The Doll Master
Short Story
by Stephen Collicoat
'Enough!' the King groaned in exasperation. He glared down the table at
his seated courtiers. 'What fool would call this entertainment?' He
addressed a knight across the table. 'Have you found this evening
entertaining, Sir Roderick?'
'No, Your Majesty,' the young man gulped, 'In truth, it's been
exceedingly dull.'
'Then why were you laughing a moment ago? Pray tell us what you found
witty.'
The expressions of the court changed immediately from feigned amusement
to expressions of exaggerated weariness. One courtier essayed a yawn,
but thought better of it, collapsing into a fit of coughing. The King's
eye lit speculatively on the coughing man then passed on.
'Rubbish,' King Gerhardt decided. 'Tell me Chamberlain,' he addressed
the man hovering beside his chair. 'Have we a law making it an offense
to waste a monarch's time?'
'No, Your Majesty,' the Chamberlain said hurriedly. 'But such a law
could be passed tonight.'
'Forget it,' Gerhardt said bitterly. 'If boring a royal person was a
crime, each of you tonight would rest your head on a block, rather than a
pillow.
'Remove them all,' he waved imperiously at the motley group of
entertainers: tumblers, wrestlers, a fire-eater, a sword-swallower, a dog
balancing a ball on its nose and a small, sad-eyed monkey riding a unicycle.
'Keep them far from me,' Gerhardt warned his chamberlain. 'If I see any
of these dullards again, whoever's responsible will be flayed alive.'
The court shuddered. Each man or woman knew they were in danger from
the increasingly irrational tyrant. Only the smallest step lay between
black threats and brutal action.
It was not always thus. Eighteen years before when Gerhardt succeeded
his father to the throne, he was a happy, handsome prince filled with
energy and fine intentions. True, he wasted much of his time hunting,
drinking and whoring but both the court and the kingdom had warmed to the
charming young man. Noone was sure what had changed, but many blamed
the Queen: a sour and disappointed woman whom Gerhardt had married to
form an alliance with a powerful neighbor. The Queen had dutifully
produced heirs - a boy and girl - but they were spoilt, whining brats who at
best irritated their father.
Over the years, Gerhardt had lost both his youth and figure. He had
become sullen, bitter and, unless a diversion was found, cruel. Already
scores of peasants had been savagely punished for mild disdeamours. One
man having failed to raise his cap to his monarch when Gerhardt passed
had it nailed to his skull. Dark whispers had begun to circulate about
the King's late night visits to the dungeons and torture chamber.
'Well, is that all?' Gerhardt demanded of the wretched chamberlain. 'No
further entertainment? So how are we expected to spend the rest of this
evening?'
'There is one more person,' the Chamberlain said, not daring to use the
description of entertainer. 'Perhaps your Highness may care to see.'
'Perhaps. What does this person do?'
'I haven't seen the performance, Sire. He tells me he is a Doll
Master.'
'A Doll...' The King was thunderstruck. 'Dolls? You expect your king to
play with dolls? Have you lost your reason?' He beckoned two guards
across. 'Throw the Chamberlain in the dungeon. He'll provide my diversion
tonight.'
'Sire,' the Chamberlain begged, his voice rising with fear. 'The man is
at the door, but say the word and I'll have him thrown into the
courtyard'
'Do that, but not before he's stripped naked and his flesh cut to
ribbons with a whip,' Gerhardt paused, 'No wait, have him brought in. We may
yet draw some merriment from this fool.'
A tall, thin man dressed in dark clothes was brought to the King. He
carried, under one arm, a large wooden box.
'What's your name, fellow?' Gerhardt demanded.
'Fingrubel, Your Highness.'
'You have a foreign look. Are you from our Kingdom?'
'No Sire, from a land far from here. You would not know this place.'
'Don't presume what I know,' the King growled. 'What brings you to my
court.'
'My fortune. I have heard that anyone who entertains you will be richly
rewarded.'
'So you brought me dolls, you fool! You should have seen my children.
My daughter still plays with dolls.'
'My dolls are not for children, Your Majesty.'
'Well, get on with it,' Gerhardt grumbled. 'I take it they're in the
box you carry.'
'They are,' Fingrubel agreed, 'but first I wish to know what reward
I'll receive for showing them to you.'
The King goggled at the stranger, then burst into laughter. The court
tittered or guffawed in a nervous chorus.
'Capital!' Gerhardt slapped his thigh, tears streaming down his plump
cheeks. 'Oh very good, Mr.Doll Master. What's to prevent me having you
flung into a dungeon while I inspect your dolls?'
'Only I have the gift,' Fingrubel replied evenly.
'Gift? What gift are you talking of? Anyway, what reward have you in
mind?'
The man named a price.
'Absurd,' the King snorted, 'All that gold so that I can see some
dolls. You're mad!'
'No, Your Highness. That fee is for me to stay a week in the castle and
each night provide an hour's entertainment.'
'An hour a night? Why so short a time?'
'The dolls are small and tire easily.'
Gerhardt stared. 'You're mad, but at least I find your disordered mind
diverting. Have you always played with dolls? Did your parents dress
you as a girl when you were a child?'
The court laughed appreciatively. The Doll Master flushed, bur remained
silent.
'Mr.Doll Master,' the King continued. 'You've offered to sell your
services at a high price. I'll do better than that. If you entertain me,
I'll double your fee and have you lodged in one of the finest rooms in
the castle. You'll dine at my table each night and be my guest.'
'This is most generous, Sire.'
'But if your dolls fail to entertain me; if I feel bored for even a
moment, then I shall have you disemboweled. Then your dying body will be
strapped onto four wild horses and torn apart.'
Expecting to see Fingrubel cower in terror, Gerhardt was astonished
when the Doll Master promptly agreed to the hellish bargain.
'You're insane,' the King muttered, shaking his head in wonder. 'Don't
imagine for a moment that I don't mean what I say.'
'His Majesty is a man of his word,' the Chamberlain whispered. 'Leave
now and you may escape with only a beating.'
'I accept,' Fingrubel repeated firmly. 'May I ask that a space be
cleared on the table in front of His Majesty?'
The space cleared, he opened the box and began to set the dolls onto
the table. The King and his court bent forward in curiosity. The Doll
Master drew from his case twenty-five figures, the tallest being only
eight inches. They appeared to members or the servants of a royal court.
There was a king - a noble, old man with flowing, silver beard, his wife,
a beautiful princess, numerous knights and ladies-in-waiting, a
chamberlain, butler and serving maid.
'The detail is astonishing!' King Gerhardt said, staring hard at what
appeared to be tiny, precious jewels sewn into the Queen's cloak. 'Fetch
a magnifying glass.'
When the glass was brought, he examined each figure with care. 'The
workmanship is admirable: beyond anything I have seen. Why, the hair,
skin, fingernails, even down to the shoe buckles are incredibly realistic.'
The Chamberlain watching the figures agreed but sighed to himself.
Brilliant as they were, he couldn't imagine their uncanny workmanship
enthralling the impatient king for an hour each evening for the next seven
days.
As though responding to the Chamberlain's thoughts, Fingrubel leant
over the small figures. He murmured a soft chant, passing the long fingers
of his hand in swift gestures over the group.
The King admiring the figures through his glass started, muttered an
oath and bent over intently. At first the Chamberlain couldn't see what
intrigued his master. Then he too started, rubbed his eyes in disbelief
and also stared at the dolls. There was no mistake: the figures had
begun to move.
'Amazing!' one of Gerhardt's knights breathed.
'Witchery!' the court priest murmured, crossing himself.
'Silence!' Gerhardt bellowed, 'One of the dolls is trying to speak.'
The doll dressed as a king addressed Gerhardt in a small, clear voice.
He gave a short, pretty speech. The doll king was honored to perform
before such an illustrious court. He hoped that the simple plays he and
his troupe would perform over the next week would amuse and perhaps
inspire their audience.
Then the play began. It was set in a court and involved the traditional
cast of tyrannical king, beautiful princess, treacherous servants,
brave knights and so on. There was unrequited passion, some vigorous
swordplay, a poem and several songs from a tiny balladeer.
'Capital!' Gerhardt boomed when the play finished. The troupe flinched
at the noise, then bowed in thanks to delighted clapping. They then
waited as the Doll Master with quiet words and subtle gestures reduced
them to immobility, after which Fingrubel placed them carefully back into
his box and closed the lid.
Of all the eyes that keenly followed the performance, noone noticed and
memorized more and noone was noticed less than Gruthwender. From his
vantage point on the mantelpiece above the King, Gruthwender memorized
every gesture of the Doll Maker as he brought the figures to life and
later reduced them to immobility. His eyes saw more and his sharp ears
caught every word in the soft whisper far beyond the hearing of any human
for Gruthwender was a cat.
As Fingrubel was escorted to his new quarters, carrying his case under
one arm and a bulging purse of gold coins given to him by Gerhardt in
his other hand, Gruthwender jumped down from his observation platform
and went in search of his master.
Asgard Tunn was sleeping in the castle kitchen, his head resting on a
table. Soon, the remains of the evening's feast would be brought
downstairs and the youth would be frantically employed for hours washing pots
and scouring pans. When the kitchen was tidy again, he would enjoy a
lull while breakfast was prepared but soon would be back to his menial
tasks.
It was a dull, hard life for the 19-year old who had been sold to the
King's household staff by his parents - impoverished circus players who
had briefly passed through the kingdom during the reign of Gerhardt's
father.
Four years ago, Asgard's life began to change when he befriended a
small, starving kitten. He enticed the creature from the courtyard into the
kitchen with a bowl of milk and scraps of roasted venison from a
noble's plate.
'Another mouth to feed,' the Head Cook sneered.
'No,' Asgard said, shaking his head, 'He'll earn his keep catching rats
and mice.
The cook looked at the tiny kitten dubiously. 'We'll see,' he
decided,'but if he's no use, he's going.'
'Now, what shall I name you?' Asgard puzzled when he and the kitten
were alone.
'How about Gruthwender?' the kitten suggested. 'It's my name.'
'You can speak!' Asgard exclaimed.
Cleaning his whiskers from a stray drop of milk, the kitten sighed
contentedly. 'Good food,' he decided. 'Can you ensure I always have scraps
from the king's table? Actually, I detest the taste of mice - and as
for rats,' he gave a delicate shudder, 'Gross! Still,' he continued
philosophically, 'A job's a job. I'll clean up all the rodents in your
kitchen. He cast a critical eye around the room. 'This floor could do with a
good scrub, Asgard! After all, I have to eat off it. I can't imagine
how humans can cheerfully live in such dirt.'
'How did you learn English?' Asgard asked, to change the subject. He
was beginning to doubt a talking cat was a good idea.
'Do you see this mark?' Gruthwender asked, pointing to a small tuft of
white fur in the shape of a lightning bolt on his black chest. 'That's
the sign of a feline who talks. But please don't tell anybody. My
mother and father could talk as well and were familiars to a witch. One day,
the authorities sewed the witch, my parents and all my brothers and
sisters into a sack loaded with heavy stones. Then they threw the sack
into a river. I would have drowned as well if they caught me, but I ran
away to end up here.
'Your conversational skills will always be our secret,' Asgard
promised, 'providing you agree to keep any comments about hygiene to yourself.'
Gruthwender examined the youth through shrewd green eyes. 'Agreed! You
know, I think we'll become great friends.'
And so they did. Gruthwender ate all the rats and mice and in time,
filled out into a sleek, well-muscled cat.
'You deserve better than to spend your days among the pots and pans,'
the cat scolded Asgard one day, 'And frankly I'd be far happier if I
never tasted another rodent -- all those nasty teeth and matted fur! I'll
watch for an opportunity to improve your lot.'
That night, observing the Doll Master entertain the court, the cat
sensed the time had come.
Finding Asgard asleep, he jumped onto the youth's shoulder and gently
struck his face with a sheathed paw.
'But how is a boxful of animated dolls going to make our fortune?'
Asgard puzzled when the cat recounted the evening's events.
'Trust me. First, we need to take a close look at those dolls. There's
something sinister about them.'
Carrying a shaded lantern, the youth followed his friend upstairs to
the castle bedrooms. 'He'll be staying in the best guest room,'
Gruthwender said confidently. The door to the room was closed but not locked
from the inside. Asgard eased the door open and heard the reassuring sound
of lusty snoring within. The curtains had been drawn, making the room
pitch black.
'I'll go in and see where he's left the doll case,' Gruthwender
offered. After several minutes, he emerged. 'It's fine. He's deeply asleep and
I can see the case on a table. You'll need to carry the case to another
room, so we can examine the dolls.'
'How will I find my way in the dark?'
'Hold onto my tail with one hand and I'll guide you.'
Soon, they returned to the corridor, with Asgard carrying the doll
case. Further down the corridor, they found an empty bedroom and the youth
placed the case on a bed. Asgard then lit several candles and lifted
the lid of the doll case. All the figures had been carefully stored away,
frozen in motion.
'As you said, they're amazingly lifelike,' Asgard murmured. He gently
touch the cheek of the princess, 'Why, even her skin feels warm!'
'Too lifelike,' Gruthwender decided. 'I wonder if I can remember the
exact words?'
The cat then began to recite the words and mimic the gestures he had
seen Fingrubel employ hours before.
Nothing happened. He tried again, but the tiny figures didn't stir. The
cat spat curses and tried several more times without success.
'What am I doing that's wrong?' he hissed in exasperation.
'We better return the dolls,' Asgard fretted. 'The Doll Master could
wake up at any moment and find them gone.'
'One more try,' Gruthwender pleaded. He made a final, desperate
attempt.'Anything?' he asked.
'Nothing,' Asgard said, lifting the lid to replace it.
'No, wait. I think I see...There, it's working!'
As Asgard watched in fascination, each of the dolls began to wake,
several rubbing sleep from their eyes. Seeing the cat's huge face staring
down at them, several court ladies screamed with fear, while a tiny
knight drew a sword, thinner than a needle, and advanced threateningly.
'It's alright,' Asgard assured the doll king. 'Gruthwender is my friend
and yours. We're here to help.'
'Tell that monster to stand back,' the King commanded.
Gruthwender looked hurt. 'No call for insults,' he muttered, as he
withdrew.
'You look so like humans,' Asgard said admiringly.
'What else should we look like?' the King demanded.
'But how did you become so small?' Gruthwender asked.
The King and his court gasped with astonishment at the talking cat. One
lady seeing Gruthwender's mouth open to reveal long, sharp incisors
gave a muffled shriek and fainted.
'My name is King Meidor and this is my daughter, Princess Riahon. And
you are?'
Asgard and Gruthwender bowed and introduced themselves. King Meidor
then explained, 'A year ago, Fingrubel came to my court. He said he was a
teacher. Hardly had he arrived but he was asking for my daughter's hand
in marriage. Foolishly, I looked at what I thought was an impecunious
schoolmaster and laughed. I told him he was too small a person to marry
into a leading family.
'At that, he became angry and said that if I had too big a court for
him, then he would shrink it to a more comfortable size. He then cast
upon us a terrible spell that made us his mannequins. Since then,
Fingrubel has toured many lands, showing us off to make his fortune. We've
pleaded to be returned to normal size and my daughter has even offered to
marry him, but to no avail. I fear that he'll maintain his cruel revenge
until the day he dies.'
'Please,' the King pleaded, 'lift this cursed spell. Return us to human
size and I'll give you a tenth of my kingdom.'
Feeling overwhelmed, Asgard began, 'That's very...'
'A fifth and you let my master court the Princess,' Gruthwender cut in.
'But...' the King began. Gruthwender smiled widely, showing all his
sharp teeth.
'Agreed,' Meidor shuddered.
'How are we do that?' Asgard whispered to the triumphant cat. 'Neither
of us are wizards.'
'No, but I picked up some useful clues from my parents. One thing is
clear: Fingrubel must die. Only then, will his spell be broken.'
As though summoned, the door to the bedroom was thrown open and the
Doll Master stood there.
'Ah, I thought you were here when I saw the candle light,' he said
angrily. 'I woke to find thieves had stolen my dolls. He advanced into the
room.
'A kitchen boy!' he sneered, examining Asgard who shrank back from the
intruder. 'How did you imagine you could pit yourself against me?'
'He's not alone,' Gruthwender said stoutly.
'A talking cat!' Fingrubel faltered.
'You've seen this sign before?' Gruthwender pointed to the white fur on
his otherwise black chest.
'A familiar,' Fingrubel breathed.
Gruthwender, his eyes fixed on his adversary, began to chant the spell
he had heard.
'No! No!' the Doll Master screamed, but the cat continued. Fingrubel
shrank with a rush; his body telescoping. In less than 40 seconds, the
tiny figure stood trembling violently before the triumphant cat. With a
sudden leap, Gruthwender was on top of Fingrubel and a horrified Asgard
saw for a moment tiny legs frantically struggling in Gruthwender's
mouth. Then, with a single gulp, the cat swallowed the wizard.
'Yuck!' the cat exclaimed, 'Clothes taste even worse than fur.'
'But you've swallowed the only person who could bring the King and his
court back to normal size,' Asgard objected. In answer, Gruthwender
pointed a paw to the box where all the figures were now struggling for
space. One by one, they jumped on to the ground and found a space in which
to grow. The bedroom quickly filled with people, with some going into
the corridor to make room for others.
The King warmly shook Asgard's hand while the Princess impetuously
kissed the blushing Asgard. She then hugged Gruthwender who began purring
contentedly until he recalled he was a feline of dignity.
'How can we ever thank you enough?' the King cried in joy.
'By keeping your word,' Gruthwender reminded him tartly. 'The reward is
a baronetcy, wealth and acceptance of my master as a suitor to your
daughter.'
'Yes, of course,' the King agreed.
'Keep your word,' the cat warned. He had seen enough of human rulers
not to trust their word. 'If you don't, I'll shrink you back to a tiny
size. Harm either Asgard or myself and it will happen automatically.'
'Can you do that?' Asgard whispered.
'No, but it's best that he believes it.'
In the morning, King Gerhardt was astonished to find that the dolls
that had entertained him the previous evening had turned into human
guests. Despite his protestations, he was secretly relieved when Meidor
announced he would set off for his kingdom that day. No King feels
comfortable with another monarch in his realm. Gerhardt was also troubled by
reports of the feats of Asgard, the former kitchen boy and his magical
cat. When he learnt that Asgard had been ennobled as Baron Tunn and,
together with Gruthwender, would leave with the rest of Meidor's court, he
was so delighted that he gave the youth all the money he had paid
Fingrubel.
The party set out with a small number of Gerhardt's knights, ostensibly
as protection but actually to ensure that the group crossed the border.
There is much more I could relate of the many adventures that befell
the party before King Meidor triumphantly returned to his kingdom. I
could, for instance, tell how Baron Tunn slew the Blue Knight or how
Gruthwender guided the group through the horrors of The Creeping Fog.
The night however is far advanced and these tales must wait for another
time.
And so, my friends, goodnight. Goodnight.
The Doll Master© COPYRIGHT 2005 Stephen Collicoat.
Reproduction prohibited without permission from the author.
02/22/05
