cactus blossom flour and it never goes stale. To bake it Julia thought a quick, blue flame would be best and of course that was just right.” The dragon’s smile grew broader still and she blew a perfect smoke ring at Otto. He stepped through it and continued, “The icing is colored with different berries and shaped to match the castle’s walls and gates and the vines with their flowers. Every tasty stone matches exactly a real one in the castle itself.”

The Three Curly-Tails were amazed at what Otto and Julia had created. They were even more amazed that they had gone to so much trouble for something that would be quickly eaten.

But it was for King Olaf, and the good king was well-loved by all the people of the land. He was not just a ruler; he was also a hero. In his youth he had been a mighty warrior; a giant of a man who led his brave soldiers against all that threatened the kingdom and its people. With his great battle axe that was called Shield Breaker he had conquered trolls and goblins, pirates and the hostile armies of a dozen other kings. So fierce had Olaf and his army been in battle that for many years now there had been peace throughout his kingdom. In his later years Olaf had become as famous for his gentle wisdom as he had been for his skill in battle. And it was these two things; strength and wisdom, which kept the kingdom safe.

So the birthday of such a man was a time for great celebration. Every town and village had a festival and the party at the castle was open to as many people as it could hold. And it was an honor to bake the cake for such an event, and the faster that cake was eaten, the greater the honor.

“But what can we get Olaf for his birthday?” Tom Hog asked. “What could we get him that he could really use?”

Julia stretched out her long, scaly neck and seemed to whisper something in Otto’s ear. A broad smile spread across the chef’s face. “Of course,” He said, patting the dragon’s nose, “the shirt.”

At once the Three Curly-Tails smiled as brightly as Otto.

“The shirt!” They repeated in unison.

Many years before King Olaf had been visited by his old friends the Knights of The Silver Sun. These brave knights were the best and truest warriors from many different lands. They rode under the banner of a mysterious queen whose lands lay far away to the south; across the dark Arkanian Sea. It was said that she sat upon a throne carved from a single fiery opal and that her palace was all built of white marble. She was also a sorceress, some said, and by her magic she brought heroes together. Some of the greatest names of legend had been among The Knights of The Silver Sun; the sisters Annabelle and Evangeline Fang, who were called The Flowers of The Battlefield, Kwasind the Strong, Arak-So of The Two Swords, The Perfect Archer Ootah and Xing Ah who wrestled with elephants. Olaf himself had ridden with them when war was fought against the Serpent Lord and his vile, poisonous army.

Now on that long-ago day, when his old comrades came to call, they had brought him a gift; a shirt woven with all the glorious colors of the Opal Throne itself. There were threads of finely drawn gold and silver mixed with delicate strands of silk dyed with the petals of mountain wildflowers. It seemed to be of no definite color but shimmered and changed from red to blue to green to purple and back again, and always with flashes of silver and gold gleaming among the rainbow.

It had been made by an ancient Gypsy woman of the Wolf clan, whose skill with cloth was far beyond that of anyone else in the world. It was the last and most beautiful garment that she ever made. There would never be another like it.

For years it was King Olaf’s favorite and he would wear it whenever he wanted to look his best. But it was old now and frayed and the exquisite cloth had grown too delicate to wear. So it stayed in the good ruler’s closet and the folks of the castle knew that Olaf missed wearing his wonderful shirt. A new one, if such a thing could be found, would please him greatly.

Now everyone in the land of Olaf knew that if you wanted the best and most beautiful clothes there was only one place to go; the shop of Pierre the tailor. And as soon as they finished one more platter of pancakes that is just where the Three Curly-Tails went.

When Pierre heard what his old friends had in mind a far-away look came into his eyes. After a moment he went to the door of his shop, locked it and hung up the sign that said ‘Closed’. He drew the curtains across the windows and motioned for the three of them to follow him. Tom Hog looked quizzically at Bradley Pigg and Porkchop; Pierre was acting very strangely. Never the less they followed him into the back of the shop and there the tailor reached far back into the bottom of the closet where he stored his sewing supplies. From underneath some boxes of needles and cartons of many-colored thread he withdrew a small silver chest. He paused for a moment seemingly lost in thought, then he slowly opened the chest and removed a piece of cloth about 1 foot square. But what cloth it was!

“That’s the most beautiful shade of green I’ve ever seen” said Porkchop.

“Green?” said Tom Hog, “It’s red, red as a ruby, red as the roses in Olaf’s garden.”

Bradley Pigg looked at his two friends with great confusion. “What’s wrong with you guys?” He asked, “It’s blue. The bluest blue I ever saw.”

Pierre smiled at them and gently gave the cloth a little shake.

“Wow.” Said the Three Curly-Tails.

They each could now see the colors the others had seen and many others too. All the colors of the rainbow flickered across the piece of material; Purple and red; blue and gold; green and indigo and violet, the colors seemed to dance across the cloth the way shadows dance around a drafty room lit by candles.

“What?” Asked Tom Hog.

“Where?” Inquired Bradley Pigg.

“How?” Porkchop wanted to know.

Pierre gently laid the cloth on his workbench as he answered their questions. “I bought this many years ago from a traveling merchant; he claimed it was the only piece like it in all the world. It is spider silk,” he said,” made from the web of a giant dog spider. They are found in the Rainbow Valley, about 100 miles to the east. If you can bring me one whole web, I will make a shirt for King Olaf such as the world has never seen.”

And so of course the Three Curly-Tails decided then and there that they would travel to Rainbow Valley, find a dog spider web and bring it back to Pierre.

If the trolls didn’t get them. The road east passed through the Great Troll Swamp and for a good ten miles travelers had to be on their guard, especially now, in the springtime, when the stinky creatures were shaking off their winter sleepiness and starting to look around for something they could ruin, or at least cover in smelly swamp mud.

But our three heroes had made up their minds and no pack of trolls was going to get between them and King Olaf’s birthday present. So, bidding goodbye to Pierre, they hurried back to their room in the tall East Tower. They changed into their traveling clothes, buckled on their swords and shouldered their packs. They walked excitedly down the winding stone stairway, happy to be off on another adventure together. As they crossed through the kitchen Otto called to them.

“Before you go,” he said, “Julia made up a little something for your trip. She could tell that you three were getting ready to travel.”

On the counter were three cotton bags. Their contents were fresh and the delicious scent that filled the air told the Curly-Tails that whatever else might happen to them on their journey, they would not go hungry.

“Dragon Roasted Jerky!” squealed Porkchop, and it was indeed. The best and the tastiest way to keep up one’s strength on a long adventure. It was highly nutritious and full of vitamins and minerals. And of course, no one could make it like Julia and Otto.

Then out the kitchen door they went and across the cobblestone courtyard to the eastern gate. As they passed by the well house Tom Hog remembered the wonderful birthday cake they had seen. Looking closely under the eaves he saw a tiny bird’s nest. In the nest were four eggs.

And so the Three Curly-Tails found themselves on that lovely, warm spring day walking down the eastern road, heading for the Rainbow Valley, where the great dog spiders lived. But up ahead of them, in their dark and muddy swamp, a band of trolls was noisily eating skunk cabbage and grunting about what fun it would be to find something nice somewhere, and ruin it.

The leader of this awful group was Brumbar, the biggest, filthiest and smelliest troll of them all. While the others muttered and chewed and drooled green juice upon themselves he suddenly stood up, stretched himself, and belched in a most disgusting manner. With one hand he picked up his great club and with the other grabbed another clump of skunk cabbage and stuffed it into his mouth. Then he started walking slowly toward the place where the eastern road runs through the swamp. The other trolls stared stupidly after him till at last Droool and then Mungwallow picked up their own clubs and their own clumps of skunk cabbage and followed after him. At last the rest of the trolls did the same and the whole tribe of Brumbar was sloshing through the black, slimy mud, heading for whatever trouble they could find.

The weather remained fine as Bradley Pigg, Porkchop and Tom Hog continued on their journey. Sometimes there would be roadside stands where farmers would have for sale the sort of things that traveling adventurers might need. At this time of year there were no fresh fruits or vegetables yet but one could always get some fresh eggs or perhaps some baked goods and some milk right from the cows. And it was nice to stop and rest awhile and talk with the people that they met. Then off they would go again, walking east. Often they would sing as they marched along; songs they had learned on their many adventures. Tom Hog knew the words to all the dragon songs of Tropang and these he would sing to his friends in his fine deep voice. Then Porkchop would sing some of the sailor’s songs he had learned as a boy when he traveled the southern seas on his grandfather’s ship Bird of The Ocean. Although he would join in on the chorus of the few songs that he knew, Bradley Pigg was not much of a singer. He did, however, know more jokes than anyone else they had ever met. He knew 27 different versions of ‘How many trolls does it take to light a candle?’ and almost a hundred versions of the old story about three dragons going into a tavern.

So with all the singing and laughing the miles seemed to fly by. By the fourth day they were close to their destination but had come now to where the road runs through The Great Troll Swamp. They drew their swords and walked quietly, listening for any noises from the swamp that might mean trouble. They scanned the treetops for ambushes and watched the roadside for movement or fresh tracks. But they saw nothing and heard only the frogs and a few marsh birds. But just as the road turned to higher ground and they were leaving the great mire behind them Bradley Pigg lifted his snout to the faint breeze and sniffed the air curiously. Something smelled dreadful, but whatever it was his nose told him it was far away; too far to worry about.

So the Three Curly-Tails passed through the Troll Swamp and again began to sing and joke among themselves. And that very evening they heard in the distance the faint roar of the Great Falls and they knew that tomorrow they would arrive at the Rainbow Valley.

They awoke before dawn, too excited to sleep now that they were almost to their destination. Porkchop cooked some eggs with dragon roasted jerky on the side and after a quick breakfast they began the final leg of their journey.

Now the Great Falls is where the waters of the Yulann River pour over the edge of the Cliff of Stars and fall for more than a mile into a large stone pool. From there the river passes through a deep gorge as it again flows toward the sea. The gigantic cliff over which the water poured flashed with points of light along its surface. It was diamonds that made these flashes of light, diamonds that had been locked into the stone of the cliff a thousand million years ago and many miles down in the earth. It was these that gave to that mighty wall of rock its name; The Cliff of Stars

When the waters spilled down from this great height the wind and the rocks turned them into mist and they became a huge, shining cloud rising far above the deep pool and the chasm that led away from it. The sun shining through this cloud of mist created in the sky an enormous rainbow, said to be the biggest in the world. And all the light that lit the valley on the other side of the river passed through this rainbow and so it was called the Rainbow Valley. Everything over there was color and the colors were always changing as the sun moved across the sky. The wildflowers that covered the meadows would be red one moment and gold the next, while the trees around them flickered from blue to violet and back again. And the colorful air was full of the lovely Jewel Bugs who flew busily among the flowers. The shells and wings of these creatures were indeed like jewels and they seemed to fill the air with rubies, amethyst, emeralds and sapphires. All day long their colors sparkled in the valley until the sun went down or they were caught up in the web of a dog spider. These webs were so marvelously made that they could draw the colors right out of the air, and so they were invisible to the unfortunate Jewel Bugs.

Many years ago people had come to the Rainbow Valley to hunt these beautiful insects, for their colors were often lovelier than those of real jewels. So many were caught that it was decided to close off the valley to protect those that were left. The bridge across the gorge was burned and a new one, with magical ways, was put up in its place. This new bridge would not only be in a different place each day but it was also invisible and only the elf Yammi-Ho, who was the bridge-keeper, could see it. No one could cross into the Rainbow Valley without his help and it was rumored that if he didn’t like someone he might point to a bridge where there was none and that person would step right off the edge and into the river many feet below. Yammi-Ho lived in a stone hut with the great rainbow directly overhead, and it was at the door of this hut that the Three Curly-Tails now stood.

Gently Tom Hog knocked and slowly the door was opened by an ancient elf with a long grey beard, “Yes?” he asked.

The three friends explained to the bridge-keeper why they had come and what they hoped to find in the valley. The elf listened thoughtfully and when they had finished he said,” King Olaf has protected our land for many years. If not for him the valley would long ago have been destroyed by the trolls or the bug hunters. And of course everyone in the kingdom knows of the Three Curly-Tails. You are said to be the bravest and truest of all the warriors of Olaf and that is good enough for me. This way, please.”

The old elf led them along the edge of the chasm to a spot that seemed like any other. Far below they could see the Yulann River resuming its journey to the sea.

“Right here.” Said Yammi-Ho, pointing out into space.

Cautiously Bradley Pigg took a step where the elf pointed. Although he could see nothing his foot rested on something solid and with another step he seemed to be standing on thin air. Slowly he crossed the invisible bridge and one at a time his companions followed him. Once they stood on the other side they turned and waved back to the bridge-keeper and were very glad to see that from this side the bridge was quite visible.

Their first views of the Rainbow Valley took their breaths away. The whole place was washed with color and it felt like they were walking through the sky at sunset. Looking back toward the Great Falls they saw that the water itself now seemed to be a river of pure colors. And all the while, in front of their wondering eyes, the brilliant Jewel Bugs flew all about.

The three adventurers walked slowly along. Everywhere they looked they saw a world of magical beauty; even the stones on the ground would take on the look of precious gems. They were approaching a forest of bamboo, and though at first the huge stalks looked crimson in the distance by the time they got to them they had changed to blue, then gold, then emerald green and as the Three Curly-Tails walked into the bamboo forest it was just starting to turn silver.

“Unbelievable.” Said Porkchop in awe, but the others could say nothing at all. Following a narrow path through the bamboo, which was now half silver and half violet, they walked single file with Tom Hog in the lead. All at once he stopped dead in his tracks and the tall stalks at the side of the path moved a little. “What is it?” asked Bradley Pigg. “Stuck.” Said Tom, as he tried to move backward to get unstuck. As he did so the bamboo moved again and in a sudden flicker of blue and green they were able to see what was wrong. A web; Tom Hog was caught in the web of a dog spider. No sooner did they realize this than they saw the spider herself come scampering down from the top of the forest. She perched upon the web and surveyed the scene with her nine dark eyes. Her curved pincers were open a little and her legs moved restlessly. Unlike other spiders she had noticeable ears, long ears that hung down on either side of her head. It was because of these long ears, that looked very much like those of a hound, that her kind were called ‘dog spiders’. She was a big one too, the size of a donkey.

The great spider extended her two front legs toward the trapped Curly-Tail. Bradley Pigg and Porkchop quickly stepped to either side of Tom Hog, drawing their swords as they did so. The spider watched them and slowly shook her head as her front legs gently pried Tom from the web. Once freed he took a step back, then smiled and said with a bow “Thank You.”

The dog spider clicked her pincers and nodded her head, “You’re welcome.” She said. “And what brings the Three Curly-Tails to our humble bamboo forest?”

“You know who we are?!” exclaimed Tom.

“Well,” said the spider, as her 3rd left leg smoothed out the web where he had been stuck, “Three pigs out on an adventure together with swords that are obviously very special, in the land of King Olaf; who else could you be?”

The three friends smiled and Bradley Pigg said to the dog spider. “We are very flattered and glad to meet you.” He held out his right hand and she extended her first right leg and they shook hands, in a manner of speaking, and the others did the same.

So the Three Curly-Tails told their hostess why they had come to the Rainbow Valley, and that it was just such a web as hers that they sought. The spider looked thoughtful for a moment, almost sad, then pointed with her 2nd left leg to the top of the tall bamboo stalk. There could be seen what looked like a huge drop of water that shimmered in the light. It was her egg sack, woven of the same silk as her web. “My babies will be hatching soon and I must have a web full of fat Jewel Bugs to feed them. It is the same with all the spiders in the bamboo forest. Our webs take a very long time to spin and hang. Before we could make another our babies would starve.”

Well, the Curly-Tails certainly didn’t want to starve any babies and it looked for a while like they might have come a long way for nothing. Then Porkchop’s face brightened and he asked the dog spider, “If we can find something for your children to eat that is even better than Jewel Bugs and tastier to boot, would you trade that for this web?”

The spider’s face wore a doubtful frown but Tom Hog and Bradley Pigg knew at once what their friend was talking about. “What could possibly be such a wonderful food?” She asked, and all together the three replied “Dragon roasted jerky!”

Porkchop took the bag from his pack, opened it and offered her a piece. She held it with her two front legs and carefully inspected it. She sniffed it and gave a little smile, then placed it in her mouth and began to slowly chew. Although it is hard to read a spider’s face there was no doubt that she was enjoying it, enjoying it greatly. “How much of this do you Have?” She asked.

The Curly-Tails placed their three bags of jerky on the ground beneath the web. The dog spider nodded her head in approval. “That will feed my little ones for a long time. Plenty of time to make a new web. Would one of you gentlemen cut a nice bamboo pole for me?”

In less than a heartbeat, using the dragonfly stroke, Tom Hog cut a stout length of bamboo and handed it to her. Holding the pole with her back legs she carefully undid the web with the other six, winding the marvelous silk onto the piece of bamboo. Before long the three adventurers had what they had come for and bidding farewell to their new friend, with Bradley Pigg shouldering the web, they began the journey home. The last they saw of the great dog spider she was popping another bit of jerky into her mouth.

The bridge had moved almost 100 yards since last they used it but they found it without trouble and crossed over again, leaving the Rainbow Valley behind. They waved to Yammi-Ho who was sitting in front of his stone hut, with the rainbow above it, then headed down the road, west this time, to bring their treasure to Pierre the tailor.

It is said that the road home is shorter than the road away from home and our three friends showed the truth of that as they headed back to the castle of King Olaf. They were all very eager to see what a wonderful creation Pierre would make from the dog spider web and, most of all, how Olaf would like it. Taking turns carrying the rolled up silk they trotted along, singing and laughing, while directly ahead of them the sun was setting with a fiery red glow. This had been a fine adventure; they had found what they had sought, seen the Rainbow Valley, made friends with a giant spider and now they would soon be home for the hard part was over. Or so they thought.

It was almost dark as they came near the Great Troll Swamp. They decided to make camp rather than pass through such a dangerous place at night, for trolls were known to cover the road with swamp slime and pounce upon travelers who slipped and fell in the darkness. Bradley Pigg began to make a fire while Tom Hog brought in firewood and Porkchop set up their tent. Suddenly Bradley Pigg raised his snout, sniffing the air and at the same instant all three of them heard a faint cry of “Help.”

They drew their swords and ran to the road. Up ahead in the evening shadows they could make out a farmer’s wagon
pulled by a pair of horses. The wagon lay on its side and the poor horses were all tangled up in their traces. Two people were standing next to it, trying to untangle the animals, and in a big circle around them, grunting and pointing and smelling up the area, were about two dozen trolls. This was of course the tribe of Brumbar and that great, stinky troll, along with his comrades Droool and Mungwallow were tossing handfuls of black mud at the two humans as they tried to free the horses. The pair was quite covered with it by now and each new handful flung at them would start the circle of trolls grunting even louder and making awful burping sounds, which is how trolls laugh. The taller of the two gave another cry of “Help.” as a huge clod of mud almost knocked him off his feet. So amusing did the trolls find this scene that they did not notice the Three Curly-Tails running down the road toward them. It wasn’t until Porkchop shouted out “Leave those people alone” that the trolls realized they had company. They all turned to see who dared disturb their fun and when they saw who it was a frown settled at once upon every face.

Well indeed did the trolls know the Curly-Tails. For many years it was our three heroes that Olaf would send whenever the swamp-dwellers decided to pull up farmer’s crops or cover an entire village with gross-smelling mud. Once an army of several hundred trolls kidnapped all the people in the town of New Dragon and marched them deep into the swamp and forced them to harvest the skunk cabbage. Then King Olaf had sent Bradley Pigg, Tom Hog and Porkchop along with seven of his best knights to rescue the people of New Dragon. They fastened to their boots mats of straw and so were able to walk on top of the soft mud instead of slogging through it and wearing themselves out. They surprised the trolls in the very middle of the Great Swamp, lying in their mud holes, grunting and burping while the unfortunate villagers brought them fresh piles of skunk cabbage leaves. The ten warriors burst out of the shadowy trees shouting their war cries, their swords whistling through the air before them. The surprised trolls grabbed clumsily for their clubs and struggled out of their wallows. The villagers saw their chance and headed off into the swamp, struggling toward home in the knee-deep mud. And so these ten brave fighters now faced the clubs of an army that outnumbered them 30 to 1. But it is not always numbers that win a battle, and the warriors of King Olaf were the best trained and most experienced in all the land.

So began the Battle of Troll Garden and at this battle it was shown that courage and skill are the most powerful weapons of all. It was also shown that even a heavy oaken troll club could be sliced in two by a fast, sharp sword, and that trolls tend to run away when faced by true fighters. In less than an hour most of the smelly creatures had dropped their weapons and loped off into the mire. A few still fought on but one by one they also turned and ran. At last only Brumbar remained, fighting with a long, stout stick against Tom Hog. But the stick kept getting shorter with every sweep of Tom’s blade until at last he held a piece only a few inches long. Then he too slogged off into the swamp and the famous battle was over. But before he ran, Brumbar learned better than anyone else why the sword of Tom Hog was called ‘Troll Biter’.

And now Brumbar faced this same warrior and that same terrible sword once again. Despite having his whole tribe around him the big troll was frightened. These were not just three helpless travelers, these were the Three Curly-Tails; perhaps the greatest troll-fighters in history. Suddenly Brumbar had a strong yearning to be back in his beloved mud hole, deep in the Great Swamp and far away from Tom Hog and Troll Biter.

But Droool and Mungwallow were too young to remember the Battle of Troll Garden and too stupid to remember it even if they had been there. They rushed forward, swinging their heavy clubs wildly, grunting and belching most disgustingly. Bradley Pigg and Porkchop swept their swords upward as they were attacked, cutting off the clubs just above the handles. As the trolls charged forward the two of them stepped nimbly aside while grabbing the clubs out of the air and delivering a solid knock to the head as Droool and Mungwallow stumbled past them. At that point the tribe of Brumbar had decided they would be much better off back home and, grabbing their unwise and now unconscious friends, they turned tail and ran.

So once again our three heroes had saved the day. As the trolls lumbered away still grunting and belching Tom Hog and Bradley Pigg turned the wagon back upon its wheels while Porkchop asked the two travelers if they were all right. He could see now that one was an old man with white hair and bright blue eyes and the other was a young boy no more than 10 years old. The boy had a stick in his hands, holding it like a sword, and looked like he had been ready to take on Brumbar all by himself. The lad lowered his stick as the old man said to their rescuers, “We are fine, thanks to you brave warriors. I am Lothar the farmer and this is my grandson Einar, and unless I am much mistaken you must be the Three Curly-Tails.”

Porkchop bowed to the old fellow and said with a smile, “At your service.”

The boy stared wide-eyed at him and his comrades, “Is it true?” he asked, “Are you really them?”

“We are.” Said Tom Hog who had succeeded in untangling the horses and was softly stroking their muzzles to calm them. They introduced themselves to the young man and his grandfather and explained that they were heading home to Olaf’s castle.

“That’s where we were going,” said Lothar the farmer, “We heard there was going to be a great celebration of the king’s birthday.”

“Indeed there will.” Replied Porkchop. “Why don’t we travel together? It will be faster for us and safer for you.”

“Oh grandfather,” exclaimed little Einar, “could we? Wait till the other boys hear that we were on an adventure with the Three Curly-Tails. Please, grandfather, oh please!”

“Of course.” said Lothar, patting him on the head. The look on the old man’s face showed clearly that such an adventure would be as much fun for him as for his grandson; maybe more.

So they spent the night at the camp of the Curly-Tails and the next morning they loaded everything, including the precious spider silk, into the wagon and off they went, heading for the castle. Grandfather drove the team with his grandson sitting beside him while Bradley Pigg, Tom Hog and Porkchop rode in the back, still singing and telling jokes. The weather was bright and warm and clear and the people they passed on the road waved to them and the whole world seemed to be in high spirits. The journey went quickly, much too quickly for young Einar who thought their three passengers were the most amazing folks he had ever met. Sometimes, between songs and jokes, they would tell the boy tales of their adventures and by the time the village of Altatherian came into view, with the great castle of Olaf rising up behind it, he had decided that when he grew up he too would be an adventurer and a troll-fighter, and he had decided that he would grow up just as fast as he could.

When they reached the village the Curly-Tails sent Lothar and Einar up to the castle with a note explaining that they were friends of theirs and should be given a nice place to stay. Then taking the bamboo pole with the web of the dog spider wrapped around it they went to the little shop of Pierre the tailor and showed him what they had brought.

When he saw the beautiful silk with its ever-changing colors Pierre was overjoyed. He knew of no other tailor in all the world who had ever been able to work with such lovely material. “Three days,” he said excitedly, “I must weave it, cut the pattern and then sew it. It will take me three days to do this. Then Good King Olaf shall have a new shirt the finest of them all. Now go, my friends. I must concentrate on my job.”

So Pierre ushered them out of the shop, locked the door, drew the curtains and began to work.

For three days the tailor’s shop was closed. All night the glow of a lantern would shine through the curtains of his workroom, and all day the door remained locked and the windows covered. Some of the villagers said they had seen bright colors flickering in the light of Pierre’s lantern.

In the afternoon of the third day the Curly-Tails sat upon a bench in front of the tailor’s shop. They had been sitting there all day, reading, talking, napping, but most of all waiting. As the sun began to set behind the castle walls Pierre opened the front door and their waiting was over. He looked very tired, which he was, but he was happy. He had done his best and his best was just right; there is no happier feeling than that.

The four of them walked through the darkened shop to the work room in back. And there it was. Even in the pale light of the lantern the wonderful shirt of Olaf filled the air around it with shimmering rainbow colors. It was magnificent. “Shall I wrap it?’ asked Pierre.

That evening the Three Curly-Tails returned to their room high in the eastern tower and carefully placed the gift-wrapped package on the table. They went to bed early for in the morning the great birthday party for King Olaf would begin.

When the rooster crowed at dawn Tom Hog, Porkchop and Bradley Pigg were already up and dressed in their best clothes. They knew that King Olaf would spend the day among the people who had come from all over the kingdom to help him celebrate. They had filled the guest rooms at the castle and the inns in the village. On the outskirts of town hundreds of folks were camping in tents and wagons. No one wanted to miss one of Olaf’s parties. So the three friends had decided among themselves that if the king was going to be seen by so many, he must look his best. And he could not look his best until he had his wonderful new shirt.

They found King Olaf in the kitchen, as they knew they would. He was just finishing a huge plate of waffles and sausages and it was obvious that he was as excited as a child about the big day to come. They noticed that Julia was curled up in front of the very pantry that held the surprise birthday cake. She was pretending to be asleep as she guarded the door. The Curly-Tails sat down across from Olaf and Porkchop set the box that Pierre had wrapped so beautifully in front of him. “Happy birthday!” they said in unison.

The King looked at his three friends with humble surprise. “For me?” he asked as he cut the ribbon and began removing the paper. “Guys, you really shouldn’t get me anything. After all you’ve done for me and for…..” But he could say no more because he had opened the box and seen his gift and it rendered him speechless. After several moments Olaf slowly removed the shirt and held it up to the morning light. Its colors ran and shimmered and it seemed to color the very air around it. He tried it on and it fit perfectly. He looked fondly at Porkchop and Tom Hog and Bradley Pigg. There was a tear in his eye. “My friends,” he said, “my friends.”

So that day King Olaf appeared for the first time among the people wearing his wonderful shirt that was made from the web of a great dog spider. All who saw him were amazed by its beauty and by how good it looked upon him. And the people were very glad for they were quite fond of their king and they wanted him to look better than any one else’s king. Then Otto placed the incredible birthday cake in a gold painted wagon drawn by Julia herself. She pulled it through the streets of Altatherian while King Olaf and the Three Curly-Tails handed out pieces to the crowd. All who had some of that marvelous cake agreed that it was the best they ever tasted. And as she pulled the golden wagon through the crowded streets the little children would call to Julia saying “Blue,’ or “Red” and she would lift her head toward the sky and blow great clouds of flame in just that color, and the children would squeal with delight.

Standing in the crowd, clutching tight his grandfather’s hand, young Einar was spellbound by the excitement around him and the knowledge that he had been a part of it. As the wagon passed by, Olaf himself gave him a piece of cake and the Three Curly-Tails waved to him and to grandfather. And even many years later, when Einar had become among the bravest and most famous of the king’s knights, he remembered that day as the best of all.

THE END

Lee Robinson welcomes your feedback!

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