BENJAMIN LOOKED over his shoulder. He could barely see the tall row of trees where their journey began. The hot sun broke through the clouds and his stomach groaned. “It feels like it’s close to lunchtime.” A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek.

“I was about to say the same, Sire. I could use a break.” Paco’s pace had slowed to an occasional hop. “How are you two holding up?” Roscoe and Clementine trudged along with their eyes closed. Neither spoke. He smiled and yelled “Farangis!”

Their eyes popped. “Bahhh bahh!”

“Run for it! Oink, oink, oink!” They ran in different directions and hid in the tall grass. Paco exchanged a grin with Benjamin, who never imagined animals could be so funny.

“It’s okay, fellas. Just checking whether you were still protecting the kingdom.”

Their faces peeked out. Clementine puffed up his chest, trying not to look embarrassed. “Fellas, the area has been cleared of all danger!”

Roscoe was humbled. “I have no excuse, Paco. That was a good one!”

“Are you ready for lunch?” Benjamin asked.

“Oh yes, Sire! Ever since we left!” Clementine said.

“There’s a group of trees a little farther on if you want to eat in the shade.”

“Good idea, Your Majesty. It looks like those dark clouds are finally going away,” Roscoe observed. They walked on to a group of golden-green hedge trees.

“Aaaaah, now that’s more like it!” Clementine said, his big rump flattening the tall green weeds. “Let’s see that bag of yours, Sire.”

Benjamin knelt and squirmed his arms out of the straps. “I’ve got…” His arm was fully submerged in the bag, his hand groping. “I’ve got a granola bar. No, two granola bars.”

Clementine’s eyes lit up. “What are those? Actually, I don’t really care. I’ll eat ‘em!”

Benjamin unwrapped them and tossed them on the ground in front of the anxious pig, who attacked ferociously. Lying on the ground, Roscoe lazily pulled grass with his teeth. “Now, Clementine, remember to eat in moderation. We don’t want King Benjamin thinking you’re a big, fat, sloppy pig, now do we?” Clementine ignored him and rooted in the dirt for crumbs.

Benjamin turned to the goat. “Okay, Roscoe, I’ve got some–”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, Your Majesty. This grass is quite–” Benjamin pulled something from the pack. “Lettuce!” Roscoe spat out the grass in disgust and pranced to Benjamin, who was surprised and moved when the goat ate from his hand. He patted Roscoe’s head. “Baaah, baaah,” the goat murmured in contentment. Benjamin tossed the remaining chunk onto the ground and continued digging through his bag. Roscoe bent to pick it up but Clementine came from nowhere and rammed him. “Hey, pig! That’s mine!”