52. Goose

"Do you have more geese, or is this the only one?", William asked Alfred.

"This is the only one, sir."

"And I guess you checked with other goose-owners if there was something similar happening with their geese?"

"Uhm. No. I am not much into social gatherings with people that have ordinary geese." Alfred's cheeks coloured red.

Hilda nodded. "I know what you mean. I have issues with ordinaries also. Let me check my books. I may have something I don't know about."

She walked off towards the large amount of shelves that carried even larger amounts of books and went over the titles on the backs. "Mushrooms. Nope. Dragons. Hardly. Handpupp- uhm, no." She peeked at the two men at the table, hoping they had not caught the last bit. If they had, they did not respond to it.

As Hilda went through her library, William looked at the goose a few more times. He had never really had the opportunity to look at one, so here was his chance. "Animals can be fascinating, can't they?"

"Yes," said Alfred, "very much so. I could write a book about them."

"It would be good. That way we would have a book on geese also," William grinned. It got him a strange look from Alfred who wondered if he had ended up in entirely the wrong place.

Hilda came back with a book in her hands. "This is the only thing I can find on birds. No many things goose-specific though, and nothing at all about geese with golden eggs."

"What did you find out from it?", asked William.

"Well," the wicked witch said as she looked in the book again, "the most obvious reason for a bird to stop laying eggs is that it's dead. But this one isn't."

Alfred looked at the goose on the table. It was still breathing, and waking up from Hilda's sedative. "Indeed. It isn't. And I really would like it to stay that way."

Slowly the goose sat up and looked around at the people in the room.

"How do we fix you?", Hilda asked the big bird who stared at her without a hint to a reply.

It honked at her.

"If that was meant to be insulting, you succeeded, buster." A wand appeared, ready to counter a next insult.

Alfred however had jumped up and gazed at the goose as that wiggled its tail feathers. Another honk, and it got up. Beneath it lay a golden egg.

"Suck an elf," said Hilda.

"Holy Bejeebus," William agreed.

"An egg!", said Alfred.

Hilda looked at the book. "Somehow I don't think that bringing this book over made that happen. Anyone an idea or a clue? It wasn't me, even if I would love to have done this."

William took the book and looked at the page Hilda held open. "Hmmm... it says here that geese don't lay eggs when there's snow."

"Snow? We have snow lately," said Alfred. "A while ago some weather-mage has moved into our land and he was doing all kinds of things with the weather. Now there is a lot of snow and he has a problem getting that cleared away."

Hilda grinned. "I think we have the answer. Your goose just needed to defrost its rear end so now the eggs can come out again."

Alfred Esop was so amazingly relieved that his goose lay its golden eggs again that he completely forgot himself and hugged Hilda tightly for a moment. "Thank you, thank you ever so much!"

"Uhm, yeah, I guess that's okay. So you're fine now?" Hilda stepped closer to William to avoid another hugging. Hugging was good, but she would be the one to take the initiative. Not some stray goose-holder. Even if the goose lay golden eggs.

"Say, Alfred, do golden eggs make good omelets?", Hilda asked.

Alfred, his goose in his arms already, looked puzzled. "I really wouldn't know. I've never tried that. I just sell the eggs." He looked at the golden egg that lay on the table still. "You can have that one. For curing the goose."

"Well, I didn't actually - uhm - but okay. Thank you for that."

They showed Alfred out, and as the man was walking away to the forest path that led to the village, they heard the goose honk a few more times. Apparently there was a line of eggs waiting to be unleashed.

The magical couple grinned, as they tried to imagine how Alfred was going to handle the goose and the eggs it would lay on the way to the village.

"Do you want a golden omelet?", Hilda then asked. "I am curious what that will turn into."

"Sure, why not? Let's crack it and see."

They repaired to the kitchen together. William wanted to witness this as much as Hilda, but he left the honour of breaking the egg to her.

The skillet hovered over the fire. Hilda had tossed a lick of butter in it and a wooden spoon slowly stirred it around. She held the egg in both hands and cracked the shell on the side of the frying pan. It broke as one might expect of an egg. Its contents slid into the hot melted butter and spread out over the metal. That was not all that spread. As the innards of the golden egg moved around, a horrendous sulphur based smell spread throughout the kitchen, making both Hilda and William pull funny faces and say "eeew". Despite this disappointment they kept watching the skillet. The egg was slowly colouring. Brownish black.

"I'd say there is something that smells bad about this egg," Hilda commented.

"Yes, and it lacks things in the looks department also..."

Hilda took the pan and poked at the solid layer at the bottom with the wooden spoon. It sounded suspiciously like some kind of stone. "Care for an omelet with a crunch?", she asked William.

"Not really...", William said.

"Smart man. I thought so too." She flipped up her wand and a moment later the pan was good as new. And empty. "We'll find something else for lunch."

Later that day they also noticed that the golden shell, once cracked, became some kind of ugly lead-coloured gunk. William wrapped it in a piece of paper and discarded it. "So much for golden eggs. Nothing good comes from that."

They had decided to take the afternoon off. No going anywhere, just sit in the sunshine and do a whole lot of nothing.

The couple was doing a mighty fine job of that when the peace and quiet was rudely disturbed by a horseman that came racing up to them and stopping his speedy journey in a cloud of dust as he forced his horse to a halt.

"Honourable witch and wizard," the man said as he jumped off his steed, "I have a message from the king."

"Oy, no arrows?", William asked, looking up from his sunbed.

Hilda laughed, then turned to the rider. "What is it the king wants of us?"

He handed her a large scroll. "This is for you, he said. And it is important. And if possible, I have to wait for your answer."

Hilda raised her eyebrows. "Then it is really urgent." She checked the seal, as even a witch can't be too careful, then tore it off and looked at the message. "Crappedy crap."

William sat up. That sound meant problems. "What's up?"

"King Herald asked Walt for our extradition."

"He what?"

"It seems that we have offended a diplomatic blah-blah official of his court. Lamador's been crying, it seems. Which surprises me, as he usually handles his own affairs." Hilda rolled up the paper. "Looks like we have to go see Walt about this. He's only doing his duty, so we'd best help him."

"I understand." William started to get up.

Hilda was on her feet already and said to the rider that they would arrive at the castle as soon as they could. The man nodded, got on his horse and raced off again. "Show-off," she muttered and flattened the cloud of dust he left behind him. "No need to hurry, William, we should give him some time to deliver the message."

Grinning, they went into the house and changed into clothes that looked more official and up to their status. A visit to the king warranted that.

They had a cup of tea and then got on their brooms and headed for the castle. Hilda did not feel like messing with the guards, so they simply landed their brooms in front of the large fountain and waited there. They had been seen, as usual, so someone would come and pick them up.

A group of guards approached the magical couple. "Uhm, honourable witch, would you please come with us? You too, honourable wizard?"

"Sure, lead on and we'll follow," said Hilda.

They were taken through the long corridors of the castle until they reached a cozy little salon. It was painted all white, the floor was made of white and grey marble and had large, probably handmade red carpets on it. There were a few small paintings on the far wall, with images of lakes. A small white table carrying a colourful vase with white flowers stood in each corner.

Walt was standing in front of a window, hands on his back, staring outside. The leader of the guards announced their arrival, after which the king turned and smiled.

"Welcome, Grimhilda and William, please sit down. Can I offer you something?" He waved at some chairs, and sat down himself.

William asked for tea, as did Hilda, which was arranged speedily. Walt sipped a glass of orange juice.

"I guess you saw the note, right?" King Walt did not look happy. "I'm not sure what you did, though. Can you explain something about this?"

Hilda and William told him about the challenge, and the way they had taken their revenge by challenging Lamador in return.

"Right, I can see what made you do that. And I like the way you folks think. Really." Walt toasted them with his orange juice. "But it looks like you angered someone in a very intense manner. And Herald asked me to send you over so you can be punished for that. That's the part I don't really like so much."

"Nor do we, King", said Hilda. "Punished? Just because we did something he was not prepared for? That is a low trick."

William agreed. "I would first want to see evidence of this, and if possible hear some witnesses or so."

Hilda and Walt looked at the former book salesman.

"What are you talking about, William? We have to go there and tell them Lamador's lying through his teeth." Hilda shook her head. "Sorry, King, he sometimes has these moments of not making any sense at all."

"Then what is the plan? Go there, walk into the lion's den and be eaten?" William got up and paced the room.

"William, sit down. I will explain this to you later," said Hilda.

King Walt looked at the witch. It sounded odd to him that a wizard would not know how things were done in the magical world. But then, he thought to himself, this wizard was strange in more than one way, so probably things were done differently where he came from. The witch would iron it out.

William sat down. "Okay. I'll leave it to you. For now."

King Walt looked relieved. "So, you will go there? Should I send an escort of guards with you to make a bigger impression? You know I value you and I don't want anyone to think differently."

Hilda thought about that offer. "That might be a good idea. We can travel slow then and think about things on the way. Yes, thank you for that, king."

"Very good. Would a group of twenty-four be enough?" King Walt sometimes liked to deal with things pragmatically and swiftly.

"That many? Would look good though..." Hilda grinned.

William had a very undetermined feeling about all of that. Going to Lamador and his king over some dumb accusation, with a bunch of guards that probably were useless against any halfway decent witch or wizard? He wondered if he would ever understand this world.

Hilda and Walt talked about the arrangements of when they were going to go to king Herald's country and how the transport would be arranged. There would be luxury carriages, plenty of food and water, and Walt would make sure they had all the necessary letters of reference with them to assure a free and safe passage through all the lands they had to cross.

After dealing with all that, the two magical people were escorted to the main entrance again. Not because they were considered dangerous, but it would prevent them from getting lost. Walt walked along with them.

"I'll miss you while you are gone," he said, "it is very entertaining to try and hit you with my fountain. So if only for that, I hope you will return soon."

"It won't be us that will delay our return, king," said Hilda. "In three days we'll be here and leave with the guards. No telling what will happen from there on, but we will just hope for the best."

Walt nodded and insisted on shaking their hands, something he would not do in a normal situation. "Take good care," he said. Then he watched as they got on their brooms and flew off towards their house. "Remarkable people," he mumbled to himself. "Very remarkable people."