Castle Spellbound

GAMING HALL

Jeremy Hochsteader was dressed in a parti-colored cotehardie (a longish tunic belted at the waist) in black and orange with matching tights: one leg per color. His orange Reebok cross-training shoes somehow looked appropriate.

He was sitting at a table playing a home video game and enjoying it. He had been invited to the party at Club Sheila of course, but he didn't like parties, so he'd put off going until it was too late.

No less than three homunculi had swept out the room already, but Jeremy hadn't paid them any mind, his attention fixed on wheels of fire and vicious turtles. But now he heard music; and though he didn't stop playing, he was beginning to grow aware that something might be going on. Maybe Sheila's party had spilled over into the castle.

Maybe it had. So what.

He kept playing, thumbing the buttons on the control device, jumping over pitfalls and leapfrogging monsters. The music grew louder but he still didn't care. He wished whoever was making it would go away.

The commotion entered the gaming hall but he still didn't turn around. There came quite a racket and Jeremy was beginning to get annoyed.

He stopped the game's action and looked toward the entrance.

"What the heck is this?"

Belly dancers? There were three of them, and with them a bunch of little guys playing weird instruments. The beauty of the women stunned him a bit before he began wondering if the castle was going nuts again. It did that periodically.

They danced around the hall and then circled him, clanging things in his face. He kind of liked looking at the women, but he thought the music sucked.

Presently the whole kit and caboodle bumped and ground their way out of the hall. The high-pitched flutes were the last to fade. But in their wake came the sounds of some other disturbance.

"Screwy," Jeremy said.

But that was life in the castle. You never knew what was going to come jumping out of the woodwork… or the masonry, or whatever.

Melanie McDaniel came walking in carrying her lute. She was dressed in a troubadour's outfit: black velvet cap with a feather, black velvet doublet, silver-gray cloak, scarlet tights, and black shoes. It was her usual mode of dress for going about the castle; she had stopped into her room to change after the party.

"Have you been seeing the weird stuff?" she asked.

"Just saw it," Jeremy said.

"There's more, all over."

"Yeah? What's going on?"

"Nobody seems to know."

"Any trouble?"

"Well, no, not trouble, really. It's just very bizarre."

"So what else is new?" Jeremy turned back to his video game.

Melanie asked, "Have you seen the little guys sweeping up?"

"Huh? What little guys?"

"Little buggers this tall"-she held her hand two or three feet above the floor-"in blue bib overalls. With brooms. They sweep up all over the place."

Jeremy's memory was jogged. "Oh. Yeah, I saw them. What are they all about?"

"Nobody knows that either."

"Weird."

"Uh-oh."

Jeremy turned his head. "What?"

More belly dancers entered. This time there were a good half dozen or more.

Disgusted, Jeremy threw down the control box and turned off the monitor. He swiveled around on the high stool, crossed his legs, and watched.

Melanie sat on the edge of the table and watched with him.

At length she commented, "These women really can dance."

"Say what?"

"I said… Never mind."

This troupe didn't want to leave-or did it only seem that way because more dancers were coming in to take the place of the ones who left? It was hard to tell.

Finally Jeremy got up and said, "Let's get the heck out of here."

Melanie picked up her lute. "I'm with you."

They weaved their way to the archway and ducked out. The corridor was less crowded, but only by comparison. Gnomish sweepers swept by, and Jeremy wondered why he hadn't really noticed them before. They sure were weird looking. Vaguely familiar, too. Porky Pig? No, maybe…

"Oh, look."

Jeremy looked left. A chorus line of colorfully costumed and gorgeous women was high-kicking its way down the corridor. All the dancers were long-legged and beautiful and all kicked head-high in precision lock step to the beat of the marching jazz band that followed them. The band was tearing off a show-stopping arrangement of "I Got Rhythm."

Jeremy was a tiny bit irked by all this. "Hey. This is gettin' weird. I mean, really weird."

"You mean weirder than usual."

"Yeah."

They stood well aside to let the chorus line pass, then began walking the other way as the band marched by in threes. Music echoed down the hallway.

"Does all this have something to do with the party?" Jeremy asked.

"Sheila's party is over, as far as I know."

"Got any idea what's going on?"

"Not a clue."

"Well, I'm going up to the lab. Maybe the instruments show something."

"I'll go with you."

They turned left at the next intersecting corridor, but soon saw that the way ahead was blocked. Another chorus line and jazz band were kicking their way forward, but wriggling beside them was a file of belly dancers.

"Oops," Melanie said. "In here."

They ducked into a formal sitting room, cut across it, and came out into another hallway.

But here there was something different. Minstrels.

"Oh, my," Melanie said.

"Can you play that thing, fair maid?"

The man who spoke was tall and smiling and dark-haired, all decked out in green, a white feather sprouting from his cap. He was very handsome, — and Melanie fell instantly in love.

"Uh, yes," she said. "Sure. A little, anyway."

The man began to play, his three companions backing him up.

He sang:

"And we will sit upon the rocks,

Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow rivers to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals. "

"True Thomas lay on Huntly Bank A wonder he spied, spied he; For there he saw a lady bright Come riding down by the Eildon Tree… "

"Hey, Melanie, forget this goof. Come on."

"Wait a minute, Jeremy. Look, it would be nice and all-I mean, you guys are really good…."

Melanie tried to play along. The chord structure they followed was a little complex for her, but she began to enjoy the effort.

"Hey, Melanie?" Jeremy called, trying to get her attention.

Was that a minor chord there, or a diminished? "Melanie?"

"Huh?"

"Come on, let's go."

"Oh. Can you wait just a sec?"

The troubadours stopped and the lead singer said, "That was', splendid, girl! How would you like to join us? We'll travel together, eat together, sing together. It will be marvelous! "

Melanie was nonplused. "Oh, well, that's nice of you, but-"

The singer strummed a chord on his lute.

"Come live with me and be my love

And we shall all the pleasures prove-"

"Melanie, they aren't real."

Melanie turned her head to Jeremy. "What?"

"They aren't real," Jeremy told her. "Can't you see that?"

The singer stopped. "Who's to say who's real, young man? You can join us, too. Some of us like boys now and then."

The minstrels all laughed.

"Come on, Melanie." Jeremy tugged at her arm.

"Hold on a second, Jeremy." She turned back to the handsome singer. "Uh, what's your name?"

The singer shrugged. "What's in a name? Call me what you like."

"You don't have a name?"

"I've never had the need-

Everyone's attention was diverted by the approach of another band of medieval musicians. Melanie turned to look, and her eyes bulged. She looked back at the first bunch, then swung to the new arrivals.

They were identical.

"Fair maid, can you play that thing?"

Melanie slapped her forehead. "Jeremy, you're right. I should have known."

"Then let's get out of here."

Melanie and Jeremy circled past the originals and headed down the hall.

"Fare thee well, beautiful maid!"

"Uh… 'Bye!" Melanie called over her shoulder. Rats. If only he wasn't so damned good-looking!

"And I will make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies… "