Dinglefoot

By Cassandra Anandappa

The story of Dinglefoot takes place in the land of Ranuan. An elfin farmer named Emil Dinglefoot is suddenly exposed to a deep, forgotten secret that was prophesized to be revealed many years earlier. Emil learns that he is of direct heritage to one of the first royal bloodlines of the King of the Elves.
Besides this new revelation, it becomes Emils duty to rescue the Ruby of the Elves, a jewel containing great power that was given to the elfin race, making them the most powerful in the land. Emil must retrieve the Ruby before the goblin Mordeus, the King of Evil, can abuse its power. Mordeus must fight his way into the World Above, and once he sets foot through its well-hidden gate, the power of the Ruby must be yielded to him.
Emil sets off on his long journey with nine strangers as his only companions. Together, they must recruit soldiers from all over the land of Ranuan and form an army capable of defeating their malicious, bloodthirsty enemy. Emil finds many twists and turns throughout his trek, and in the end, he finds that before he can gain what he wants, he must lose everything he has.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 6, 2006
• ISBN: 9781477175460

Cassandra Anandappa

Cassandra Anandappa has been writing short stories and poetry since kindergarten and has placed second and third places in a local poetry contest two years in a row. She shows her great love for the arts by participating in the spring musicals, choir, and dance team at her high school. She takes an interest in journalism and is a writer and layout editor for her school newspaper. Cassandra is very fond of music and enjoys all genres, especially bhangra and Sinhala. Although her passion is writing fiction, she wishes to go to medical school and become a doctor. She lives in Columbus, Ohio with her parents, her younger sister, and her dog. This is her first novel

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Copyright © 2006 by Cassandra Anandappa.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

~Chapter One~

~Chapter Two~

~Chapter Three~

~Chapter Four~

~Chapter Five~

~Chapter Six~

~Chapter Seven~

~Chapter Eight~

~Chapter Nine~

~Chapter Ten~

~Chapter Eleven~

~Chapter Twelve~

~Chapter Thirteen~

~Chapter Fourteen~

~Chapter Fifteen~

~Chapter Sixteen~

~Chapter Seventeen~

~Chapter Eighteen~

~Chapter Nineteen~

~Chapter Twenty~

~Chapter Twenty-One~

~Chapter Twenty-Two~

~Chapter Twenty-Three~

~Chapter Twenty-Four~

~Chapter Twenty-Five~

~Chapter Twenty-Six~

~Chapter Twenty-Seven~

~Chapter Twenty-Eight~

~Chapter Twenty-Nine~

~Chapter Thirty~

For my sister:

my best editor and my toughest critic.

~Chapter One~

Ralph walked briskly through the bustling streets of the city surrounding the castle, his two comrades pressing hard to keep up. Despite the warmth of the afternoon sun, Ralph’s cloak was wrapped tightly around his body to conceal his tell-tale garments. His hood was pulled up to shadow his face. His accomplices had their hoods pulled up as well, but they kept their heads bent to completely hide their goblin features. Ralph was concerned about Prince Mordeus and whether he would succeed in his own mission. Ralph had no worries for himself—Ralph the Halfling, as he was known in Kambro. He was half-goblin, half-elf. He was an elf on the outside, but his blood ran black on the inside. No one would be too suspicious.

Ralph’s mother was an elf, his father a goblin, but when the time came for Ralph to choose his path in life, he knew deep inside that the Darkness within him existed and thrived. It far surpassed the goodness in him, and as a result he followed in his father’s footsteps, working in the service of the king of Kambro, King Yuris, father of Prince Mordeus, whom Ralph served faithfully.

I’m ‘ungry, Ralph, hissed one of the goblins. Let’s stop somewhere and eat. We’ve got all day to get the job done.

Half the day is gone already, said Ralph shortly. But I’m hungry as well. We’ll stop for a bit, but no longer than a few minutes.

Ralph and the two goblins went for the nearest food hall, a lively place called Wort’s Food and Ale. Inside, it was dimly lit by oil lamps hanging from the ceiling. The place was alive with drunken elves, laughing, singing, even dancing. The three strangers did not seem to fit into all of the merriment, like crows among songbirds. They took occupancy on three stools at the side of the bar farthest away from the jubilee. They ordered ale, cold ham, and a block of cheese. The cheese, though, was just a decoy. Goblins were carnivorous; anything else would be insubstantial. As Ralph was chewing on a piece of ham, he tried to recollect his orders exactly. Prince Mordeus was not one to be made angry.

When Ralph was given his mission, he had not thought twice about it. The way the prince had persuaded him made the plan seem fool-proof. Although, along the fifty-mile journey, it was many a time that Ralph had second-guessed Mordeus’ scheme. Part of Mordeus’ plan was to kill the king, his own father. True, Ralph was just as power-hungry as Mordeus was, but for Mordeus to kill his own father was very risky business. The second murder would cause catastrophe, surely. Not only would the people be in an uproar, but it is nearly impossible to hunt down the next king when he was still yet to be found. Mordeus told Ralph to trust him, that his plan was in place, and they would not have to find the king; he would find them. The difficult part would be stealing the Ruby. If they were caught, what then? Such an act was unthinkable, and the punishment horrible beyond imagination. The Ruby of the Elves was a powerful gem—the most powerful. Whether Mordeus could control its power or not, Ralph could not determine. Of course, once the Ruby was in Evil’s hands, Bánturum had less power over it. It was up to Ralph to make sure of that.

Bánturum. The name made Ralph remember his mother; such strong faith she had in her god. She always used to tell Ralph when he was little, The Lord has given you life, Ralph, as he has made my people the Chosen Ones of Ranuan. Ralph felt a sudden pang of remorse that now he was helping to destroy the god that his dear mother was so true to.

The guilt rose from him quickly. He had long given up his faith in Bánturum, the god that took his dear parents away from him before their time. No, Ralph owed naught to Bánturum. He would help Mordeus in the World Above to put Bánturum out of existence by draining the Ruby of its power. Mordeus would rule Ranuan, with Ralph by his side, as promised. I shall rule, mumbled Ralph under his breath. He clenched the handle of his mug so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

What’s wrong, Ralph? rasped one of the goblins. Your face’s gone all sour-lookin’.

Yeah, agreed the other one. And you’re like to shatter that there ‘andle.

It’s the happiness in this place, Ralph lied. It disgusts me to the bone. Let’s move on. Ralph rose from his seat, slapped some money onto the table, and turned to leave.

But I ‘aven’t finished me pint yet, pined the first goblin.

Leave it and let’s go, growled Ralph, head bent. The others reluctantly followed.

When they stepped outside, Ralph squinted at the sudden burst of daylight. He walked quickly, the goblins close behind.

Within a few minutes, their destination became visible. The large stone castle rose almost a hundred feet into the air. The wooden doors were open, welcoming those who came to worship Bánturum at the altar of the Ruby. On either side of the doorway were two flagpoles, each bearing a gold flag with the emblem of the royal court of the Elfin King: the embroidered depiction of the Ruby encircled by the royal crown, cradled in the X of a sword and a walking staff. The crown stood for the king and queen of the elves, leaders of the Lord’s Chosen Ones. The sword represented the royal army, and the staff represented Bangal, the king’s advisor, the second most powerful in the land—the man Ralph was promised to become.

Ralph stopped and gazed.

There it is, said he. The goblins exchanged glances. Prepare your swords. Ralph could see out of the corner of his eye the goblins shifting their arms under their robes. Enjoy this moment, men, for it shall change Ranuan forever.

~Chapter Two~

Dust flew every which way; tickling Emil’s nose and making him sneeze and cough without end. Emil Dinglefoot hated spring cleaning, but it was a tradition in Ranuan, one that he could not escape. It was worse for him, because he really was not a very tidy elf. As Emil shuffled to the center of his sitting room to gather the rug for cleaning, his foot slid behind the slender leg of an end table, and as he moved forward, the table toppled, falling with a thud and a crash as the porcelain vase atop of it shattered on the floor.

Oh, beetlebrow, uttered Emil. This was not a new instance for the poor elf. Many times he was the cause of havoc because of his clumsiness, an inherited trait. Long before his time, his family was given the name Dinglefoot, dingle meaning clumsy in the old tongue. As he swept up the pieces of porcelain, he recalled one time in the market when his pant-leg got caught on the latch of a wire chicken pen while he was walking past. Emil tugged at the snag, but it would not detach. Finally, with one last powerful tug, his trouser came loose—as well as the latch, and with a great squawking and fluttering of feathers, almost twenty chickens were set loose, pecking on passers-by and scattering through the streets, and of course the poor merchant was trying to catch them all the while cursing at a very surprised Emil.

His unpleasant reminiscences were interrupted by a sudden knock at the door. Emil did not even need to look through the window to see who it was, for he already knew. Reluctantly, he answered the door. It was Bianca, the pestilence of the village.

Good morning, Emil, she said sweetly, batting her blue eyes as she invited herself inside. Oh, Emil, she exclaimed, whatever did you do to your beautiful hair?

Why, what’s wrong with it? demanded Emil, rushing to the nearest mirror.

Well, it looks more gray than red.

Emil gazed at his reflection. It appeared that some of the dust from his furniture had come to settle on his head. His bright red hair peeped out from under the layer of dust. Emil was average height—about five and a half feet, with dark green eyes, slightly rounded features, and slim but muscled limbs. He checked himself over once for good measure. His brown cotton slacks appeared clean enough, though his linen shirt could use washing. He frowned and turned.

First off, Bianca, he said heatedly, we of the male species would rather be called ‘handsome’ than ‘beautiful.’ And secondly—

Actually, Emil, interrupted Bianca, "I called your hair beautiful, not you. Though I must say, she continued, batting her eyes, you are rather pretty."

Emil’s face turned red with irritation.

Did you come to annoy me or to tell me something? said Emil, attempting to calmly return to his work.

I came to tell you two things. You promised me a picnic today, Emil.

When did I do that? called Emil while cleaning under a table.

Last week when we visited Grandfather’s wine cellar!