Where There’re Some Spokes, There’s a Way… Just Don’t Feel No Way

A Rupununi Medieval Parody

The Sir Steadfast and the Lady Serene embark upon a tireless trek from the Kingdom of Yups to the Land of Wowetta in hopes of winning glory for all. The two were out in pursuit of delivering the power of books to those in need, and in the preliminary inspection for a healthy literacy environment, the results were positive. Plans were made to further the endeavours – all parties involved were fresh with vigor and would donate what they were able. The two left, ready to return home from the brief trip, feeling pleased at the personable relations established.

Little did they know the Tiresome Fates dastardly devised countless trials and tribulations to foil their plans of a triumphant journey home.

The trek’s troubles began with the slipping of the chain on their noble steed, La Noche. Clicks and thunks arose, the steed slowed and stopped and was attended to with patient tugs, adjustments and steady hands. Onward. Kick, start, mount and “beat out one time” – ‘nuff times. Our heroes persisted. Onward. But alas, one click and thunk too many, and the journey had to be continued at a cautious rate. “We won’t return triumphant by sundown,” Sir Steadfast admits. Compromising speed does not appease, and the Fates decide to significantly hinder travel by dealing a fatal blow to the back wheel. “Onward we traverse!” cried Steadfast. “Though ‘tis but a pace as swift as molasses, the quest to reach home is still here, and we will conquer that which we are able.” So with dreams of home and its comforts put on hold, the two trudge forth. They make it to a nearby fortress, Toka, relieved to meet other villagers who can provide assistance. Domiciles approached, inquisitions called forth. They are told of someone who could be of service, a magician of sorts. Darkness falls. Patiently, in silence, the two wait for the talked about mechanical magician.

Mosquitoes. Dirt roads. Silence. Can the Sir Steadfast find a replacement part for La Noche? The wiring wizard comes, plans change. In place of a new part, the broken one will be partially repaired. Kind villagers offer tokens of food and assistance. Lady and Sir had not dined all day, nor had they slept well the night before. Silence, waiting. Our heroes depart Toka by 21:21, an estimated 3 hours yet to be traversed, at the molasses-like pace that is imperatively maintained. Fighting fatigue, the two plod on, precariously perched on La Noche, fearful to not make the slightest motion that might upend her. After some time, a pause on the road for a stretch and brief repose. Helmet armour juggled, roguish mosquitoes attacked, stars and moon appreciated. Making ready the steed once more, Sir tugs, turns, shakes, and waiting patiently, Lady mounts when departure is nigh. The two were bludgered! Instead of being made ready, La Noche seems to have reached her demise.

What will happen to Sir and Lady? Will they be cowed by the Fates, mortared into submission? Will Steadfast forgo his noble quest? Will Serene turn into a feckless wench? Read on, as our champions begin their true test of nobility.

Waiting on the road, silence, listening for the melodious sound of cavalry, Steadfast and Serene keep high spirits, speaking in jest and weighing the alternatives. Shall they wait for an unsure corps of cavalry pon the karna? Shall they trudge on, afoot, pushing the crippled Noche up so, ‘til the next nearest fortress, four miles away? “Well, something must be done,” Serene reasons. Desperate times had NOT addled her senses, she accepted her Fate, though be it begrudgingly.

They start off, walking. Cavalry! A bright light, a whirring sound… it passes without word. Bollocks. Downcast, the two continue. More calvalry! They stop! Steadfast assumes the authoritative position and requests his cavalry carries him to the closest fortress, Mertizero, while the Serene stays back with the rescuer’s partner. Wary, weary and resigned, she converses with the partner who boasts of his feats, talks of elopements to a far away land and notes desired qualities of a Future Domestic Dame. Lady remains politely, though distantly uninterested (the partner smelled heavily of mead). Meanwhile, Steadfast goes with the obliging comrade, using field knowledge and the act of persuasion to find and borrow a replacement for the fallen steed. He returns, triumphant to the karna of marooning. But the remedy is not so easy, fuel must be transferred from the fallen to the replacement, not such an easy endeavour. Many moments of night are spent at this transaction.

And then – how to take La Noche to the grounds of Mertizero for safe storage? It is decided the Lady will soldier on ahead, alone, on the fresh steed, as the Sir will manage, somehow, to bring the fallen one to the same fortress. New to the art of riding, Serene fiercely accepts the challenge and sets forth, the path bumpy and strange, the steed different, slightly weathered and its secrets of dominating not fully unlocked. For several miles, the Lady rides, alert and in control. It is a test of competency she is keen to master. She is victorious! As she waits for her comrade she can’t help but slumber slight, unawares of the tribulations Steadfast is facing: he must push, not ride, La Noche all those steps the Lady exhilaratingly passed. The task is great, but the warrior, true.

They rendezvous and make ready to begin the last leg of their journey however, when Steadfast wisely checks the status of the loaner, he discovers it, too, is afflicted with the same malady that had fell La Noche! Oh, woe unto them! How can such persevering champions be dealt with such strife?! “We will yet reach, worry not,” Steadfast humbly proclaims. Continue they do, with the same molasses-like gait and care as before all hopes of smooth sailing from this point on a dashed dream. The hour approaches 3 in the morn, and languor is such a heavy burden. The lady attempts, futilely, to keep herself and therefore her rider alert –she talks of riddles and foibles, to little avail. He nobly persists, though they soon pause for a short repose once more.

The malady will not be appeased, no matter how tender the attention, and the steed begins to buck and weave, making it too terrible for Sir to control and too taxing for Lady to endure – faulty riding accessories already has this duo strained and sore. It is Lady Serene who admits defeat to this test of the Fates; they raptly abandon ship and ensconce the steed for a later recovery.

Not a soul around, only the moonlight to guide them, Steadfast and Lady Serene begin journey afoot, towards the next domain of villagers, the land of Markanata, several miles forward. There are no more tools, no other mode of assistance, no other solution, except to “Keep moving forward.” Once the Markanata perimeter is reached, perhaps there will be another steed to borrow for the last score of miles. They trudge on, both being plagued with dream-like trances while afoot, fighting mirages and dire needs of mental rest. The Bridge of Diamond W is reached, and our champions are joined by a one Smelly Cat, who makes himself part of the walking wagon, swiftly trotting behind the Lady, making no quarrel. The Lady, determined to not belie weakness, does not request a rest, but gratefully accepts the offer when made. With Smelly Cat at her head, the Lady drifts into a dreamful slumber. It is almost 5, and all hopes of reaching the Kingdom of Yups before dawn is not feasible. Sir awakens Lady, and a purring Smelly Cat, and they set forth, towards the pinkening sky.

“Let us not tarry,” Steadfast says. “Let there be speed in our step.” The Lady, a competent wayfarer, accepts the suggestion and begins the act of trudging with an added fervor. As the two walk into the sunrise, the scenery around them comes to life – shadows become shrubbery, dew is glistening on the grass. A natural tunnel of trees keeps the journeys cool despite their warmth acquired by physical exertion. Smelly Cat proves unworthy to continue the journey and in a pitiful meowling protest, begs off. Fare thee well, O Smelly One.

The quest now becomes to reach Markanata before the sun becomes too scorching. Serene proves to be too proficient at wayfaring, and Steadfast begs her arrest. Only the sound of Sir’s sturdy boots and Lady’s flimsy slippers can be heard against the rocky ground. The carry their armour in hand; a light, but significant burden to bear. Admittedly, carrying more tools or a hammock would have both been a blessing and a curse. The pilgrims rejoice- a domicile! As Steadfast inquires into the whereabouts of a particular vassal, Lady weakly fights lethargy. The sun is up, and it is past 6 in the morn. The persevering pilgrims wait at the domicile when, eventually, The Rider comes avast, pon steed, his father not far behind. The two easily accept the request for transport and the Steadfast and the Serene make swiftly across the savanna, both eager for their odyssey to be concluded.

As Lady moves easily and deftly with her rider on the steed, she is too fatigued and too cynical to feel at ease until the Yups soil is upon her soles. Oh, hark! The sweet scene of CH! Try as they may, the Fates did not win the war – Steadfast and Serene conquered each adversity and never stopped moving Onward – true soljahs.

The story ends, or so it seems – how will Steadfast go about steed reconnaissance? Read about how our warrior soljahs on in his new quest, in the next installment of the Don’t Feel No Way Series.