“The Trolls are moving. They’ve heard that the old king is dead, and they’re rising, in all the hills and valleys around. They will try to break the Elf Kingdom into fragments, scatter the Elves—”
“I see,” Shadrach said. “Before your new king can really get started.”
“That’s right.” The Elf soldier nodded. “This is a crucial moment for the Elves. For centuries, our existence has been precarious. There are so many Trolls, and Elves are very frail and often take sick—”
“Well, what should I do? Are there any suggestions?”
“You’re supposed to meet with us under the Great Oak tonight. We’ll take you into the Elf Kingdom, and you and your staff will plan and map the defense of the Kingdom.”
“What?” Shadrach looked uncomfortable. “But I haven’t eaten dinner. And my gas station—tomorrow is Saturday, and a lot of cars—”
“But you are King of the Elves,” the soldier said.
Shadrach put his hand to his chin and rubbed it slowly.
“That’s right,” he replied. “I am, ain’t I?”
The Elf soldier bowed.
“I wish I’d known this sort of thing was going to happen,” Shadrach said. “I didn’t suppose being King of the Elves—”
He broke off, hoping for an interruption. The Elf soldier watched him calmly, without expression.
“Maybe you ought to have someone else as your king,” Shadrach decided. “I don’t know very much about war and things like that, fighting and all that sort of business.” He paused, shrugged his shoulders. “It’s nothing I’ve ever mixed in. They don’t have wars here in Colorado. I mean they don’t have wars between human beings.”
Still the Elf soldier remained silent.
“Why was I picked?” Shadrach went on helplessly, twisting his hands. “1 don’t know anything about it. What made him go and pick me? Why didn’t he pick somebody else?”
“He trusted you,” the Elf said. “You brought him inside your house, out of the rain. He knew that you expected nothing for it, that there was nothing you wanted. He had known few who gave and asked nothing back.”
“Oh.” Shadrach thought it over. At last he looked up. “But what about my gas station? And my house? And what will they say, Dan Green and Pop down at the store—”
The Elf soldier moved away, out of the light. “I have to go. It’s getting late, and at night the Trolls come out. I don’t want to be too far away from the others.”
“Sure,” Shadrach said.
“The Trolls are afraid of nothing, now that the old king is dead. They forage everywhere. No one is safe.”
“Where did you say the meeting is to be? And what time?”
“At the Great Oak. When the moon sets tonight, just as it leaves the sky.”
“I’ll be there, I guess,” Shadrach said. “I suppose you’re right. The King of the Elves can’t afford to let his kingdom down when it needs him most.”
He looked around, but the Elf soldier was already gone.
Shadrach walked up the highway, his mind full of doubts and wonderings. When he came to the first of the flat stone steps, he stopped.
“And the old oak tree is on Phineas’s farm! What’ll Phineas say?”
But he was the Elf King and the Trolls were moving in the hills. Shadrach stood listening to the rustle of the wind as it moved through the trees beyond the highway, and along the far slopes and hills.
Trolls? Were there really Trolls there, rising up, bold and confident in the darkness of the night, afraid of nothing, afraid of no one?
And this business of being Elf King…
Shadrach went on up the steps, his lips pressed tight. When he reached the top of the stone steps, the last rays of sunlight had already faded. It was night.
Phineas Judd stared out the window. He swore and shook his head. Then he went quickly to the door and ran out onto the porch. In the cold moonlight a dim figure was walking slowly across the lower field, coming toward the house along the cow trail.
“Shadrach!” Phineas cried. “What’s wrong? What are you doing out this time of night?”
Shadrach stopped and put his fists stubbornly on his hips.
“You go back home,” Phineas said. “What’s got into you?”
“I’m sorry, Phineas,” Shadrach answered. “I’m sorry I have to go over your land. But I have to meet somebody at the old oak tree.”
“At this time of night?”
Shadrach bowed his head.
“What’s the matter with you, Shadrach? Who in the world you going to meet in the middle of the night on my farm?”
“I have to meet with the Elves. We’re going to plan out the war with the Trolls.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Phineas Judd said. He went back inside the house and slammed the door. For a long time he stood thinking. Then he went back out on the porch again. “What did you say you were doing? You don’t have to tell me, of course, but I just—”
“I have to meet the Elves at the old oak tree. We must have a general council of war against the Trolls.”
“Yes, indeed. The Trolls. Have to watch for the Trolls all the time.”
“Trolls are everywhere,” Shadrach stated, nodding his head. “I never realized it before. You can’t forget them or ignore them. They never forget you. They’re always planning, watching you—”
Phineas gaped at him, speechless.
“Oh, by the way,” Shadrach said. “I may be gone for some time. It depends on how long this business is going to take. I haven’t had much experience in fighting Trolls, so I’m not sure. But I wonder if you’d mind looking after the gas station for me, about twice a day, maybe once in the morning and once at night, to make sure no one’s broken in or anything like that.”
“You’re going away?” Phineas came quickly down the stairs. “What’s all this about Trolls? Why are you going?”
Shadrach patiently repeated what he had said.
“But what for?”
“Because I’m the Elf King. I have to lead them.”
There was silence. “I see,” Phineas said, at last. “That’s right, you did mention it before, didn’t you? But, Shadrach, why don’t you come inside for a while and you can tell me about the Trolls and drink some coffee and—”
“Coffee?” Shadrach looked up at the pale moon above him, the moon and the bleak sky. The world was still and dead and the night was very cold and the moon would not be setting for some time.
Shadrach shivered.
“It’s a cold night,” Phineas urged. “Too cold to be out. Come on in—”
“I guess I have a little time,” Shadrach admitted. “A cup of coffee wouldn’t do any harm. But I can’t stay very long…”
Shadrach stretched his legs out and sighed. “This coffee sure tastes good, Phineas.”
Phineas sipped a little and put his cup down. The living room was quiet and warm. It was a very neat little living room with solemn pictures on the walls, gray uninteresting pictures that minded their own business. In the corner was a small reed organ with sheet music carefully arranged on top of it.
Shadrach noticed the organ and smiled. “You still play, Phineas?”
“Not much any more. The bellows don’t work right. One of them won’t come back up.”
“I suppose I could fix it sometime. If I’m around, I mean.”
“That would be fine,” Phineas said. “I was thinking of asking you.”
“Remember how you used to play ‘Vilia’ and Dan Green came up with that lady who worked for Pop during the summer? The one who wanted to open a pottery shop?”
“I sure do,” Phineas said.
Presently, Shadrach set down his coffee cup and shifted in his chair.
“You want more coffee?” Phineas asked quickly. He stood up. “A little more?”
“Maybe a little. But I have to be going pretty soon.”
“It’s a bad night to be outside.”
Shadrach looked through the window. It was darker; the moon had almost gone down. The fields were stark. Shadrach shivered. “I wouldn’t disagree with you,” he said.