[In loving memory of Cowbell luminary Gene Frenkle (1950-2000).]
“Kat,” Dunstana says, pointing up to the Elf walking beside her. “This is my new friend Nix. She’s a bard. She says she wants to write a song about me and you and Captain Fryte! Isn’t that cool?”
The Elf woman is a bit older than Kat, with long, pale golden hair, a red beret on her head, a scarf around her neck and a … lute, maybe — Kat doesn’t know musical instruments well enough to identify to the thing — strapped over her shoulder.
“I like your hat,” Kat says, pointing to the beret on Nix’s head.
“Huh?” the Elf says, blinking at Kat. “Sorry. Dunstana was telling me about your whole adventure with Captain Fryte. I’ve been trying to think of things that I can rhyme with Fryte — might, bite, fight, tonight, airtight.”
“And who’s that?” Kat asks, pointing to the animal perched on Nix’s shoulders.
“This is Penny,” Nix answers. “She’s my pet Miniature High Aurorean Seal.”
“Arf!” the seal says happily.
Kat eyes the creature cautiously, wondering if she’s about to spend the foreseeable future with a Miniature High Aurorean Seal riding around in her pocket, not unlike a certain bewildering weasel…
Dunstana grins up at her sister.
“I’m going to be a bard, too!” she declares. “I’m gonna do Music and stuff!”
“You’re already a pirate,” Kat notes. “How are you going to be a bard, too?”
“I can do both!” Dunstana insists.
“You don’t even play any instruments,” Kat continues.
“Way ahead of you,” Dunstana says. “I’m learning Cowbell.”
“That is not an instrument.”
“Sure it is!” Dunstana insists. “Look!”
She produces a large metal bell and a small stick from the holds of her coat and eagerly sets to “playing” the thing.
CLONK! CLONK! CLONK!
Kat shudders at the onslaught of noise.
Dunstana, however, just keeps Cowbelling.
CLONKCLONK! CLONK! CLONKCLONKCLONK!
Dunstana has no particular sense of rhythm or musicality or even simple logic, just happily letting herself be carried away by the spirit of the Cowbell.
CLONK! CLONK! CLONK!
“Okay —” Kat begins.
CLONKCLONKCLONK!
“— I get it, Captain Kid —”
CLONK!
“— You —”
CLONK! CLONK!
“— can —”
CLONKCLONKCLONK! CLONKCLONKCLONK!
“— stop now —”
CLONK! CLONK! CLONK!
“— please.”
CLONK!
Once Dunstana is finally all CLONK’d out, she lowers her Cowbell and Cowbelling Stick and grins broadly up at Kat and Nix.
“Wasn’t that great?” she asks. “Being a bard is, like, the best thing ever! I’m going be the coolest pirate in the world!”
She smiles up at Nix.
“Thanks for teaching me Music,” she tells the Elf.
“Captain Kid,” Kat groans. “That was not music! You can’t just randomly whack a Cowbell a couple times. You could least learn to play a real song.”
“So,” Dunstana ventures, raising her Cowbelling Stick once more. “What you’re saying is that I should keep going. Right, I need to keep practicing so I get even better!”
The colour drains from Kat’s face.
That is not what she is saying. That is not what she’s saying at all.
“No!”
But it’s too late.
CLONKCLONKCLONK! CLONKCLONKCLONK!
Kat groans.
Penny the Miniature High Aurorean Seal reaches over to put a consoling flipper on her shoulder.
“Arf!”
Dunstana be like:
Image via Dictionary.com
Kat storms into the Lyte public house.
“Amara got kidnapped by pirates,” she explains simply. “I need help.”
“What?” Nolan exclaims.
“Come on, uh —” Kat stares at Nolan and realises she doesn’t remember his name. “— you. We’re going to go save your girlfriend.”
“She is not my —” Nolan begins.
He blinks as a thought occurs to him.
“Wait. Does Amara talk about me?”
“Take it up with her after we rescue her,” Kat says, hauling Nolan to his feet and out of the pub.
The rest of the Lyte Brigade stares dumbly as this unfolds.
“S-should we go help?” Tancred asks, breaking the silence.
“Probably,” Pela says. “Amara’s our friend and Nolan is our Captain.”
Soon, Kat and the Lyte Brigade are at Darkstone Manor, trying to come up with a plan to rescue Amara from her piratical captors, as Dunstana restlessly orbits the table, trying to peer over the others’ shoulders to offer her own input.
“I’ve scoped out the pirates’ boathouse,” Kat explains. “And it’s built like a fortress. We’re either going to hit it really hard, or be really clever to find a way inside.”
“We could try to bluff our way in,” Matilda offers. “Put on disguises, or something, and talk them into just letting us in.”
“All seven of us?” Tancred asks.
“We could pretend to be new recruits who want to join the pirates,” Nolan offers.
“Oh!” Pela says suddenly. “We could bake a really big pie for the rest of us to hide in while two of us deliver it to the pirates.”
“But wouldn’t they realise that they never ordered a giant pie?” Matilda asks.
Pela frowns. “Oh, yeah. That’s the sort of thing they’d be talking about.” Her frown deepens. “I think I might just be hungry. Maybe we should stop for lunch.”
Falcata points to Kat’s sketch of the pirates’ boathouse. “That side door seems like an obvious week point,” she offers. “We could simply batter it down and storm the boathouse.”
“Can we storm an entire crew of pirates with seven people?” Nolan asks.
“What we set fire to one of the outbuildings?” Tancred offers. “What’s that, a storage shed? We could use that as a distraction without running the risk of hurting anyone?”
Tancred looks up to the others staring in mute bemusement at him.
“What?” he asks defensively. “It’s a perfectly legitimate siege tactic.”
“We can’t just go around starting fires in the dock district!” Matilda protests.
“But, you know, if we did start a fire,” Dunstana muses.
“We are not starting any fires!” Kat interjects. “Especially not you, Dunstana!”
“But —”
“No, Dunstana.”
“Not even a little one?”
“No, Dunstana.”
Kat slumps back against the couch.
“Ugh. We’re not getting anywhere!”
“Come on,” Nolan urges the others. “Amara is counting on us! We can’t just leave her there. I’m sure we can think of something if we all work together.”
Dunstana slowly raises her hand.
“No fires, Dunstana!” Kat says.
“Would some music help you think?” Dunstana asks hopefully.
She reaches into her coat pockets and pulls out her cowbell.
CLONK! CLONK! CLONK!
When suddenly:
Image via Dictionary.com
P.S. What I learned from having COVID back in November is that Cowbell is, in fact, a poor remedy for Fever…
You lied to me, Lorne Michaels…
And now, for some reminders:
Recap the three weeks that were of my June Mythology Worldbuilding Exercise:
And catch up with Chapter 2 of The Bandits of Goldharbour before Chapter 3 goes live tomorrow:
And follow me here:
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