Free The Adventures of Caterwaul the Cat by Damon Plumides Page A

might cause the nomads to migrate south.
    â€œYour father thought he could gain some advantage by making a covenant with the woodland sorceress. So I and ten of my men chopped through the thick trees for many days until we finally reached this place they call Bug Stool Creek.” There was sadness in his voice.
    â€œNobody told us the forest had certain ‘rules’ that had to be followed. We began our hacking and slashing in broad daylight. The woods seemed to fight us. If we had only waited until nightfall, things might have gone differently. Not one of us had the slightest idea we were being watched . . . and judged by her.
    â€œIt was only after we arrived at this stream that my fate, and that of my men, was sealed. I took a tiny arrow to the cheek. All ten of my men were hit by poison darts. I saw them topple as I felt the consciousness drain from me. When I awoke, I was in this form as you see me now. As you can see, our numbers have grown over time.” He rubbed at his tiny frog moustache.
    â€œI warn you again, Queen Druciah, out of the great respect and love I had for your father, leave this forest now, for in this froggy form, we have no control of ourselves. We are but slaves. We live only to serve the Witch.”
    â€œHow positively awful, General,” said the queen, feigning concern. “Surely there must be some way that you can break this hold that the Witch has over you?”
    Just then, one of the frogs saw an opening. One of the two remaining guards had an itch on his left flank and instinctively moved his hand there to scratch it. As he dragged his nails over the irritated spot, he accidentally raised the fish-scale shirt Joffrey had given him. There was now easily an inch of bare skin unprotected. The frog fired his poisoned porcupine quill, and it lodged itself in the guard’s exposed buttocks.
    The guard leaped into the air, and before his feet could reconnect with earth, he was transformed into a frog. The fish-scale outfit remained, however, and it dropped into the muck of the creek bank. The former guard hopped clumsily across the creek and joined the other frogs in one of the back ranks. Warwick Vane Bezel III grabbed up the garment and put it in his pack.
    â€œGeneral, please, in the name of my father, the king, please do not fire on us again!” implored the queen.
    â€œI’m sorry, your majesty, for I gave no order to fire.” Fairfax was enraged that one of his soldiers would act without orders. After all, if you don’t have discipline in an army, what do you have?
    â€œListen up, you treacherous tadpoles!” he growled. His throat pouch was trembling with the air he was taking in. He was a frog who was used to being obeyed. “If any more shots are fired at the queen or her companions, I am going to deep-fry the shooter’s legs and serve them up to those pitiable possums. Am I understood?
    â€œAnd as for the amphibious anarchist who fired that last shot without my command, I want you to give me fifty pushups, froggy-style.” He looked straight at the shooter. “That means front legs only, now! Somebody count ‘em off!” the General shouted.
    Fairfax returned his attention to Druciah. “I believe you’re safe now, your majesty. You should turn around and get out of here while you still have time. This is no place for royalty, this cesspool of darkness. Save yourself,” pleaded the frog.
    â€œI appreciate your warnings, General, but I must press on. I have to find that Witch,” the queen insisted.
    â€œWell if you must go, follow the flow of the creek for about half a kilometer, and you will find what you are looking for. But don’t say I didn’t warn you, your highness. Witches aren’t the best sorts of people. I don’t expect I will see you again.”
    General Fairfax kicked his rear legs together and raised a webbed foot to his forehead in a salute, and then he and the other frogs