King Ardor
and his nights on the more-or-less elliptical table

by Bibliophage

There was once on the ancient island of Banba (which the rest of us call Ireland), a great king named Ardor, who ever and anon took gravest offense at being mistaken for or compared with . . . well, you know, that other king, the one from merely old England. Now, Ardor was the doting husband of Queen Whenever, who is not to be confused with that other queen. And they presided over the magical palace of Came-a-lot. Whenever certainly did but Ardor did not, for Whenever's full name was “Whenever, Wherever, and Whomever Withal.” On the other hand, Ardor spent most of his nights alone on his famous more-or-less elliptical table, which was the one Where not included in Whenever's Wherever, and Ardor was just about the only Whom not included in her Whomever, at least not since their wedding night. Whenever was the only woman in Came-a-lot, having long since scared off all the competition.

Whenever's favorite Whom was the errant and gallant knight Joustalot, who lived up to his name by regularly knocking about and being knocked about by his friends, who are known to history as the Joyous Guards. Thus he took a fair number of smarting blows to the skull, but his was a very thick one so little damage was done.

One day Ardor called a meeting of his several knights, who numbered five. “Hear ye, hear ye,” he rasped in a feeble voice.

“What?” asked Sir Gallophard.

“Hear ye, hear ye!” he shouted.

“Yuh, now we can,” Sir Joustalot said.

“Good. Today I charge you all with the quest to recover . . . Yes! None other than the Banban Bonbonnerie!”

“Not,” said Sir Ell, “the . . . Banban Bonbonnerie!”

“Yes,” said Ardor, “the . . . Banban Bonbonnerie.”

A tense hush fell upon the gathering. After several moments Sir Joustalot broke the silence. “Daah, wuzzat?” he asked slowly.

“The Banban Bonbonnerie,” said Sir Jay, Ell's older brother. “It is the dish from which the first missionary tried to serve bonbons to the pagan Banbans just before they killed him. It is a powerful relic.”

“Oh,” Joustalot said. “So, ah, where's it at?”

“No vun nowss,” admitted Zir Goot sadly. Hailing from Germany, he was the only foreign knight present.

“It fell into pagan hands and hasn't been seen since,” Ell concluded.

“I charge you,” Ardor boomed, “with finding the Bonbonnerie and bringing it here to Came-a-lot. It will be a dangerous mission and I expect I may never see some of you alive again. So go forth and Godspeed!”

The crowd dispersed and the search was on.

Later, in the confessional, Ardor admitted that his motives were less than godly.

“I'm sending men to their death just to get my hands on the Bonbonnerie.”

“But, my son, it is a holy quest,” the confessor said. “With it, all things are possible. The pagans can be converted, evil cast down, the sick healed.”

“But I don't want it for any of that. I've heard its possessor can gain the love of a woman.”

“Ah, but you are the king. You can have any woman that you want. Not that I would suggest . . .”

“There's only one woman I want: my wife. But she won't let me sleep with her.”

“Really? Even I've sle-- I mean, even I've slipped from the path of righteousness on occasion.”

“What does that have to do with it?” the puzzled king asked.

“Nothing at all. Just forget I said anything. So you would send men to their death for the sake of a woman. You are in the company of such greats as Menelaus, Agamemnon, and Paris. Does that make you feel any better?”

“No, not really.”

“But why do you have to go, Joust?” The queen was feeling peevish this day. Actually, she felt peevish most days, but especially so this day.

“Ard said ta, When. I gotta. He's the king, you know.”

“I suppose if he told you to go jump in a lake, you would do that too.”

“Ya mean again? Sher. Wouldn't you?” Whenever rolled her eyes skyward. “It's okay, When,” Joustalot continued. “I'm gonna leave the Joyous Guards behind ta protect ya.”

“Don't, Joust. They make me nervous. They're not like other men.” They were not whoms and never showed any inclination to become such. She shivered uncontrollably. “Take them with you.”

“Duh, okay. If you say so.”

“I do. Now, tell me what you were doing all morning. I missed you terribly,” she said with a little pout that always made Joustalot feel terribly guilty.

“Well, the Joyous Guards and me, we went shooting at the butts as soon as we got up.”

“You what?! Oh, you mean shooting arrows at targets. Go on.”

“Then we got on our horsies and paraded around town with those pretty little triangular flags--”

“Pennants.”

“Yuh. That was fun. Then we went to the meeting when Ard told us to go look for the Bon, the Bonbonner . . .”

“Bonbonnerie.”

“Yuh, that's it.”

“And you actually said you'd go.”

“Yuh.” Whenever sighed deeply. Joustalot knew she only did that when she was very disappointed and really peeved with him, and he was worried she might really be mad. “What's wrong?” Whenever did not respond. “When? When?”

“Now, Joust. Right now.” There was only one way to cure Whenever of peevishness, but it was only a temporary--very temporary--treatment.

Considering the grave danger involved in seeking the Bonbonnerie, it is a wonder that any of the knights dared set out on the quest. Let us follow the adventures of some of the more famous of them.

A few days outside of Came-a-lot Sirs Jay and Ell heard that the Bonbonnerie was in the treasure-trove of a marauding dragon in the West of Banba. They immediately set out with all due speed and on the third day reached the east coast. From there they took ship to England and went to pay a visit on their brother, who lived at that other place with that other king. There they hoped to find further news of the Bonbonnerie, but were disappointed. They remained there several years until they were invited to leave.

Zir Goot limited his search to public houses on the assumption that no one would dare be caught with a bonbonnerie in Banba unless he were dead drunk. His search was unsuccessful.

Sir Gallophard suffered his most harrowing adventure before he even left the palace. You see, Gallophard never really fit in at Came-a-lot, since he never did. I don't mean he never came a lot, I mean he never came at all. Never. But as he was saddling his horse in the stable, Whenever accosted him and offered once again to make him a whom. And again he refused, but not for lack of wanting. He was a very uptight man, as you could tell from the way he walked as if he were afraid his ass might break at any moment.

“Milady, methinks thou art mistook.” (Gallophard always insisted on speaking an English dialect several centuries out of place compared to the Celtic dialect spoken by everyone else.) “Wot thou not I wit thou art wedded to mine own king? Would that thou wouldst wit as well.” With that he galloped away hard.

Gallophard traveled many days and many nights, and being the most gallant of Ardor's knights did not flinch at danger. In fact he embraced it, having very little to live for. The dragon that Ell and Jay had heard of was promptly dispatched by the great hero, but the treasure-trove contained no Bonbonnerie, only gold and silver. This he distributed to local orphans, widows, and nuns.

Later he came to a beautiful castle with no one about. He cried, “Who heareth me?”

At that instant a beautiful woman appeared atop the wall and said, “I do.”

“How hight thou this place? And how hight thou thyself?”

“This is the Castle of Maidens, and my name is Isabelle.”

“Hast thou harken of the Banban Bonbonnerie?”

“I know where it is. If you’ll come inside, I’ll show it to you.”

The drawbridge was lowered and Gallophard began to cross. But at that moment Joustalot, followed by the Joyous Guards, came crashing out of the woods and yelled, “Fool! Don't go in!”

Gallophard was taken aback, not accustomed to being accosted thus. “Thou hight me a fool? Thou?”

“Yuh. This is the Castle of Maidens,” Joustalot explained. “If ya go in, ya can never come out again.”

“That's right,” Ardor said, coming down the road from the other direction. “They would keep you as a sex slave forever.”

“But methinks they wot whither hath the Bonbonnerie wandered. If I won't, I wot I will wish I had.” With that he disappeared into the castle.

Joustalot and Ardor spent several minutes bemoaning the fate of their friend and comrade. Then Gallophard, uncustomarily naked, appeared atop the castle wall accompanied by a half dozen lovely young ladies in various states of dishabille. “I have it,” he cried with glee. “I have the Bonbonnerie.” He threw it down to them and Joustalot caught it.

“Wonderful!” Ardor exclaimed. “Where was it?”

“It was up my fundament. These delightful ladies were kind enough to extract it. I feel so much better now.” Joustalot set it down on the ground and wiped is hands on his armor.

“Are you guys coming up?” Gallophard asked.

“Goodness, no,” Ardor said. We'd be sex slaves forever.”

“And that's a bad thing exactly how?” Gallophard asked.

Ardor looked at Joustalot, Joustalot looked at Ardor, they both looked at Gallophard. They started over the drawbridge, leaving the Joyous Guards behind. But when they saw Whenever riding up behind them at full speed, they ran inside as fast as they could. They had scarcely joined Gallophard atop the wall when Whenever screamed.

“It's the Castle of Maidens! Ardor! You come out of there right this minute. You too Joust! Now!”

“No, dear, I'm afraid we can't,” Ardor told his wife. “We're trapped here forever. But you have the Bonbonnerie.”

“It is rather a nice one, isn't it?” she remarked, picking it up off the ground. “But there aren't any bonbons.”

Ardor spoke a few words to one of the attentive maidens. Moments later he threw down a box of bonbons to Whenever. She arrayed them in the Bonbonnerie and admired them. “But who shall be my whom now?” she pouted.

The Joyous Guards were the only men about. Whenever shivered uncontrollably. “Well,” she said, daintily picking up one of the bonbons from the Bonbonnerie, “at least my horse isn't a gelding.”

And so she ate it.