FREE PREVIEW: Frog of Arcadia
An excerpt from my book, Frog of Arcadia
That evening was cool. Mist lay low in the muskeg reducing visibility. Under cover of long grass by the edge of the pond, the fellowship met to depart on their quest. Horatio arrived with a dozen of his Merry Peepers. Three days of peril were set before them—across shallow water, over bedrock, and without sufficient vegetation for safe refuge. The words that Prince Augustine had said the night before had been ringing through Thomas’ head ever since: “Azerel soars high above her great table at dawn and dusk, and feasts on anything that dares to cross it.”
And at the end of that perilous journey, the weasels! In planning the logistics of their quest, it was determined that departing at night would allow all those who survived the Dragon’s Table to arrive at the weasels’ lair at night, enhancing their surprise attack.
The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on all, as even the Spring Peepers seemed to forget their collective PEEP.
Rainette could see the welling concern in his friend’s demeanor as Thomas pondered their strategy one last time. “Don’t worry, mon ami. Great ships are not built for the harbour.” Rising to the occasion, Rainette reached into his satchel and presented an old, weathered concertina. Then he erupted into a sudden yet sombre bellow, singing:
Well, now, my lads be of good cheer For our long lost coast it do draw near Soon we'll sight our homeland clear Where we frogs will once more roam.
Without missing a beat, Horatio’s band formed the chorus of their mutual ancestral ballad.
Whip jamboree! Whip jam-bo-ree! Melchizedek’s house it does carry on Whip jamboree! Whip jam-bo-ree! Melchizedek’s house carries on.
Drinking foamy bog water from acorn shell cups, the Peepers became rowdy. Perhaps it was the nerves that can be attributed to the eve of adventure. But every verse was recited with multiplied gusto. And while the words of this epic song were alien to Thomas, it was in that common chorus that he realized the weight of all that Augustine had longed for. For even to this day, the tadpoles of this muskeg are raised on the glorious tales of these bygone days, and the hope for their return. Thomas understood, at that moment more than ever, that their quest must not fail.
With a fair kiss do give your wife Be gone for weeks but to build a life Have ye no more swords and no more knives Where we frogs will once more roam. Whip jamboree! Whip jam-bo-ree! Melchizedek’s house it does carry on Whip jamboree! Whip jam-bo-ree! Melchizedek’s house carries on.
Finding his courage in song, Thomas looked onward. He recognized the plaintiff wailing behind the ballad, that a worthy frog would once again sit upon their great king's throne. This had been Augustine's birthright, which he had sought to earn by merit.
Thomas could see the prince's robin scouts returning on the horizon. As they winged overhead, the shanty continued. Horatio looked up and nodded.
“Azerel is asleep now,” Horatio said to his men. “And I’ve heard this story enough. It’s time we added our own verse to this song.”
And with that, the fellowship took their first steps out of the cattails, into the pond, and on their way to reclaim the muskeg for their beloved Augustine.
Under cover of darkness, each frog waded out further, with folded lily pads stowed on their backs for makeshift cover. Being unaccustomed to swimming, Thomas packed a young pinecone to keep him buoyant.
Thomas' gazed up into the night sky and winked at the silvery moon, which was just now revealing itself. And bravely, these crusading critters embarked further into the cool of the night, fully ready for whatever horrors the dawn might bring.
