Not QUITE the Classics by Colin Mochrie Page A

the King’s Guards tried to surround the brothers as the fourth moved menacingly towards Tyro.
    â€œWait! Wait! I am sure we can talk this over and come to a peaceful resolution.”
    â€œAye, boy, it will be peaceful once I cut out your treasonous tongue, remove your head from your body, and crush your still-beating heart!”
    Around the “I cut out your treasonous tongue” part, Tyro decided words were not going to help his case. He glanced around for a weapon. Not surprisingly, weapons were in short supply in a magic shop. He picked up what was left of his sandwich and held it in front of him.
    The guardsman howled with laughter. “By the Gods of Barmalon! How will I fight this demon, armed with his lunch? I can only pray he does not have a flagon of ale!”
    Tyro separated the two pieces of bread and watched as the wanbuck meat fell to his feet. (The guard also watched, puzzled.) While he was distracted, Tyro leapt at him, pressing the two pieces of bread to the huge guardsman’s eyes. The guardsman screamed.
    Tyro could not have his wanbuck deluxe without adding Tafaleno Lava Sauce. It was a condiment that few could consume without experiencing cramps and painful bowel movements. But it didn’t affect Tyro at all. He liked it. Having it rubbed in your eyes, however, was bound to be painful. As the guardsman wept and thrashed around blindly, Tyro picked up a large piece of wood and clocked him on the noggin. The guard crumpled in a heap at Tyro’s feet.
    â€œWell done, Tyro!”
    Tyro turned to see Little Brother grinning at him (and Big Brother raising his fist in solidarity over Little Brother’s shoulder). At their feet lay the remains of the King’s Guards.
    â€œCome!” said Big Brother, motioning towards the door. “There will be others who wish to stop us from our quest! To our transport!”
    The brothers left Tinnywinkle’s House of Magic and Mystical Oddities. Tyro grabbed his coat and man-sack and quickly followed. He knew that the death of four of the King’s Guards in his shop would label him a traitor and a murderer, so he went with the brothers. He had a feeling this was to be the start of a great adventure.
    Adventures were the only thing Tyro hated more than being bothered.
    They had been riding for almost an hour through mountains and valleys. The brothers were up front leading the way, and Tyro brought up the rear. Big Brother rode facing forward, and Little Brother faced backward. Occasionally, he waved back at Tyro, who was clearly enjoying wanbuck riding. Mostly, though, Little Brother kept his eyes peeled for pursuers in the gloomy landscape.
    Tyro had been but a small child the last time he had sat astride one of the great beasts. The wanbuck on which the brothers were riding was larger than his, since its load was bigger. Tyro’s wanbuck was slightly smaller, but it was a rich scarlet color that was quite striking. Tyro patted its huge head affectionately.
    Wanbucks were exceptional creatures. Larger than plough horses, with feline heads and long, silky ears, they were invaluable in every way imaginable. They had eight legs, but they used only four at a time. They tucked the others in at their sides. When they started to tire, they switched legs. Wanbucks could run non-stop for up to three days. The back four legs were stronger than the front four and allowed the wanbuck to leap to a height of almost sixty feet. Their skin was thick enough to withstand any direct hit by an arrow, but soft enough to line a pillow. But the most remarkable thing of all was that all wanbucks knew, instinctually , when they were going to die. They would then travel to the nearest butcher, lie down, and expire. Their body they offered up as a final gift, and every part was delicious.
    The group had been riding for almost four hours when Tyro grew weary. As the keeper of a magic shop, he was not accustomed to long rides or saddle