THE BADGER
Doggerel by S. Colbert
With a grunt he managed to get his hands over the edge of the window and pull himself up. The climb had certainly been a long and arduous one and what he deserved just then was a swig of the castle's finest wine. Unfortunately, all he had was the cheap stuff he had brought with him. Although he was a thief and therefore just the type to steal wine that didn't belong to him, the good wine was in the cellar, which was some distance from the highest tower, which is what he had just climbed into. Smirking at that thought, he took a deep draught of what he judged to be the finest wine he had ever tasted. This was hardly impressive considering the fact it was the only wine he had ever tasted, aside from what he received at church mass.
Although the Badger was crude and uncultured in just about as many ways as one could think of (and in some one couldn't), he was not a drunkard. He had seen drunks. Shaky walkers with shaky hands. In his line of business, shaky hands could be deadly.
Having taken of the delights of Bacchus he tossed the still mostly full wine skin from the window and onto the roof of the guard house below. The Badger took no notice of the rather large stir created when a couple of guards came to see what the racket was about, only to see him silhouetted in the window of the Royal Treasury. Turning to the work at hand, the Badger began searching for his prize.
Contrary to popular belief, treasuries do not contain gold coins piled waist high, topped with an occasional blinking gem. No, the treasury is very organized. It has its walls lined with sacks of 500 gold coins each and sacks of 500 silver each. This monotony of bags is only broken up by the occasional chest holding the more interesting items. To these chests the Badger made his way.
Fortunately, this King's treasurer was a particularly organized one and had clearly labeled each box, so as to give the Badger no trouble at all. He passed up the coronation jewels, the ceremonial jewels, the magical totems, and the chest marked `Scrolls of extreme power.' The Badger went straight to a small, unimpressive and well-used, oak chest and opened it up. After much rummaging he was able to locate what he was searching for and stuffed it into his pants.
By now quite a lot of noise had built up on the stairwell. Apparently, someone was trying to get in, saying there was thief in the tower while another voice was saying that he was to let no one pass under any circumstance. The Badger found the thing quite comical and was unable to prevent a roar of extreme gaiety from escaping his lips. It seems that was all it took to convince the second guard that perhaps someone HAD gotten past him. A fraction of a second later, the door to the room burst inward, releasing a swarm of armed men into the chamber. The tallest of these individuals took control of the situation.
"How in God's name did you get in here?!" It wasn't eloquent, but it was to the point.
The Badger began telling the tale of his birth, while a pale, thin man crept into the room and began examining the bags and chests. Assumedly this was the diligent treasurer assessing the damages. Just as the Badger was to the part where he fell from his Lord's apple tree and hit his head at the tender age of eight and the jaws of the disbelieving sentrymen had gotten just about as low as one could expect, the perplexed accountant type whispered something into the ear of the tall man. Having been given a purpose again the soldier got a grip of himself and addressed the soon-to-be-his prisoner.
"Forget that nonsense. What were you attempting to steal? If you volunteer the information we might just let you live."
The Badger was most apologetic and explained how he had meant no inconvenience and had hoped to be in and out without disturbing anyone's sleep. One small insignificant item was all he had asked for and besides, the King was a cheap sonofabitch.
This time the Treasurer addressed him directly. "How dare you? Don't you understand how fragile the ground you stand on is? It is over 150 feet to the ground and the only exit is blocked by every guard in the castle. You have no chance."
"Really, every guard...hmmm...What you are saying is all very interesting, especially that part about fragile ground. You know I've been thinking about that for some time myself. My theory is that the ground is like the skin that forms on top of thick potato soup and beneath it is really lamp oil and bread crumbs. I mean, that would finally explain all those odd holes and ditches in the road, don't you think?"
The air remained thick with noncomprehension. "Hmmm... Oh, well, maybe not. Ta ta." And with that he put his foot on the window's edge and jumped off into space.
There was an extremely long pause before anyone spoke. It was the tall sentry who broke it. "My God, he's gone and killed his-self."
"Must a thought it was his only way out," muttered another. They all went to the window, but were unable to see any sign of his body.
"Maybe he bounced to one side of the tower..." offered one of the younger sentries. The others just nodded, not wanting to ponder the gruesome facts of the situation. Finally, the Treasurer had to bring them back to reality.
"I know this is most upsetting, but we must determine what's missing. If one of the king's prize possessions is gone we must try and return it before morning. I wouldn't want to be the one to have to tell him we lost his royal scepter because we didn't know it had been taken. There is an itemized list in each chest. Search them and I'll start counting the coins." He turned to start before remembering a small detail he had almost forgotten. "Oh yes, and send some men to locate the body of that fool and dispose of it. The Queen would be most distressed if she were to find tomorrow morning that his body had bounced into her garden."
Less than fifteen minutes later the searching of the chests was complete and the missing item was determined. Drawing lots, it was determined that the youngest sentry(and therefore the one unfamiliar with cheating while drawing lots) was to tell the Treasurer.
"A what?!? Surely you're kidding me. Repeat it again, so I know you're insane." The Treasurer was beside himself.
The young sentry held his ground. "Apparently sir, the intruder scaled one hundred and fifty feet of slick castle wall, risking life and limb just to retrieve one," the sentry looked at the inventory list again,"brown oak yo-yo with silver trim."
He was twenty miles out of town before he finally jumped off the back of that hay truck. Damn lucky thing it had past by when it had. He hadn't thought he could have survived a fall from that height, but he was willing to try anything once. Spinning his yo-yo out there in the darkness, with only the moonlight reflecting off of its silver trim he thought back on how he had always assumed that royalty got the best toys. He gave the yo-yo one more spin and then tossed into the nearby bush. He had been wrong.
He pulled out the one his father had hand-carved for him and began to spin it, noticing immediately the better balance and weight. It had been a lot of trouble to go through to prove a point, but it had been worth it. Whatever he did was always fun under the moonlight. He felt it brought out the best in him.
Oh yes, what I failed to mention about the Badger is that in addition to being one of the finest thieves around, he is also stark, raving mad. This is perfectly all right, since it tends to make him a most interesting person.
At least that is what the shadow that has appeared behind him and continues to trail at a safe distance seems to think.
April 24, 1992