Lord Murdock halted his horse and waited for his three companions to reach the top of the hill. “Where is Miguel?” he demanded. “He stayed behind at the bridge, my lord,” replied Sir David, the youngest knight. “To buy us more time.” Lord Murdock lifted the visor of his helm and spat on the ground. “The Carthax are warriors from the steppe. They have no honor. They will shoot him apart with arrows and ride over the top of him. He should have stayed with us. At least then he would have a fighting chance.” Just as he finished his words, the terrifying sound of a thousand battle horns rose up from the not too distant south.

“I told you we should have traveled by sea,” growled Lord Roland. “Now we’ll never reach the queen alive.”

“No more time to argue,” said Lord Murdock as he spurred his horse forward. “We must ride or die.”

Together the three knights rode down the hill-side as fast as their mounts would carry them. For hours they rode through a valley that would have seemed beautiful if not for the growing sound of hooves thundering behind them. “There,” yelled Lord Murdock. “Not much further.”

Rising from the far side of the valley was an ancient stone fortress with four strong towers. The knights could see the symbol of their own banner, a golden child’s hand emblazoned upon a field of green, blowing in the breeze. As they reached the castle and crossed the drawbridge, Lord Murdock yelled out: “Bar the gates and follow me!”

Once the gates were secure, all three knights climbed to the top of the strongest tower and waited for the horror that was pursuing them. The hoof beats of the massive cavalry alone could be heard for miles. Each knight gritted his teeth as the very ground beneath the keep began to tremble.

And then, as sudden as death, there they were, the vicious Carthax Dragoons, howling and waving their scimitars above their heads. The knights watched as wave after wave of the blue-skinned devils poured down into the valley beneath them. “Good God, how many of them are there?” asked Sir David.

“Too many,” replied Lord Roland, his voice beginning to tremble.

The Carthax wasted no time in beginning their attack. Hundreds of the foul beasts, with grappling hooks and swords in hand, began to hurl themselves at the walls. “Surely you realize now that we must go to sea,” said Lord Roland.

“There is no sea here,” barked Lord Murdock. “We must defend this keep or die.” He then turned his gaze down the wall just in time to see a formation of fifty Carthax, aiming their muskets up at the tower. “Get down!” he shrieked as the musket balls slammed against the heavy stones protecting them. When the dust cleared, he raised his head and saw that his old friend Lord Roland had disappeared. Enraged by the betrayal, Lord Murdock sprang to his feet, grabbed up his battle-axe, and attacked the first group of unlucky monsters to reach the top of the tower.

“Look over there!” cried Sir David as he struggled to shove one of the beasts from the tower.

When Lord Murdock turned his head he could barely believe his eyes. A great silver battleship, bristling with cannons, was now floating on a sea where the southern end of the valley used to be.

“Lord Roland has come back to save us” said Sir David. Within seconds, the heavy guns of the battleship began to hammer away at the Carthax warriors gathered beneath the castle. Huge clouds of blue smoke and earth rose up from the ground as the Carthax scattered in confusion.

“If he can do that than I can fly,” claimed Sir David.

“Stay here!” pleaded Lord Murdock. “I need you to stay here with me and fight.” But it was no use. The young knight climbed up on the ledge of the tower, spread out his arms, and jumped off without a care in the world. As he plummeted towards the earth a giant pair of black griffin’s wings sprang from his back and began to haul him back up into the air. He then drew out his sword and swooped down upon the enemy.

Lord Murdock let out a victory yell when he saw the Carthax retreating from his friends, but just as he was about to jump off the tower himself, a powerful crack of thunder rolled across the sky. When he looked up he saw a giant sandaled-foot descending from the heavens towards his castle.

“Murdock,” said his mother. “Murdock, clean up this mess and come to lunch!” Murdock blinked his eyes, and then looked around the living room at the scattered sofa cushions that used to make up his castle walls. His friends Dave and Roland were still running around the room in circles pretending to kill imaginary demons. “Murdock, tell your friend Miguel to get up. He’s been playing dead in the hallway for a half-hour.”

“OK, Mom. Can we play again after lunch?”