Quentin's Quest (SpookySpells#5)

Prince Quentin was a daring chap
who loved a tricky quest.
The tasks with dragons breathing fire,
he liked the very best.
Despite his keen demeanour
taking danger on quite gladly,
if Quentin helped a damsel in distress,
it turned out badly.
The King and Queen both worried
for they secretly agreed,
although the prince was brave,
he was unlikely to succeed.

The servants had to bathe his wounds
and clean his sooty features,
when he limped home from tussling
with fire-breathing creatures.

Then when young Quentin heard about
a lass who’d been enchanted
and as a bacon butty was now
on a plate transplanted,
his mum and dad became concerned,
for with a witch involved,
Prince Quentin could be zapped, blown up
or maybe get dissolved.

In fact, two weeks before,
the Duke and Duchess of Eldritch
had disappeared abruptly
in encounters with this witch.

“Oh Quentin dear, she sounds so mean,”
his mum the Queen entreated.
“She might transform you to a humble frog
if you’re defeated!”

“Don’t worry,” was his brave retort,
“triumphant I shall be.
No witch could ever make
a green amphibian of me!”

So off he set upon his horse;
with fanfares he was cheered
until into the magic wood nearby
he disappeared …

The trees were tall and ominous
and scary beasties scurried
within the bushes near the prince,
which made him slightly worried.

“Be brave!” he thought, as just above his head
the rooks and crows
flew circles round and round before
they swooped and pecked his nose.

“Gerroff! Gerroff!” the prince exclaimed
so loud that every word
rang out until by Spooky Sal the Witch
the lad was heard.

Now Spooky Sal was not all bad,
although she looked quite weird:
with warts, a crooked nose, green teeth,
eyepatch and wispy beard.

The trouble was that folks were scared
whenever she flew by:
they’d run off screaming or chuck bricks,
which helped her justify
her predilection to respond
with spells that rearranged
their arms and legs and heads and things
until they looked quite strange.

“Hello young man,” old Spooky said,
“I think you must be lost.”
“No, no. I’m here to right a wrong,”
was Quentin’s quick riposte.

“Oh yes, what’s that?” came Sal’s reply,
pretending she knew nothing.
“You changed a girl,” Prince Quentin said,
“into a bacon muffin!”

“Oh her! Well, she was mean,” Sal said,
displaying no remorse,
while Quentin took his big sword out
and fell down off his horse.

Old Spooky Sal then helped him up
and whispered in the ear
of Quentin’s steed, which strangely made
some zig zag bolts appear,
all followed with a fizz, a crash
and swirling lilac smoke,
before the horse transformed into
some naked ginger bloke.

“It’s Uncle Phil!” Prince Quentin gasped
as Phil checked out his bearings,
then dashed behind a bush
due to the clothes he was not wearing.

“Duke Phillip here had vexed me once;
he said I was a hag!
He tried to banish me and so
I changed him to a nag.”

While Uncle Phil nipped off to find
some leaves to hide his shame,
young Quentin stood all righteous and
with sword in hand proclaimed:

“I charge you, Spooky Sal, with crimes
of transmogrification;
your misdemeanours carried out
for self-gratification.”

Old Spooky sighed and from her robes
produced her witch’s wand:
“Dear Prince, are you quite sure you want
to end up in a pond?”

Prince Quentin took no backward step
but simply cleared his throat,
then stared into the distance
as he gave this stirring quote:

“If I should end my life a frog,
and folks about me speak,
I’d like it known my quests were to
protect the poor and weak.”

On hearing such a heartfelt speech,
old Sal felt rather sad.
Could using spells and charms mean that
she was so very bad?

But she was interrupted by
a screech from out the blue,
as flying high above their heads
a dragon came in view.

This massive, scaly, scary beast
with wings just like a bat,
then landed, breathing fire nearby,
which singed the witch’s hat.

Once more bold Quentin screwed
his courage to the sticking place
and stood there shielding Spooky Sal,
a grimace on his face.

“Stand back and do not fear, for though
you’re not a young princess,
I’ve sworn an oath to save
all ladies in such dire distress.”

“Oh don’t be daft,” the witch replied.
“I’m not some shrinking flower.
No fire breathing dragon’s
gonna make old Spooky cower!”

And with a spell the prince was stopped,
as Sal approached the beastie,
then with a swish and flick of wand
transformed it most completely.

“Good grief, the dragon’s Aunty June!”
the prince cried in dismay,
while June ran off into the woods,
quite keen to get away.

“Your Aunty June, the duchess, was
most horribly unkind.
She said I was a dragon,
so I knew I’d have to find
a shape for her to change into
that might just help June see
how tricky it is for a witch
who’s ugly, just like me …”

Then Quentin sat upon a log,
his mind all in a spin;
you shouldn’t disrespect a soul,
a pauper, witch or king.

He knew this quest just wasn’t right
and it would need to change.
You mustn’t pick on anyone,
especially if they’re strange.

“I’m sorry Spooky Sal, I feel
I must apologise:
my family and I were wrong.
You’ve opened up my eyes!”

Enchanted by his true remorse,
old Sal bestowed a wish
upon this thoughtful royal youth
which she’d grant with a swish
of witch’s wand. So thinking hard,
he chose his heart’s desire:
young Quentin asked for dragon’s wings
and lungs that could breathe fire …

And so Prince Quentin flies about
with dragons all day long,
debating with them whether stealing
princesses is wrong,
and with his social conscience,
advocates all global views,
breathing fire only sparingly
at palace barbeques.



End