Larry sat, precariously balanced at the very tip of the old oak’s highest branch. He’d reversed his jacket, changing the colour from bright red to dappled green… to make himself almost invisible. Only the tufts of bushy eyebrows flashed coppery red when the occasional sun ray broke through the thickening grey, storm clouds. He needed the storm to break. Then, when the rainbow appeared his luck would surely change. He’d be transported into that window… to cast his spell… to be with his Lady Lucy.
So he thought. He swayed from side to side with the branch. The wind now ruffled more than his bushy eyebrows. The raindrops were running down his exposed face… down, into his matted beard. He’d tucked the wiry hair into his frilly shirt front and now he was regretting it. Cold rivulets meandered down his heaving chest.
Concentrate on the task at hand, he chided himself. If you want to cast your spell you must forget your discomfort. A strong gust tore at the tree… momentarily dislodging his grip. One moment was enough. He crashed downward… breaking branches as he fell.
“Look Princess… look what I’ve found!”
His head throbbed. He dared not open his eyes… yet. Where was he? Oh yes… he remembered. He’d tumbled and must have struck his head on the way down because he couldn’t recall much else. Now… was that a spear tip pinning him down? He opened one eye… slowly. A castle guard was standing over him… pressing down on his spear.
“Look my lady, we’ve got ourselves a wee lecherous leprechaun. He must’ve fallen from the tree. I wonder what he was doing up the tree outside your window? Should I drive him through now… or later?”
“No no… don’t do that! Save his life, let him do us a lucky jig and cast a happy spell!”
Larry opened his other eye… wide. There, peeking out behind the guard, the pretty face of the luscious Lady Lucy. He sprang bolt upright as soon as the spear tip was out of harm’s way.
“I’ll sing yea a song and dance yea a jig
let go of me… I’ll leave a pot o’ gold
at the end of the rainbow big
only if you do as you’re told
or else, I’ll cast you a spell
in a second I can make you old
better put away your long thin spear
at rainbow’s end you’ll find your gold!”
Larry twirled his little sword… not in anger but as his magic wand. In a flash he was gone.
They say… if you listen closely on a stormy night, you’ll hear his song echo across the deserted ruin. They say, you’ll also hear a banshee’s wail… for there’s no pot o’ gold at that rainbow’s end!