The Quest That Led to Gouda

By Natalie Roffing

“Mama?” a scared, little voice called.

Phezznibbet Maplebark’s ears twitched, his paw closing around the bottom knife in his bandolier. He poked his head around the slimy dumpster that hid him. At the front of the alleyway stood a figure not much smaller than himself. It didn’t appear threatening, so he took a few steps closer.

A human child. A girl with adorable blonde ringlets and one thumb inserted into the corner of her mouth. She clutched a well-loved teddy bear—one of its button eyes dangling by a thread, and its dark fur matted and stained.

“Mama?” she repeated, and Phezz realized that the poor thing was all alone.

For a brief moment, he considered turning the other way, leaving the youngling. But then he remembered the young Xintixa left alone when cruel giants had ravaged their kingdom. He shuddered at the thought of that violent war in the not-too-distant past. All the carnage. All the misery. All the children without parents. He was one of them.

Yet she could be a child of the ravagers. And he had a mission to complete, with a reward that meant he could finally settle down and build the treetop inn he had always dreamed of.

“Chieftain Maplebark!” one of his younger Xintixa attachés whispered from around the dumpster.

“What is it, Norbert?” he hissed back.

“We’ve found the target!”

“Good! Is everything as we expected?” Phezz came to look at the tablet Norbert was holding.

“Yes, sir, down to the number of guards. The north entrance of the museum is primed for our entry, and we have located the key to the display case.” Norbert pressed a few buttons, and a map appeared on the screen. “It’s in this office right there.” He pointed.

Phezz studied the map. The destination was about two miles away, which would take about fifteen minutes for a running Xintixa. At least, a well fed one. Because right now he could definitely go for a grilled cheese sandwich.

“Let’s go.” His four attachés lined up in a row, and together, they ran out of the alleyway.

But as Phezz ran, he had a niggling feeling of guilt. He should have helped that youngling. How could he leave her—just as he had been left? Even if she was one of the ravager kind, he shouldn’t just abandon her. He wouldn’t stoop to their level.

Skidding to a stop, he tumbled forward as his companions crashed into him.

“What is it, Chieftain Maplebark?” Norbert panted.

“I believe I left something back in the alley. Go on without me. I’ll catch up.”

“Yes, sir.”

Phezz watched as they continued to run toward the target. Shaking his head at his own stupidity, he made his way back to the alley. The child still stood at the other end, crying.

Walking up slowly so as not to startle her, he came to stand next to her. “Hey, now! Don’t be scared!” Phezz drew a handkerchief to deal with her teary eyes and snotty nose. “Now then, little one. Where’d you lose your mother?”

The child reached out to touch his bushy tail, babbling something as she did so.

“Whoa, now!” He gently guided her hand away. “Hands off the tail!”

She burbled another string of gibberish and giggled in response.

He felt the corners of his lips turn up in a rare smile. She really was quite cute.

Taking hold of her hand, he led her out of the alleyway. “Come on. Let’s go find your mother.”

“Mama?” she chirped.

“Yes, we’re gonna find her.”

Looking up and down the street, he wondered where the mother could be. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out with the girl in tow, wondering where to check first. The supermarket? Phezz waddled up to the sliding doors, curious what people would do when they saw him. Thankfully, he was saved the trouble when he heard a woman cry, “Ilsa!”

She certainly bore a remarkable resemblance to the little girl, and she was running frighteningly fast toward them. Phezz was concerned for a moment that he had done something he would regret.

But then the child giggled and reached her arms up. “Mama!”

The woman scooped her off the ground. “Oh, Ilsa, I was so worried!”

The child babbled in response and pointed to Phezz.

The woman looked down and clutched Ilsa tightly in her surprise.

Phezz straightened his tan vest and removed the helmet from his head—a rare action on his part, since the helmet concealed the deep scar running across his face. “I found your daughter in this alleyway, ma’am, and she looked so lost that I had to help.”

“Oh, thank you!” The woman reached down to shake his offered paw. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to adequately thank you.”

Phezz smiled politely. “No thanks necessary, ma’am. Just doing what’s right.”

“No. I insist. Whatever you want is yours.”

Phezz pondered. Doing the right thing hardly warranted a reward. There was no way he could ask for the money for his dream inn. Besides, that kind of money would go much further in helping little Ilsa.

Then his nose picked up a familiar and well-loved scent. Cheese!

Ears, nose, and whiskers twitching in anticipatory delight, he cleared his throat. “Well, if you insist, you could buy me and my buddies some of that delicious-smelling smoked gouda.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Natalie Roffing has been writing for almost half a decade. While her work has (hopefully) improved in that time, she knows that she can still improve in a lot of areas. She focuses more on quantity than quality, preferring to write prodigious amounts over stressing over each and every sentence. When she is not writing, she loves hanging out with friends and family, and cheering on the Kansas City Chiefs.

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