“I’m a king too,” Ekaraj insisted to everyone in the cave.  “Only in India, it’s called a Raja.”

“How come you have such little ears?” Rosa asked the elephant while wiping mud from her dress.

Randolph pushed his way to the front, forcing the penguins to move aside for him.  “Who are you again?” he asked the leader of the hermits.

“Robin,” he replied, shaking Randolph’s hand, “Robin Hood.  Welcome to Sherwood Forest.”

“But this is a cave,” said Gretel looking around at the bare walls and ceiling with stalactites hanging down.  The bunks were in the center.

“Clever disguise, don’t you think?” said one of the hermits.

“You have a forest disguised as a cave?” asked Colleen.

“No, no.  It’s really a cave.  We just call it a forest.  That’s the disguise.”  The other hermits nodded in agreement.

“Makes it hard to get mail delivered, though,” added one of them.

Gretel had a sudden thought.  “Mr. Hood, do you have a sister named Red Riding?”

“No.  But I have a cousin by that name.  What a wonderful girl.  She’s taking care of our grandmother.  I hope everything’s alright.”

“Oh dear,” answered Gretel.  “I believe I heard something about indigestion.”

“An elephant can’t be a king, can it?” asked Randolph.

“That’s what the lion said,” answered Ekaraj, “until I wrapped him around a tree.  He doesn’t go roaring ‘Who’s the King of the Jungle’ around me any more.”

“Ekaraj means king in Hindu, doesn’t it?” asked Llywarch.  “I’ve done some study of the Indo-European language tree.”

"Why, yes it does.”  Ekaraj was impressed.  “I’m surprised.  Not many people know that.”

“I’ve always been fascinated by languages,” replied Llywarch modestly.  “Lately I’ve been studying the Slavic languages in the upper branches.  Please, call me Larry”

“Those branches are interesting.  But I’m especially fond of Mandarin Chinese.”

“Why that’s what I’m speaking now.”

“You can call me Icky,” said the elephant, obviously thrilled to find a fellow linguist.

“What are we going to do about rescuing Irving,” interrupted Chevy.

“Who’s Irving?” replied her father.

*     *     *

“Blimey!  That girl wanted another bed,” said Gary to Geowulf, as he returned from answering the service bell for room 1403B.

“How many does that make?” asked Geowulf.

“Thirteen.  What does anybody do with thirteen beds?”

Outside the castle, Irving dropped into the snow as she let go of the thirteenth bed sheet that she had knotted and made into a rope that was dangling from the fourteenth floor.

*     *     *

 Back in the cave, Robin was insisting, “We have to carefully plan the attack.  My daughter’s freedom depends on it.”  He broke off a stalactite and started to draw an outline of the castle on the floor of the cave before the penguins.

“Attent-hup!  Sound off!” ordered the lead penguin.  “One!”

“Two!  Three!  Four!  Four!  Six!  Seven!  Eight!  Nine!  Ten!”

“First order of business,” Robin rose and continued.  He turned to Rosa and asked, “Would you ever considered marrying a man with a fourteen year-old daughter?”

“Huh?” said Chris.  “What does that have to do with a battle plan?”

“You have to pick your battles to win your wars.” Robin replied.

“That’s what I’ve always said,” agreed Randolph.

Robin turned back to Rosa.  He straightened his tunic, took of his feathered hat and smoothed his hair, then stroked his goatee.  “Did you know I’m a king?” he asked to impress her.

“So am I,” repeated Ekaraj.

“Wait a minute,” objected one of the hermits.  “That’s an unfair advantage.  You can’t use your rank like that.  The rest of us like brunettes, too.”  He turned to Rosa and asked, “Did you know I’m a prince?”

“Humph!” responded Robin folding his arms over his chest.  “I once had a dog named Prince.”

“Oh dear,” said Gretel.

“Don’t worry,” Randolph comforted her.  “You’re a blonde.”

“I’m a duke,” said another hermit.  “I’m a count,” added another.  “Marquis, here.”  “Baron,” came with a German accent.”   “Knight.”  “Indian Chief.”  They all crowded around her.

“How do you feel about notary publics?” asked the last hermit elbowing his way to the front.

“I tend to fall in love with boorish simpletons who are rude, disobedient, not at all funny, and steal things!” Rosa replied.

“Why, that could be anyone of us,” they all agreed, very much encouraged.

“How is that going to help us rescue Irving?” objected Chevy.

“Who’s Irving?” they all asked.

*     *     *

“There’s a village,” Irving said to herself, as she emerged from the forest into a Laplander settlement.

It was different from the German towns she was used to.  Here everyone lived in igloos or reindeer hide tents.  It was obviously a prosperous village.  The igloos and tents were large and spacious.  Behind them were red wood barns filled to the brim with hay, and grains, and sweet potatoes.  Large herds of reindeer were corralled, but tethered to the fences to keep them from flying away.  The only sign of urban blight was one igloo at the edge of town where it appeared the owner had tried to install a hot tub – only to have the back half of his house melt.

She was met by a rowdy group of town’s folk brandishing pitchforks, hoes, and shovels, plus one push broom.

“Bring the torches,” one of them shouted.  “We have a monster.”

“Where?” asked Irving looking around.

“Blast it!  Why can’t we ever find a monster that knows it is one?”  All the villagers nodded in agreement.

“You’ve had this trouble before?” Irving continued.

“I suppose you’re going to insist that you’re just a lost girl.”

“Isn’t that what I look like?” she responded incredulously.

“Monsters are masters of disguises,” came the reply.

“Have you ever seen a monster,” Irving asked.  She folded her arms and tapped her foot, looking very skeptical.

“No!  See how good their disguises are.”  “That’s right”  “Here!  Here!” added the others.

“But this one looks like our old queen,” one of the more moderate ones admitted.

“That was my mother.  I’m Irving.”

The villagers muttered amongst themselves.  “Sorry,” one of them finally said.  “The Princess’s name was Georgette.  We still think you’re a monster.”

“But Georgette’s my real name.  I just like to be called Irving.”

The villagers muttered again.  “That makes sense,” the one admitted.  “We like to be called Clyde.”

“Where did you learn Laplander?” one of them asked her.

“Is that what I’m speaking?  I must have learned it as a baby.”

Convinced the villages all got down on one knee and cried, “Hail to Princess Georgette, and her father, King Robin.  Long live the Princess.”

“Please call me Irving,” she said, as she motioned them to rise.  “Now that that’s settled, how do you feel about storming the castle?”

“Bring the torches,” one of them shouted. 

*     *     *

“My daughter likes to be called Irving?” Robin asked incredulously.

The travelers nodded.

“That’s not the nickname I would have picked for her.  I think I would have called her Georgie.”

“Humph!  I once had a dog named Georgie,” said the Prince.

“How do you feel about storming the castle?” Randolph suggested.  He was getting impatient to be doing anything.  And preferring blondes, as well as being married already, he had no interest in impressing Rosa.

“That’s the plan I was looking for,” said the King.

*     *     *

“What’s that noise outside?  Can’t I ever have peace and quiet?” asked the hag, as she looked up from the fish bone soup she was enjoying.

“Nevermore,” quote the raven on her shoulder.

“It sounds like the villagers are storming the castle again.” replied the goblin in Eddie’s clothing, who was standing guard behind her.  He kept leaning over and sniffing at the soup to see if it would clear his sinuses.  “Shall I tell them this is a bad time?”

“No, no.” said the faux Snow Queen getting up and rolling up the sleeves of her royal robes.  “I’ve been spoiling for a fight ever since I landed in that snow bank.  Go bar the front door.  Helga, lets start hauling boiling water up to the ramparts.”

“And who’s going to clean the kitchen while I’m hauling all this water?” complained the witch, as she put a cauldron on to boil.

*     *     *

“Finally,” said the Laplander mayor, as the villagers arrived at the castle and started raising a ruckus, stamping their wet feet.  “I hate wood sprites.”

“There was one missing.  That’s what confused me,” added another villager.

“Whose turn is it to knock on the door?” the mayor asked as they gathered around the steps leading to the solid oak barrier.

“Jimmy!  Let my boy, Jimmy, do it.”

“Blimey!  Is he old enough?”

“He turns fifteen next week.  We’re going to have a party.”

“Good enough.  Do you know what to say, Jimmy?”

“Yes, sir,” Jimmy replied.  Boldly, he walked up to the front door and banged on the huge knocker.  “We demand freedom from tyranny and oppression!” he cried.

“That’s my boy,” his mother sobbed.

A large cascade of boiling water fell from above, momentarily hiding Jimmy from view.  In a moment the steam cleared and the villagers could see Jimmy again.

“Er…” said the mayor to Jimmy’s mother.  “About that party…You haven’t sent out invitations yet, have you?”

*     *     *

“You people can’t loiter here.  You’re in the way.  We’re going to storm castle,” said King Robin, when he and his group arrived - also with wet feet.  Having not seen his daughter since infancy, he didn’t recognize her among the villagers.

“I still say there was no reason to follow a wood sprite in the day time,” insisted Randolph, as he stamped.  They had stopped off along the way to collect the cart and their swords, but the Blarney stone and carpet were left in the meadow for safe keeping.

“Get in line,” said the mayor.  “We were here first.”

Suddenly the sun went down.

“I hate this Artic weather,” said Randolph.

“Light the torches!” cried the mayor.  There was another general muttering among the villagers.  Finally someone whispered in his ear.  “Dang blast it!” said the mayor.  “Finally there’s a chance to use the torches and we forgot them.”

 “That’s alright.  I tell you what,” said Robin.  “Let’s band together and use our torches…What?”  The Count whispered in his ear.  “Er…It seems that we have neglected to bring any either.  But we can still join forces.”  Everyone agreed to that, although it was hard to see them nod in the dark.  He tapped one of the hermits to get his attention.  “Go knock on the door,” he said.

Everyone could see the shadow of the hermit as he found the large knocker and started to raise it.  As he did another cascade of boiling water enveloped him.  The steam cleared.  But the shadow was gone.

“Hum…You weren’t especially fond of the baron, were you?” Robin asked Rosa.

“Why don’t we have that little-eared elephant knock the door down,” suggested a villager.

“Oww!  My nose,” said Ekaraj, a minute later.  The boiling water had no affect on his tough hide, but the door was still standing, sturdier than it looked.

“I think that’s starting to swell.”  Rosa felt it.  “Let’s pack it in ice.”

“Oww!  Be careful,” Ekaraj said when Rosa pushed his head down into a snow bank.

“Here.  Let me help,” said Gretel.  She used a flint to light the push broom one of the villagers was carrying.  When she could see, she used her apron to wrap his nose in a shoulder harness and gently packed snow around it.

“I think I’m seeing double.  And now I’m really ugly.”

 “It doesn’t look that bad,” Gretel responded.  “My sister-in-law, Mimi, would love it.  But have you ever considered doing something about your ears?”

The darkness and size of the elephant prevented Irving and her friends from recognizing each other.  “Psst!” Randolph motioned to Chris.  “While it’s dark, let’s scout around the sides.”

“What do you think this is for?” Chris asked Randolph, when they came across Irving’s bed sheet rope.  “Do you suppose it’s laundry day?”

“Let’s climb it.  No one will see us in the dark.”

They were at about the fifth floor when the sun came up.

“What the heck?” said a goblin, who was washing windows.  “I wonder if they’re coming or going.”

“Blimey!” said Randolph, as they entered room 1403B and saw the thirteen beds.  Some of them were stacked atop of others, while some were leaning against the wall.  “Do you suppose she’s having a slumber party?”

“BANG!  BANG!  BANG!”

They used a bed to knock down the door just as the goblins reached the fourteenth floor.

“Stand back,” Geowulf said to his men, and he reached over and pressed the knob.

When the dust settled, Randolph and Chris found themselves back in the dungeon staring eye-to-eye with Jerry.

*     *     *

“I remember there used to be a broken window latch on the first floor,” said Robin.

“Is that the first floor on the ground or is that the first floor that starts on the second floor?” the little penguin asked.

“Can I climb on your back?” the King asked Ekaraj.

“Oh sure,” he complained.  “After we make fun of his ears and break his proboscis, let’s everybody walk all over the elephant.”

Rosa slapped him on the nose.

“Oww!”

“If you don’t be good, I’m going to hit it with this pan.”

“I like a feisty woman,” said the Notary Public.

The latch was still broken, so Robin climbed in.  But by the time he went around to open the door, the others were already inside.

“I kicked it in,” said Hombre, as Robin looked at his broken and splintered door, barely hanging from its hinges.  “I hope you don’t mind.”  He was wearing Colleen’s pot over his head like a helmet.  It saved him from the boiling water, although he was a little red on the back of his neck.  She was looking at him adoringly and feeling his muscles.

“Where are the stairs?” asked the Laplander mayor.  “We’ve never gotten this far before.  Never mind, there they are,” he added, as the goblins rushed down them and engaged in hand-to-hand combat, swinging their mighty battle axes.

Hombre climbed on Harley and rode upstairs to the ramparts with the pot clanking on his head.  Chevy was right behind him, headed to the fourteenth floor to rescue Irving.

“Here kitty, kitty,” said Walter, as he looked for the cat and the bowl of food.

CRASH!

One of the vases became the first battle casualty, as the tabby streaked from behind it to the safety of the broom closet.

“This is an awfully nice couch and love seat combination,” said one of the village women.  “Help me with this,” she ordered her husband.  Ignoring the battle, they stacked one on top of the other and carted them out the broken door.

The penguins were quickly enlisted to haul away whatever furniture caught the fancy of the Laplander women.  “Three French hens.  Two turtle-doves.  And a partridge in a pear tree,” could be heard all the way to the village and back.

“Did I mention I like a feisty woman,” said the Notary Public, as Rosa weighed into the fray.

“Ouch!  Watch out!  She’s still got that frying pan,” said Geowulf.

*     *     *

Randolph and Chris pushed open the door to the egress and fell back into the snow.  Quickly they ran around to the bed sheets.

“This time, let’s get off on the thirteenth floor,” Randolph suggested.

“But there isn’t one,” replied Chris.  So they headed back to 1403B, where they found Chevy.

“We’re not exactly sure where Irving is,” Randolph told him pointing to the thirteen beds.  “But she may be having guests.”

“I’ll track her down,” promised Chevy.  And he headed down the sheets.

“Do you think it’s safe to use the stairs,” said Chris.

“We should be all right.  We just have to be sure we don’t push that knob over there,” Randolph told him.

“That one?”

“No,” said Randolph.  “This one…oh…oh.”

When the dust settled, Randolph and Chris found themselves back in the dungeon staring eye-to-eye with Jerry again.

*     *     *

“Wouldn’t you rather use a bow and arrow?” the Notary Public asked the Indian Chief, as they fought side by side.

“Not really,” came the reply.  The Indian was battling the goblins with a wooded staff that was getting smaller and smaller.  “I’m a little afraid of them,” he admitted.  “I had an accident with one when I was little.  I didn’t realize it was loaded.”

“Ouch!” said Gary, as Gretel got him in the foot with her fireplace poker.  “Hey, King.  If you promise to let us wear shoes, I’m willing to switch sides.”

“This is our last kettle of boiling water,” the hag told Helga.  “Move it over there where we can pour it into the hall,” she said, just as Hombre on Harley came through the door.

“I just mopped that floor,” exclaimed Helga, and she pushed a knob sending the kettle, water and all, into the dungeon.

“What was that?” asked Randolph, as he and Christopher exited through the egress, again.  “There was a loud thump and then I thought I heard Jerry screaming.”  He turned to look, but the door had already slammed behind them.

“I guess we’ll never know,” said Chris.  “Look!  The front door to the castle is busted open.  What do you suppose all those people are doing with the furniture?  I don’t know about Lapland customs, but they wouldn’t have a yard sale in the middle of a storming, would they?”

“We’re here, finally!” Randolph and Chris cried as they entered the hall and jumped up on the dais that held the throne.

Rosa paused from hitting a goblin to say, “It’s about time.  You seem to miss a lot of battles.”

“Oh dear,” added Gretel.

In front of them was a bewildering scene.  One of the goblins had turned sides and was fighting against the other goblins along with the King, the Indian, and the Notary Public, while the other royal hermits were discussing the protocols of a peace treaty.  “After the King, I should be first to sign because I have the next highest rank,” insisted the Prince.  Rosa was earning more notches on her frying pan.  Village women were tearing the tapestries off the walls, while their husbands were packing vases in gunny sacks.  Irving was choking the raven, while Helga was flailing at everybody with a mop.  Walter was trying to pull a cork out of a bottle of tuna with his beak.  And the penguins were throwing people from either side of the fracas out of windows.  They were in the process of advancing on the hag, who had been chased downstairs by Hombre.

“I don’t believe this,” said Randolph, as he leaned against the knob on the throne.

When the dust settled, Randolph and Chris found themselves once again in the dungeon, but Jerry could not be seen.  In his place was a cauldron of boiling water.  Slowly spinning amidst the bubbles was an elf hat.

They reentered the hall just as the penguins finished tossing the hag.  Geowulf shouted, “Stop fighting!  The Snow Queen’s gone.  Long live King Robin!”

“Just in time,” said the Indian Chief, as he waved the tooth pick he was left fighting with.

Llywarch and Ekaraj came out of the library, each holding a language dictionary.  Because of his sore nose, Ekaraj held a smaller one.

The Laplander mayor called a quick counsel of his city officials.  “If we sign that peace treaty, and let you come back as King,” he said to Robin.  “You have to promise not to kill any more wives.”

“Nevermore,” croaked Polly, before flying out a window after the missing hag.

“Got it,” said Walter, as tuna spilt onto the floor.

“I never killed the last one,” Robin replied through gritted teeth.

“Sure!  Sure!” said the mayor.  “You hold him to that,” he told Rosa.

“Wait a minute,” said Christopher.  “That’s my fiancee!’

“What?” said Rosa.

“I have her scarf,” said the Notary Public.

“Say.  I’m having a hard time reading with this double vision.  But it looks like this book is overdue,” exclaimed Ekaraj, in horror.

“That’s nothing,” said Llywarch.  “In Budapest, I’m wanted for tearing tags off rugs.”

Helga came up from the dungeon hauling the kettle.  She stopped and pulled the hat out, hanging it on a rack.  She was so excited that she did not notice the spilled tuna, which Walter tried to hide by roosting on it.  “Boy!  Do I have a treat for dinner.  Stick around everybody.”

“Er…We’ve got to go,” said the villagers, grabbing up the last bits of furnishings before they left.

“We've just eaten,” said the travelers, as their stomach rumbled.

“You don’t have any nuts, do you?” asked Llywarch.

“I make it a point never to eat anyone I know on a first name basis,” said Geowulf.  “But then…I think Jerry was an alias.”  And the goblins followed Helga into the kitchen.

Chevy came running into the hall.  “Hurry!  I’ve found her tracks.  They’re headed to the village.  We’ve got to save her.  They might harm her.”

He was encircled by a rowdy group of town’s folk brandishing pitchforks, hoes, and shovels, plus one partially burnt broom.

“Bring the torches,” one of them shouted.  “At last we have a monster.”

“That’s no monster.  That’s my fiance.”

“What?” said Robin and Chevy together.

 “Papa, Chevy and I want to get married,” Irving told the King.

“She wants to marry the monster,” said a villager.  “We should never have trusted her.”

“Rosa and I want to get married too,” said the Prince.

“But Rosa’s going to marry me,” insisted the Count and the Marquis at the same time.

“Marry me, and I’ll love you knight and day,” the knight insisted.  “Hey!  Watch that pan!”

“I have the biggest teepee in the forest,” the Indian Chief told her.

“I can authenticate your documents for free,” offered the Notary Public by way of inducement.

“That sound’s tempting,” admitted Rosa.

“Wait a minute,” said Chris.  “I’m the one you can understand by heart.  Give me that scarf.”  And he yanked it off of the Notary Public’s neck.

“Arg!” said the public official.

“I insist that you go outside of Uncle Larry’s range and see if you can understand anybody but me.”

“You’re too young to get married,” Robin Hood told his daughter.  “Besides, I always wanted you to marry a professional man.”

“Isn’t being a monster a profession?” asked the bewildered villagers.

“But Chevy’s going to be a wizard,” said Irving.

“Is there a college for that?”

“Wait a minute,” said the Notary Public.  “Princess Georgette is a brunette, too.  We should get a chance to marry her.”

“I wish there was someway to handle this fairly,” responded the King.

WHOOSH!

There was flash of lightning, a cloud of smoke, and the roar of thunder and they were all in the center of the Laplander village before two hills of ice, with Irving sitting on top of one, while Rosa sat on top the other.  And they were both holding three golden apples.