Arthur opened his eyes sometime after dawn. His entire body hurt, but his chain mail and his skill with the sword had prevented any of the goblins with rapiers from scoring any hits beyond the wound in his right shoulder. Already the pain was fading. Arthur glanced up just as a gigantic creature like a lion landed with a heavy thud and a shriek like an eagle.
A gryphon!
Arthur was so petrified that he dared not breathe, not even when the beast carried his faithful servant screaming into the air. Only after the gryphon reached the treetops did Arthur finally spring to his feet, sword in hand, screaming dire and impossible threats after the animal. Then King Arthur of Camelot was truly alone in a strange land, with nothing but his sword, his armor, and a strange white gem bigger than any he had ever seen.
Arthur trudged to the edge of the forest. On vines twining around the trees hung large yellow fruits. Arthur sliced one open with his knife. The flesh inside was orange and juicy, much like a melon. Arthur munched as he strode toward a winding road that led out of the forest.
He walked out into a wide plain and bright sun. Arthur paused when he saw figures coming toward him, but as they approached they seemed less and less threatening. (He could even hear them singing snatches.) Moreover, he could easily tell that these figures were not human. Their short, stocky stature proclaimed them as dwarves. Arthur relaxed; perhaps this magical land wasn't so treacherous after all.
He hailed the dwarves as they approached.
"Good dwarves," he said, "could you tell me where I might find the nearest town?"
The dwarves all stared at him as if they had never seen a knight before. Their leader even approached Arthur and asked, "We are but humble dwarves, and I am called Wardell. What are you, O Tall one, and what are you called?"
Arthur nodded and accepted the respectful introduction. "I am a knight," he announced, "and Arthur is my name. I have an urgent need for refreshment, perhaps a place to stay—"
Wardell nodded sagely, stroking his deep, dark beard in thought. "I am afraid the nearest town is many miles away, good knight," he stated. "But my clan and I were just on our way to visit a large camp which you will no doubt find plenty of refreshment and every comfort. Be so kind as to consort with us, o great one, and we will see that you arrive in safety and good spirits."
Arthur smiled; these dwarves were certainly more polite than any other dwarves he'd ever met. As long as they kept piling on the compliments, he didn't think he would have any problems.
Arthur was quite comfortable in the company of the dwarves by the time they neared the camp. He told them about Camelot and Albion (but not of his royalty; that was unnecessary, seeing as they revered him enough for his knighthood as it was), of his incredible hunting skills and countless adventures. In return they told him of their world, Phantasm, and how he had the distinct privilege of being the only knight in existence. Arthur had only paused in talking about himself long enough to recall the gryphon carrying Merlin away, when they arrived at the edge of the camp. A new sort of creature strode out to meet them.
Arthur stopped dead in his tracks and rather rudely shouted out, "Good Lord, what is that?"
It was about the same shape as a dwarf, but far more bulky, and a hulking seven feet tall. It looked (and smelled) like a cross between a dwarf and a boar. The creature stood uptight like a dwarf, but the limbs and gut were a good deal rounder and thicker. The nose had a squashed hook-shape to it. The eyes were buried between bulging jowls and a sagging brow. The ears were triangular in shape, and hung with glinting gold rings. The creature wore several layers of tattered swatches of rich fabric. He squatted low, bowed his turbaned head, and raised his hand, a somewhat theatrical demonstration of respect.
"Welcome, one and all," he said in a deep bass voice, his dark eyes twinkling in the light of many lanterns. "Wardell, my compatriot, how good you have reached our camp by nightfall. We did not think that you were coming—" he glanced down at Arthur, "or that you were bringing us a magnificent guest."
Wardell clapped Arthur in the middle of his back, which was as high as the dwarf could reach. "This here is Arthur," he stated, "a knight of Camelot. He has just arrived, and desires to see the glory of Phantasm before he departs." He turned to Arthur, "Sir Arthur," he announced, "May I have the honor of introducing my friend, Garrgan, the most noble troll who ever lived!"
Garrgan bowed to Arthur, who was surprised and relieved that apparently, the trolls at least in Phantasm were far nicer than the trolls in Camelot.
Garrgan led the dwarves and Arthur to the center of camp, where trolls feasted, drank, and danced. It pleased the young king even more that these trolls ate heartily of cooked stew brimming with roots and meat in a rich broth. The drink made him lightheaded at first, but he grew accustomed to the flavor and even came to enjoy it. When the dwarves and trolls brought out instruments, Arthur jumped to his feet along with the others and danced as heartily as any among them. He laughed, cheered, drank, and ate until he was so tired the trolls practically had to carry him into a tent already prepared with a soft couch.
Arthur's head rang as if the band still played, but there were at least two voices conversing that the noise could not eclipse. He was only slightly aware they were talking about him, but he listened without reacting or comprehending.
"What did you say the creature was, Ward?"
"He called hisself a knight or summat."
"A knight, you thickhead? That there's a 'uman if I ever saw one!"
"Garrg, have you ever seen a human?"
"Naw, but I sure know that if anything is a human, that 'un is!"
Silence hung for several moments.
"So what?"
"So what?" Garrgan choked. "So, d'you know the market for a glimpse of a human? Wardell, my friend—I'd be willing to give each of your clan as much as they could carry, if only you let the human stay."
"Y'don't say?" Wardell mused.
"I would, too; we could make it all back. But you know how much trouble I'd have explaining how we left that much behind in one place. So I'm afraid you'll have to settle for about half that."
Silence again.
"How fortunate to have a friend in these dark days, Garrgan."
"Indeed, we are most fortunate, Wardell."
Fortunate to have friends, Arthur dimly mused as the cushion he reclined on seemed to fold closely around him, like a gigantic hug. He had a friend, too; he was fortunate...
"Wakey, wakey, human!"
Arthur struggled to open his eyes against the blinding light of the midday sun. His whole body ached, he could not move, and his mouth seemed strangely sore and unable to close properly.
Finally, the light relaxed, and Arthur opened his eyes.
The trolls he saw were much more menacing than the carousing wanderers of the previous night. No sooner did he open his eyes than the troll who had spoken to him dumped a bucket of dirty, frigid water over his head. Arthur wanted to yell, but all he could manage was a muffled grunt. A dirty strip of cloth tied around his mouth held his head against a post behind him, the same one his hands and feet were also fastened against. This post was firmly attached at the center of a large, open wagon. Arthur stood at the center of a group of towering, seven-foot trolls, who grinned at him. The one called Garrgan stepped forward as Arthur frantically and fruitlessly flailed against his bonds.
"Now, now," Garrgan laid a beefy hand on Arthur's head as a few of the trolls laughed, "Wardell said you wanted to see the sights, and we couldn't let you sleep away and miss them, now could we?" the whole wagon burst out laughing. Arthur gazed around the moving wagon. They were headed for a dark area, full of craggy cliffs and dilapidated buildings.
"Welcome to Phantasm, human!" Garrgan teased, mocking the welcome he had given Wardell the night before.
Wardell—Arthur felt his gut wrench as he realized the flattering dwarf had willingly parted with him for a vast enough sum of money.
Garrgan watched the despondent human twist as much as he could, straining to find someone. "Looking for your guide?" The troll grunted. "Don't bother; 'e's long gone!" Garrgan let out a short laugh at Arthur's predicament. "Ehh," he waved dismissively, "anyone will tell you not to trust a flattering dwarf, but it happens to work in my favor, so where's the harm?"
They pulled up to a large castle. Somehow, the trolls merely pulled Arthur away from the post and he came, bonds and all. Arthur immediately began hunting for a wall he could scrape the rope against to free himself, but Garrgan hooked his arm through Arthur's and dragged him close.
"Don't bother trying to figure out how to escape troll rope. It's enchanted, and the only way out of it is enchantment." He laughed as he tossed Arthur into a room with only a bed, a plate, a cup, and windows far too narrow for even a slender girl to fit through. A second troll threw in Arthur's mail, his sword, and his satchel after him.
"Sleep well, human," Garrgan called, "You'll want your strength tonight!"
Arthur tried to work himself over to the bed, since his limbs were still tied. He tried to sleep, but it did not happen very much. He could only dream what the troll meant, and every dream was a nightmare.