Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO
MUDSLINGING MAYHEM
copyright 2007 Brian Clopper

Graham tried his best to protect Ot from the worst of the attack. If only his frail wings were larger like Blord’s wings, he could’ve shielded them completely from the mud bath they were enduring. Instead, his tiny wings fluttered like helpless leaves caught in the wind. Graham could feel every impact. He could feel the mud sliding off as the slow tug of gravity worked its bitter magic. He would’ve enjoyed a mud battle with his friend, but this was clearly not the case. There was cruel intent behind each throw. Graham had to do something, but didn’t know what. He looked down to check on the troll.

Ot was hunched over and smiling. “You are such a pal! You don’t have to keep the mud off me. I don’t mind.”

Graham shook his head. “It wouldn’t be right. Blord has it in for me, not you. I just don’t know what to do next.”

“Just let them continue. They’ll eventually get bored and go away.”

“I’m not so sure of that. They can be pretty persistent. Bullies are like that.” The gargoyle felt a rather large mudpie hit him square in the back of his head. “Maybe I should fight back.”

“The hornet’s nest is already disturbed. Don’t stir it up further.” Ot’s tiny eyes beamed with sincerity.

Graham loved his friend, but found his peace-loving temperament annoying. “Those are your dad’s words, aren’t they?”

Ot shrugged. “Can I help it if he gives good advice?”

Graham shifted his weight. Hunching over his friend was starting to become an uncomfortable task. “My legs will cramp up if I stay in this position much longer.”

“Then move,” Ot said.

Graham frowned as he stretched out his left leg in an effort to avoid a muscle cramp. His friend was right. Ignoring the bullies was the best option. Graham settled in for a long wait. As long as he flexed his legs once in a while, he could prevent his muscles from tightening.

He closed his eyes and let his mind wander, a feat he excelled at in school and at home. Graham imagined himself flying his friend off to safety. He pictured them skimming above the clouds. He smiled as Ot reached down, attempting to gather up the cloud stuff as if it were cotton candy. If only his wings were bigger, stronger. His grandfather’s words echoed in his mind. “You will fly the highest of them all, little one.” His grandfather always said it with such faith and conviction.

Graham’s pleasant daydreaming was interrupted by a horrible racket. Blord had joined the battle, except he was slinging insults rather than mud.

“I should’ve known you’d just huddle together and do nothing. You’re a coward, Graham. Your little sister has more guts than you do.”

Graham squeezed his eyes shut even tighter.

“Heck, her wings are even bigger than yours,” Blord chuckled.

“He can only hurt you if you let him,” whispered Ot.

“Yeah, well, it’s hard not to feel bad,” Graham replied.

Blord’s next insult found its mark. “Maybe you’re just turning to stone like your grandfather. I hear it happens to people who sit around and do nothing.”

Graham’s blood boiled. He spun around, scooping up a large clump of mud at the same time.

Blord’s gang stopped hurling mudpies, shocked that Graham had turned to face them.

Graham wrapped his fingers around the mud he held. Surprisingly, he felt a stone sliding around in the mud. “You don’t talk about my grandfather!!”

With all his strength, the tiny-winged gargoyle fired the mudpie containing the stone at the biggest target of the bunch, Blord.

The mud slapped into the gargoyle’s nose with a wet thud. Blord hunched over, clutching his nose. “By Nobz! By Nobz! Moo little mweep. You mit by nobz mith a mock!”

Blord rushed at Graham, his huge arms outstretched. “Margghhh!”

Graham slipped in the mud as he attempted to avoid the bully. Instead, his right leg shot up, dangled in the air and tripped the angry gargoyle. Blord went airborne for a brief moment, flapping his wings to avoid landing in the mud fields. Despite their immense size, Blord’s wings did not help him. He smashed back down to the ground, sliding a good five yards through the mud.

All was quiet and still for a time. Graham and Ot gawked in disbelief. Blord’s gang hovered in a semicircle, uncertain what to do next. Their leader rested in the mud, covered from head to tail in the extra moist earth.

“This can’t be good,” whispered Ot.

Blord slowly rose to his feet. Ignoring the mud dripping from him, the bully strutted over to Graham. He loomed over the tiny gargoyle by a good three feet. Graham could see a trickle of blood from Blord’s nose mixing with the mud decorating his face.

“I challenge you.” Blord’s voice was filled with hate.

Graham felt like a mouse with its tail stuck in a trap.

“I challenge you to a race.” Blord exhaled, his breath pushing away the very air around him. “A race over Mount Prometheus. Dawn tomorrow. Be there or else.”

Blord turned and walked away with his gang trailing behind him. Graham and Ot watched in silence until the bullies disappeared into the nearby woods.

Ot spoke first, “That’s one angry hornet, Graham.”

Graham slowly nodded.