The jester and the frog

Leasere was sat in the corner of a dark room, waiting to be called. All around him was the smell of damp sand and earth and all he had to keep him company was a rat nibbling on the plate of stale bread that he had left uneaten.
"Bring Leasere!" called the trill, rotund voice of Queen Bebba. "I need to be entertained."
Leasere heard the thump of marching feet and the chink of armour getting ever closer until it stopped outside his door. He waited. Three long knocks. Wood on wood.
"Enter," said Leasere.
The door squeaked open and in marched Cafortun, the Head of Court. Cafortun was so short a fellow none of his clothes fit him. His midnight blue robe hung like a sack about his body and trailed on the ground. And his shiny silver armour, which was supposed to protect his chest, knocked against his knees.
"The Queen orders you to perform. Her head is flushed with pain. She needs some comfort," Cafortun ordered.
Leasere, at the sight of this unfortunate chap, let out a little snigger but hurriedly stifled it lest he be whipped like so many other that had passed thorough the Queen's court. He had heard much from the peasants in the village who told of unfortunate souls that were taken for the Queen's pleasure but whom never returned. He rose hesitantly and stepped out of the dark, behind the shuffling Cafortun, and into the torchlight of the antechamber that connected to the Queen's Throne Room.
"Hurry," came the bellowing voice of the Queen. "I grow weary and my head throbs. I need relief."
Her voice was so deep and booming Leasere felt the stone floor beneath his feet vibrate. He wanted to turn and run. 'What could she want of me? I'm no jester,'he thought.
Ahead, draped over a doorway to the Throne Room was a plush velvet curtain, the colour of the deepest purple Pilberries in Landscearu, and as Leasere approached, it swept to the side giving him leave to enter the Queen's most grandious chamber.
The Throne Room walls were awash with midnight and pillberry velvet that draped from anything it could be hung from, the floor was a checkerboard of midnight and pillberry coloured squares, and the furniture was intricately carved from the darkest ebony.
Sat, lonely, on a sparkling silver throne on a podium at the far end of the room was Queen Bebba. She was a very tall woman. So tall that when she sat on her throne her feet hung over the edge of the podium. And her plaited silver hair, that coiled round her head into the shape of a cone, almost touched the wooden beams of the ceiling. She was resting her forehead in her hand as she leant on the arm of her throne and tappped her fingers on the other arm.
"Leasere, your majesty," said Cafortun as he chinked his way towards her.
Without so much as even raising her head she waved him off with the swish of her hand.
Cafortun bowed and moved to the side.
Wearily, Queen Bebba raised her head and with narrowed eyes examined Leasere.
Leasere fidgeted where he stood, not knowing whether he should bow or curtsey or kneel before her.
"You are the one with tall tales," she said in an impatient tone.
Leasere was unsure whether she asked a question or was merely stating a fact. He made to answer her but she stayed him with a hand.
"I require no answer, young peasant. Weave me your anecdotes and take my mind off my malaise for I fear soon my head will crack."
"I speak nought but the truth, my dear lady," Leasere proffered bravely. He knew such outspokenness was unwise but felt the Queen ought to be aware lest she truly mistook his tales for fanciful falsehoods.
Queen Bebba leaned forward in her throne. "You are either brave or foolish. Which is it?"
"I was foolish, my lady, for venturing from my mother's side in Castel when I and my twin brother were younglings but brave when the claws of a swooping dragon snatched me up and carried me off to the caves in the northern land. So I am both."
Queen Bebba leaned back in her throne. She rubbed her chin and peered down her long nose at Leasere.
"You were raised by dragons?" she asked.
Leasere nodded.
"That is a tall tale," she said. "I've heard not of any person surviving such an existence. How did it come so?"
"The dragons treated me as one of there own. Gave me morsels of meat from fresh kills, carried water in their wings from the lagoons in the valley for me to drink and had me sleep on a mattress of rubber leaves. I lived ten years and ten days in their cave with not a scratch to my skin from tooth or claw," said Leasere.
"You speak with earnest," said the Queen beconing Leasere to come and sit by her feet. "Pray tell how did you escape and come to be in Landscearu?"
Leasere perched himself on the edge of the podium. She was indeed of an unusual size as her feet were as long as Leasere's arm.
"There was a great storm one evening as the blossom coloured sun set. A foul wind whipped through the cave and stole the gown I had worn as a youngling, right out from under me. It carried it through the cave where it gusted high into the air. I made to grab it and claim it back but I reached to far over the precipice and tumbled down, down, towards the lagoon. There I crashed through the still waters and a thick darkness took hold of me and dragged me down into the deep blue. I felt like I was floating. It was calm and peaceful."
"But you did not die?" enquired the Queen.
"No, I did not. There I met the Sea People-tiny urchins living amongst the reeds. They carried me along on their backs-hundreds and hundreds of them-until they reached the shore. They placed me on the shale and watched and waited as life came back to me. When it did and they felt their task was done they left to return to their home, but as I lay there dripping and dazed one of the urchins returned bearing a pearl as big as his torso. He dropped it into the palm of my hand and told me in his watery voice that it was for 'luck'."
"That was mightily generous of them, especially as you crashed uninvited into their world."
"It was, although the shale was strewn with pearls and oyster shells. I suspect that they care not for intruders, alive or dead, in their home. They were of a tidy sort."
"And then what befell you?"
"Then, my lady, I wandered for thirty days and thirty nights through the enchanted forests of Middlebits. I encountered a race of giant elves that gave me cuts of salted meats to eat, pygmy dwarves that sewed threads for me to wear and a hive of fairies that lit a path for me to walk safely out of the trees."
"So your fortunes changed?"
"They did," continued Leasere, "until I left the forest where the barren rocky landscape harboured malevolent shadows."
The Queen's eyes pricked open. "Sprites?" she said.
Leasere nodded. "I knew not that I had stumbled into the land of shadow sprites. Tricksy little devils they are. And devils be the right word for them. They can turn day to night and night to day on a whim. They can make you feel sleepy when you're awake and make you awake when you are sleepy. By the seventh day of their company I was so confused I felt sure I was walking in circles. I saw no end to their land in sight. My mind was plagued to the point I even mistook my own shadow for one of them and spent an hour chasing it away. Such was the delirium they inflicted on me."
"But you were saved, once more," stated the Queen.
"Yes. I was fortunate to stumble upon a woodcutter who was travelling back to his home from the enchanted forest. He knew of a path that all travellers should take when traversing the land of shadow sprites. He led me from harms way. Then not two days from my madness I fell upon the little village of Landscearu. I told all I met of my travels but none believed me."
"You should have shown them your pearl, for pearls are rare in these parts indeed."
Leasere leaned back, away from the Queen. The queen appeared to consider such a move as suspicious. She thrust forward in her throne and glared at Leasere.
"You have your pearl still?" she hissed. "I command you to show it me. If you claim your tales are not falsehoods, I wish to confirm your veracity."
Leasere felt about his person but could find no pearl.
"You lie. You have lied to me, Queen Bebba," the Queen spat.
"I have only spoken the truth, my lady," pleaded Leasere. "Perhaps the witch stole if from me when she turned me into a frog."
"More lies. You are not a frog. You stand before me pink and fleshy not green and scaly. You are no frog. You are a liar who lies. I can tolerate one who admits their fabrications but you are a sham," she roared. "Cafortun, take this wretched thing to the dungeons. His fate will be decided. I am not best pleased and now the ache has returned to my head with a vengeance."
The Head of Court approached Leasere and grabbed him by the arm. Leasere was dragged across the Throne Room as he pleaded with the Queen for compassion and faith. But the Queen heard nothing.
Cafortun marched Leasere down the winding, earthy corridors, deeper and deeper into the castle's keep to where the air was so stale and warm Leasere was sure he was close to the centre of the world. There, into a dark dungeon, he was thrown.
For weeks he waited for his fate wondering why the Queen would not believe him and why he could not find his pearl. Every day he felt around his pockets hoping it would turn up and he could prove what he said was true, and then one day Leasere heard a croaking sound from the corner of his dungeon. He peered into the darkness, wondering what it was and out hopped a bright green frog with a glisteningly moist, scaly back. In its hand it held a brilliant, pink pearl.
"My pearl," said Leasere with glee and made to take it from the frog. But the frog retreated.
"Give me my pearl," said Leasere.
"This is not your pearl, brother, this is mine," croaked the frog.
Leasere jumped back against the wall. "What madness is this? What do you mean to say that you are my brother?"
"You are quite unwell, brother," said the frog in a matter-of-fact manner.
"Don't call me that."
"But it is the truth. It would seem that you have lived, by some strange magic, in your mind what I have lived in body."
Leasere eyed the frog with apprehension. "This I cannot believe."
"My name is Leasere," croaked the frog. "Your name is Gebroor. It was I that was snatched from our mother. It was I that was raised by dragons and saved by Sea People and fed and clothed in the enchanted forest and tormented by the shadow sprites. Our brotherly connection is more than blood, as it would seem."
Leasere slumped down on the rock stool in his dungeon. "Brother," he whimpered. "It is true."
The frog nodded his head. "Now, I will give you this pearl to prove to the Queen the truth in my stories to free you but you must promise me that in return you will take me to the Wizard of Galdorgalere. Only he can restore me to my true self."
Leasere picked up the frog in his hands and smiled at him. "I promise, brother, dear."