Once upon a time, a long time ago, in a far-off land when wishing still helped one - there lived three sisters who married three men and had twelve children each, nine of whom married and had seven children themselves. The youngest of this particular families seven children was the most beautiful, wise, kind and dull character you can imagine. She went on to get kidnapped by a witch and sold off to some distant king’s shape-shifting son in return for a golden teapot or something. Anyway, they lived next door to Tig and his mother, who was a widow, and they were poor and unhealthy for they struggled to run their farm with only two sets of hands – and the economy was bad and society didn’t run in their favour.
Tig was skin and bones, but struggled through as much of the farm labour as he could, for his mother was overweight and had arthritis in her feet and a bad back. He fed the chickens, cleaned out the stables, milked the cow, tended the crops, and generally tried to stop the farm from growing into the one-room cottage they called their home. One day, Tig had finished feeding the chickens and clearing out the stables and was on his way to milk the cow, when he found that he was no longer able to milk the cow. Largely due to the fact that the cow was missing, and the fence was broken open.
“You useless waste of space!” Cried his mother when Tig told her the news. “What’s the point of feeding you if you can’t even keep the cows inside! Go out and find him! And if you fail I never want to see you again! And you should drown yourself in the marshes in shame.”
So Tig went forth to find his cow. Who was called Bert, but his mother had never bothered to learn his name. He travelled into the village and asked everyone at the market stalls. To them, one cow looked very much like the other and couldn’t point him in the direction of Bert. A few of them did try and sell Tig different cows, one of which was just a barrel covered in a rug with a smiley face painted onto the side. Tig couldn’t afford a new cow, and now Bert was missing he was beginning to realise how much more of a pet and friend he had been to him rather than mere livestock.
Unsuccessful in the town, Tig had no other choice but to search in the other direction – deep into the vast and unforgiving wilderness of the forest. The trees towered above him, the bark dark, the shadow of the leaves full, it didn’t take long for the day to feel like night as Tig crept along the path. He jumped at every snap, every rustle and bustle, every snicker-snack, each leaf that fell and bird that sang, he almost had a heart attack when a deer went galumphing past. Bert the cow was seeming less and less worth the journey with every cuckoo and swish-sway. But on he went, along the lane that was no place for a farm boy.
Just when a bird took off too suddenly from a nearby tree and Tig was ready to soil his pants and run back home, he heard voices up ahead. He was frozen where he stood, silently praying that he wasn’t about to be mauled to death by a group of bandits. What he heard was a conversation that was probably as far away from something bandits would discuss as possible.
“Erm…your majesty…we really should be going…”
“Nonsense!” Boomed someone who seemed completely ignorant to the fact that they were in a dangerous forest. “Why we must send for a second carriage to cart this fine specimen back to the castle!”
“Sir…” The second, shakier voice replied. “It’s a cow.”
There was a roaring chuckle that rolled from a large belly.
“Oh, you ignorant servant folk do make me laugh. This is no ordinary cow. It is the Almighty Gold-Shitting Cow of Wonder! I’ve heard tales of it since I was a boy! I must have it! It expels gold, Billie, Gold.”
“It’s Boyrahn, sir.” The quieter of the two said, sounding very much like he wanted to ask how he could possibly know that the cow made gold.
Meanwhile, Tig had a frog in his throat. The only reason a cow would be in this forest was because Bert had escaped, and Tig knew for certain that Bert did not, in fact, shit gold. It was also fairly obvious that it was the King who had taken a sudden liking to the cow. Tig swallowed every instinct telling him not too, and turned the corner - shaking more than the leaves in the wind.
“Your majesty…if I may…” Tig squeaked. It was so high pitched and quiet it was a wonder the two men outside their carriage heard him. The carriage was large and bejewelled, it looked like solid gold already, so there was no reason for King Joolloot to want a cow that crapped out anymore. Especially considering that his belt and rings and crown were equally as encrusted with the stuff. Tig had never seen the king before, but his reputation proceeded him. He was a large man, almost as large as the carriage itself, with a big auburn beard and hair that had more gold woven into it. His robes were rich and colourful. His thick eyebrows fell harsh over eyes that twinkled, an odd mix of intimidating and trustworthy that generally led to him performing well in his leadership polls.
“Who’s this lad, then?” The King bellowed. Animals fled from the trees, Boyrahn flinched. Tig glanced between King Joolloot and Bert the cow.
“Forgive me, your majesty,” Tig said in the same high and terrified voice as before. “But I do believe that’s my cow, Bert.”
King Joolloot glanced between Tig and the Cow.
“Well congratulations, lad! You have the honour of giving me your cow. For it is the Almighty Gold-Shitting Cow of Wonder!”
“But…” Tig glanced at Boyrahn who looked back at him with a consoling look that said he had to put up with this all the time. Tig continued. “I know this cow, sir, and I know for certain he does not shit gold.”
“Nonsense!” The king dismissed. “I would know The Almighty Gold-Shitting Cow of Wonder anywhere!”
“If I may sire,” Boyrahn offered. “What does the… Almighty Gold-Shitting Cow of Wonder look like? How can you be sure?”
King Joolloot looked like he’d been in the company of idiot peasants for too long.
“The Almighty Gold-Shitting Cow of Wonder looks exactly like this! White with black spots. Beady little eyes and floppy ears.”
“But that is most cows sire.” Tig said.
“Nonsense!” The Kind boomed.
Thankfully, that was the moment Bert decided to relieve himself.
“Look! Look! He doesn’t shit gold at all, sire. Bert is but a regular cow, and if I don’t take him home my mother will have me drowned.”
“Nonse-” The King started, but then caught sight and whiff of the cows distinctly non-golden turds and his face fell. “What betrayal! The Almighty Gold-Shitting Cow of Wonder is a lie! This is false advertising!”
The Kings annoyance was clear, Tig suddenly felt a lot smaller. He shrunk another few inches when Joolloot’s attention went to him now his prize was lost.
“You saved me from a scam, young peasant lad! As a sign of my gratitude, I will not slaughter the beast and your family may keep the cow!”
“Thank you, si-” Tig started, a flood of relief rolling through his body. But the King wasn’t done, and his peace was interrupted and destroyed.
“And you will have the honour of being enrolled in my service! We need a new Monster-Librarian! The Last one was blown to smithereens.”
King Joolloot sounded ecstatic about the circumstances and climbed back into his carriage without further ado. Clearly, he’d gotten over the loss of the Almighty Gold-Shitting Cow of Wonder.
“…Monster-Librarian?” Tig asked. Boyrahn looked like he was already dead.
“You just have to fight the creatures the knight's catch and record their behaviour.” He looked back at the carriage and hurried over to him, pulling a book from his satchel. It was brown and beaten and had an alarming amount of burnt patches. The charred title read Monster 101. “I just buried Florin while the King was feeding the Ducks. If you can’t write, I’ll scribe for you, but we must take your cow home and bring you to the castle.”
To say Tig was terrified of a new position that would likely kill him in the first week was an understatement. But there was no denying the King his orders. Especially when he was acting as if Tig should be grateful. Then again…he’d be living in a palace, where there was food and warm fires. In this world, this was the best fate a peasant could ask for. Tig beamed and climbed on the carriage with Boyrahn.
Tig’s mother slaughtered Bert the cow after three days and sold whatever meat she didn’t eat for profit. The King quickly forgot about Bert the Cow and found a Goose that he kept in the courts, eagerly awaiting the first golden egg it would lay. Boyrahn promptly hid the regular eggs it laid to keep the king distracted. Tig was given a rock-hard bed, but it was the first bed he’d ever had so he was delighted. The bed was in a damp and dark room, but it was warmer than home and the first time he’d ever had a room to himself. Not to mention three whole meals a day. This arrangement truly was a blessing. He was so grateful he could almost ignore the roars and screeches from the Monster stables on the other side of the castle’s walls.
TO BE CONTINUED.
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