DUEL WITH ZOLTAN

THE DUEL WITH ZOLTAN

       He woke to the sound of his name. He opened his eyes slowly, not sure where or when he was. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was home.

       He glanced over at the large clock he kept by the wall. Of course, the thing had stopped; probably years before. This sleeping through the century stuff had its disadvantages. 

       He stretched, and yawned. He glanced out the window. It looked to be about midafternoon, so the clock reading of two was probably not far off. At least he had no reason to disagree with the clock, and thought that it looked two-ish, so he would call it two o’clock. 

       “ELDAVAN!” a voice roared from outside. 

       “WHAT?” he roared back with more effort than he really wanted to expend at two o’clock in the afternoon.

       “I AM ZOLTAN THE GREAT! I AM ZOLTAN THE TERRIBLE! I AM ZOLTAN THE MAGNIFICENT!”

       “Really? Must be hard getting all that on a mail box.”

       “I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL ARCANE! PREPARE YE, FOR THY DEATH IS NIGH!”

       “Do we have to? “he answered. “I’ve been asleep for years, and I have to relieve myself. Besides, I look a fright. I just have to freshen up.”  This stopped Zoltan. “Well, hurry up! The day wanes!”

       The old wizard pulled his carcass out from under his blankets, his warm and comfy blankets, he thought, and dragged himself to the washroom. His robes were rumpled, and his beard was all askew on the left side of his face. On the whole, though, he wasn’t terrible disappointed with his appearance. Could be worse, he thought, could be worse.

       Eventually he made his way down the tower steps, pushed hard against the door several times until he remembered it opened inward, then pulled it open and stumbled down the stairs. He staggered out into the daylight, and looked about. Three people were there; a well-dressed man he assumed was this Zoltan the Wonderful, or whatever he called himself, one was a dwarf, and one was a man in a grey suit and a bowler hat. He seemed rather out of place, for some reason.

       “Yeah, all right, I’m here, what’s the problem?”

       The gaudily dressed man puffed out his chest. “I am Zoltan the Magnificent!”

       “Really? Your mother must be very proud. And the dwarf?”

       “Konwen, my servant.”

       “He’s not magnificent, too?”

       “No, he is my servant.”

       “Ah.” He turned to the man in the suit. “And you?”

       “I am Junis, I am a judge from the Wizard Department.”

       He blinked, thought about this, had no idea what it meant, and really didn’t care.

       “I am Eldavan the Pretty Good, Fairly Happy and Flatulent When I Eat Cabbage.  I presume I am being challenged by that reject from a clown carnival over there.”

       He threw his head back. “I am Zolt,...”

       “Yeah, yeah, yeah, you said that. Well, you don’t have an appointment for today, do you?”

       “An appointment?” he asked, incredulously.

       “Yes, an appointment,” Eldavan stated. He pulled out a book from beneath his robes, and flipped through a few pages. “I can squeeze you in next Thursday afternoon, three-ish. Don’t be late.”

       “I HAVE CHALLENGED YOU TO A DUEL! STAND AND FIGHT, WORTHLESS COWARD!” he roared in outrage.

       The old wizard waved, and the book vanished. “Do you have to keep yelling like that? You’re giving me a headache.”

       The other man stepped forward. “Eldavan, do you accept the challenge?”

       “Oh, hell, why not, I’ve nothing better to do. Let’s get on with it,” he grumbled.

       The man smiled, and stepped back. He raised his arm in the air.

       “Ready?” he asked.

       “Yes,” Zoltan exclaimed in a grand voice.

       Eldavan didn’t move, but a massive blast of energy came from him, engulfing Zoltan. The blast of energy blazed in the afternoon light, illuminating everything around for miles. A moment later it was gone. They looked up, then at the place where Zoltan was.

       Both the judge and Eldavan walked over. There was nothing left but some charred remains. Zoltan was gone.

       “You were supposed to wait until I said ‘GO!’” Junis complained.

       The old wizard shrugged. “You asked if we were ready, and he said yes.”

       The dwarf screamed. “He meant he was getting ready! This was not a fair duel!” he growled.

       “He’s right,” Junis said. “You cheated!”

       Eldavan laughed. “You mean there are rules? When did that start?”

       “They’ve been in effect for over fifty years!” the man exclaimed, aghast at the man’s ignorance.

       “Ah, there you go, I’ve been asleep for the better part of the century. “

       ” But this man cheated!” Konwen exclaimed. 

       “He’s right, you did not fight fair!” Junis complained.

       “Oh, very well, I’ll apologize.” He looked down at the pile of ash.

       “Dear Zoltan the Magnificent, I am very sorry for not waiting for the start signal. Can you ever forgive me?”

       He looked up at the other two. “How long should we wait for an answer?”

       “I think he should be punished!” Konwen exclaimed again.

       Junis agreed. “Yes, yes, he should be punished. What would you consider a suitable punishment?”

       “No pudding for dessert tonight?” Eldavan suggested.

       “No, no, we must think of something harsher!” the dwarf complained.

       “Harsher? Do you have any idea how much I like pudding?” He looked at Junis. “Does the Department of Wizarding have a prescribed punishment for this?”

       “Well, a proposal of a fine of ten thousand gold pieces was proposed, but we never did vote on it.”

       “Ten thousand gold pieces? Are you out of your nut? Where am I going to get that kind of money?” Eldavan stated in annoyance.

       “You could sell your tower!” Konwen suggested.

       “I wouldn’t get anything for it, it’s haunted. Besides, I’d have to tidy up, and that takes so much time.”

       “Haunted?” Junis asked, startled. “What do you mean, it’s haunted?”

       “There’s a monster living in there. It’s in the cellar.”

       “Aren’t you afraid of it?” Konwen asked worriedly.

       “Nope, it likes pudding, too. Would you like to meet it?” Eldavan asked politely.

       “No, no, don’t trouble yourself,” Junis said quickly, but Eldavan had already turned to the tower.

       “Hey, Sav, come on out here, would you please? There’s some folks who want to meet you!”

       There was a loud thudding sound and slowly the door to the tower opened. A large foot emerged, followed by a monstrous leg, then torso, then finally the entire creature was revealed. It turned to them.

       “Did you call, Eldavan?” it asked politely in a growly voice.

       “Yes, these two folks would like to meet you,” he said, and turned to where the dwarf and Junis were standing. However, both seemed to recall a pressing engagement elsewhere, and were hurrying away at top speed, Konwen upon his carriage, and Junis upon his horse. He watched them go with some amusement.

        “Well, it seems they changed their minds. Oh, well.”

       “You called me out here for nothing?”

       “Well, I’m afraid so. However, I did make pudding for dessert tonight.”

       “Made?”

       “Oh, all right, I created it. If you’re going to argue, you’re not going to get any of it! Now, I have to make dinner. We’re having stew.”

       “That sounds good. I’ll take a look around the forest while you prepare the meal.”

       He looked down at the pile of ash, and stirred it with his foot. “Anyone we know?”

       Eldavan shrugged. “Another in a long line of wizards seeking to make me their latest victim.”

       “He failed; I take it?”

       “Indeed.”

       “Good, I’d hate to think of life without pudding. I’ll be back soon,” he said, waddling off in a monstrous way into the forest.

       Eldavan laughed and returned to his tower.

THE END