by Eric Vall
“Are you okay?” I shouted at the man.
“I was packin’ up me chickens to take to market,” he howled, “and they took ‘em! Wagon and all! Me only wagon!”
Since we passed no wagon earlier, I guessed the bandits went the other direction, and sure enough, I could see a cloud of dust about a mile ahead. Without another word, I told Bobbie to give everything she had.
In thirty seconds, I could see the wagon clearly as we gained on them. It was a run down wagon as you’d expect from a chicken farmer with a tattered canvas that flapped as it clattered down the dirt road. I knew it would only be another minute before we overtook them, and I looked forward to that meeting. In my book, you can’t get lower than to rob a poor man of his only livelihood.
“I’ll stop them!” I shouted, but before I could twist the handlebars and steer Bobbie off the road, the motorcycle seemed to turn all by herself and plow right into the cornfield after the wagon.
Shoshanne screamed as we bumped over uneven ground, and fully grown stalks whipped at us. I took a moment to gather my senses before I was able to understand what Bobbie relayed to me through the link in our minds. She didn’t exactly talk with words, but I could still feel what she felt.
Man, magic was fucking awesome.
“You saw the guy in the back of the wagon nocking an arrow?” Aurora shouted back to me. “I saw him just a second before you got out of the way!”
“I didn’t, but Bobbie did!” I called back. I couldn’t help but think how I wished Bobbie had the channeling gem when we were moving through Cedis at a snail’s pace because we didn’t know if the roads were booby-trapped or not.
Just as suddenly as she had swung to the right into the field, Bobbie turned left back onto the road. It was precisely timed to intercept the wagon which we had barely overtaken.
The farmer’s horse reared up in alarm at our appearance. With a whinny of panic, it tore off in the opposite direction into an open field, and we took chase. We would have quickly overtaken them in a straightforward race, but Bobbie had to swerve to the left and right to evade the bandit’s arrows.
Aurora’s keen half-elven sight detected the danger ahead a moment before Bobbie communicated something similar in my mind.
“They’re heading right for a cliff over the sea!” she shouted.
I held out my hand and called up my Terra powers.
Just before the cliff edge, the dirt and stone rose up to block the runaway horse’s path. I let it expand north and south in case the panicking beast tried to go around as Bobbie barreled closer and closer. The bandits must have been out of arrows because she no longer dodged left and right, and we reached them in no time.
I had Bobbie stop fifty yards away and jumped from my seat.
There were two bandits in the wagon, an ugly fat one with the chickens in the back who had the bow and arrow, and an ugly skinny one in the front who had steered the horse’s path. Each jumped down and came at me, swords in hand.
I chuckled. Poor bastards. Don’t come after a Metal Mage with swords.
With a simple push of my powers, the blades flew out of their hands. For added effect, I twisted them together like a pretzel before I let them fall to the ground. The bandits stared at me but were apparently too stupid to know to run.
I dropped to my knees, and the warm earth rose to touch my hands beneath the cool seaside grass. Quicksand formed beneath the bandits who were now only a few feet away. It swallowed the fat one, but the skinny one managed to jump out of the way and run straight at me.
A shot rang out, and he fell to the ground. Most of the top of his head was gone.
I stood up and looked back to Bobbie. Cayla had commandeered the sidecar turret from Shoshanne.
“Get down, Mason!” she yelled, and I dropped back down to my knees just before a second shot rang out.
The fat bandit, covered in quicksand, stood behind me. He looked down at the big bloody hole in his chest, very surprised before he fell back very dead. I turned and gave Cayla the thumbs up.
“Well, you did call me Princess Crackshot!” the raven-haired beauty called to me behind the smoking barrel of the rifle.
“You’ve earned it for sure,” I replied with a laugh. “Let Bobbie take you back to the farmhouse. I’ll follow with his horse and wagon.”
A day and a half later, I relayed this tale in the royal study at King Temin’s castle in Serin, the capital of Illaria. It was a comfortable room, not designed to impress like the rest of the castle. Soft chairs, a warm fire, a place to gather with friends. The king didn’t have to tell me it was his favorite room, and I was honored to be invited in.
We had arrived in the capital a few hours earlier, and after he gave me a big bear hug and tutted about us being away too long, I introduced him to Shoshanne. She was overwhelmed, so I quickly took over the conversation. Of course, King Temin wanted to throw a grand feast to welcome us back to Illaria, but I begged for a private audience instead.
King Temin listened attentively as we told our tales of the war with the Bandit Boss in Cedis, and how people like the poor chicken farmer still suffered from the remnants of the kingdom’s terror.
“The poor fellow,” the king muttered, and sympathy shone in his brown eyes. “He must have thought he lost everything he owned. I imagine he didn’t know how to thank you.”
“Oh, he honored us with a home-cooked meal,” I replied, a grin on my face at the memory of it. “It was chicken wings.”
“You can eat their wings?” Temin exclaimed, not sure if I made a joke.
“Yeah, the old man explained that he would sell the rest of the meat to the butchers in town,” I laughed. “He just kept the scraps they didn’t want, like the wings, for his own meals. ‘Dude, that’s the best part!’ I told him. ‘You got any hot sauce?’”
“Hot sauce?” Temin, with no idea what I meant, joined me in my laugh.
“We improvised with some herbs and spices,” I sighed. “It was pretty damn good.”
“Actually, one of the best meals I can remember,” Cayla agreed. “I will definitely recommend father start serving it at our castle.”
“And so it shall be in mine,” Temin laughed again. “After we have finished our business, I shall order my cooks to prepare us royal wings in hot sauce!”
“I guess that’s our cue to get to business,” Aurora said, a serious note to her voice. She looked to Cayla, who stood, pulled a letter from her satchel, and brought it to the king.
“From your ally, my father, King Davit of Cedis,” Cayla said as King Temin took it from her dainty pale hand.
We all fell silent as the King of Illaria opened the letter. His brow furrowed as he read it.
“Once again, your father asks for soldiers and supplies for his kingdom,” Temin muttered. “Just as he did when you came before, princess. We were then in a crisis, but still, I lent you these two great mages. Not to mention Mason’s miraculous weapons. That is not enough?”
“You’ve heard how Cedis continues to suffer,” the princess said as she bowed her head. “I saw how touched you were.”
“I have a heart,” Temin nodded, but his jaw grew resolute. “But a king must reign with a mind to his own people first. I’m afraid I can’t help you, Cayla.”
Aurora spoke up. “We had a peaceful ride once we passed the border, Your Majesty. You are no longer plagued by strange beasts like the ones we fought? The drakes and the hydra?”
“No, not in some time,” Temin replied thoughtfully, but his eyes grew dark. “I fear this peace is not to last, however.”
“I agree with you,” I said eagerly, “but don’t you see that’s why a strong alliance with Cedis is needed more than ever? The same Master who controlled Abrus here in your court was the one behind Camus Dred in King Davit’s land. Now is the time to pull together with our allies to address this threat, not isolate yourself.”
King Temin stared at me and considered my words. I wondered if I had gone too far. Temin was different f
rom most kings I’d heard about, but would he really accept such strong words from a commoner?
“Precisely what do you need?” Temin said and looked to Cayla.
My heart lurched into my throat in anticipation. Would he agree?
“As many soldiers and supplies as you can possibly spare, Your Majesty,” Cayla said eagerly, hope in her bright blue eyes, “and mages too, in order to rebuild and refortify before the Master makes his next move. You know, we have no mages in Cedis.”
Temin took a moment and nodded. “It will be done. Now, I must introduce you to Wyresus. He’s been leading the Order of Elementa since Abrus’s death.”
I noticed Aurora react, but I wasn’t sure if it was because the thought of Abrus and his betrayal still hurt. She swore more than once that it didn’t anymore, but there was something in Temin’s words that affected her. I put it aside for now.
“Thank you,” I said, “and there is one thing more.”
“Indeed?” the king said with a wry smile. “You have another favor to ask?”
“It is for the good of all or I wouldn’t,” I said quickly. “Dred spoke of the Master setting his sights on Nalnora as well. We must find a way to meet with them and convince them to join with us against him.”
“For all the good it will do,” Temin muttered as he shook his head. “I think the elves would rather their kingdom go down in flames before they’d shake a neighborly hand with a human.”
I turned to Aurora, but she nodded, pain in her emerald eyes.
“I told you much the same, Mason,” the half-elf said sadly.
“An alliance between Illaria, Cedis, and Nalnora may be the only thing that saves us all,” I insisted.
“I agree,” the king replied with a shrug. “I will write to them, but I must warn you that even if they do reply, do not expect it to come quickly. I don’t know if it’s because they’re so damn long-lived, but the elves seem to always have a different sense of time than we do. They may send us a response in a few months or a few years and feel they’ve acted quickly.”
“Let us hope it’s weeks, not months,” I sighed. “Thank you for trying, Temin. You know, I was just saying to my pupil Shoshanne here that trying is all I ever ask.”
Shoshanne, happy to be forgotten in the background, glared at me at the mention of her name. When the king’s eyes went to her, she meekly bowed and hid her beautiful face under a wave of copper-colored curls.
“It is a wise lesson to learn,” King Temin said with a smile. “And now, let us go feast on these hot wings!”
Chapter 3
If it weren’t for the fancy surroundings, the gilt chandeliers, the ornate silk tapestries, the jeweled embroidered linens on the table, the feast would have been any college party back on Earth. King Temin had ordered his cooks to fry up chicken wings for our banquet, and it was the talk of the castle.
“Chicken wings?” I could clearly hear the shocked cry from the kitchen echo through the great halls of the palace.
But they did as they were told. Deep-fried, crispy, juicy, and slathered with their own version of hot sauce, the smell of the wings hung in the air, and I could almost feel it on my skin. They filled up several silver platters arranged around the long banquet table, together with pitchers of the king’s finest lager. Just before the hour, I had taken a trip down to the kitchens and asked them to cut up slivers of carrots and celery to be served with a special dipping sauce.
“Buttermilk, onion, oil, eggs, garlic, mustard seed, salt, parsley, dill, and paprika,” I instructed, and then I watched the cooks’ assistants run through the galley to gather up what was needed.
It was my adoptive mother’s recipe, and with a little direction, they made it perfectly.
So that was the day I introduced the royal kingdom of Illaria to chicken wings and ranch dressing. What can I say? I like the finer things in life.
The guests at the feast were unsure at first, but they all knew the first rule of etiquette: if the king eats it, you better not say you’re too good for it. At first, Temin tried to use a knife on his wing but seated on his right as one of the guests of honor, I quickly showed him how it was done.
“The easiest way to eat a wing,” I explained, as I picked one up to demonstrate, “is to pick it up and rip into it with your teeth, like so.”
Aurora, seated at the king’s left, picked up another wing and cleared her throat.
“The problem with Defender Flynt’s technique is that it’s easy, but sloppy,” the blue-haired mage said as she twisted on her wing until the flesh was torn off. “With a bit more finesse, you can separate the meat from the bone with your fingers. By this means, you don’t end up with half the hot sauce on your cheeks and chin.”
I put my hand to my beard stubble and laughed since my chin was indeed covered with wing juice and sauce. Temin clapped his hands and roared with laughter as did most of the rest of the table.
“Excuse me,” Cayla interrupted the crowd and reached for a wing of her own. “There is a third way I’ve discovered. Select a drumette, slip it in your mouth, and… ummmm…”
The raven-haired princess ceased to speak after she popped three-quarters of the meatiest part of the drumette between her gorgeous pink lips. The table fell silent at the sight of her as she gnawed and slurped while she held onto the end of the wing. Her eyes drooped in ravenous ecstasy as she did so until at last, she pulled the now meatless bone from her mouth. A small trickle of hot sauce then dribbled from the corner of her smiling lips.
“Easy and neat,” Cayla grinned before dabbing her mouth with her napkin. “Well, almost.”
“Bravo!” King Temin applauded, and the whole table followed suit.
Immediately, a hundred lords and ladies around the table, dressed in their finery, grabbed for the wings like they hadn’t eaten in days. A small orchestra played a stately tune for our enjoyment, but I could barely hear it over the other sounds at the table. Bones snapped, lips sucked, fingers twisted flesh, teeth gnawed, and tongues slurped. It appeared I had successfully introduced one of the few things I truly missed about life on Earth to this magical realm.
Only two people I spotted on the whole table did not appear to enjoy the meal.
Shoshanne, who sat on the other side of Aurora from the king, still seemed a bundle of nerves. I remembered very clearly when, not so long ago, I was awestruck that I would actually meet a king. Fortunately for me, the king in question was Temin, not a snotty windbag who stood on ceremony. I had always treated the king of Illaria with respect, as a man of awesome power and responsibility, but I thought he liked that I was more casual and a little rough around the edges. Shoshanne did not have that confidence yet. Confidence to be herself and damn the consequences. I would have to help her with that.
The other person who did not seem to have joined in on the general merriment was a man a few seats down from me. He was about my age, but the poor fellow only had a few stray hairs on his head and an involuntary tic in his right eye. Small and thin, he wore fine golden robes that seemed to be made for a much larger person, and he didn’t talk to anyone. He merely nibbled on the raw vegetables in front of him. The gentleman to his right and the lady to his left conversed, laughed, and even shared food right over him, and he just sat there and nibbled a carrot stick. He didn’t even dip it in the ranch dressing.
“Who is the stiff?” I asked Temin.
“The--who?” Temin replied and then followed my glance. “Oh, that’s Wyresus. He’s an Aer mage and the new head of the Order I told you about. I don’t think he’s much for feasts, but let me introduce you. Wyresus Bani!”
The mage stood up and came to join us. He had a small, ingratiating smile on his face which reminded me of kiss-ass middle management back in my old job back on Earth.
“I wanted you to meet Defender Mason Flynt,” the king said and motioned to me. “Have you met before in the Oculus?”
I shook his hand with my customary vigor but was met with a clammy, soft response. The
mage pulled back as soon as I released.
“Of course, I have heard of you and your exploits,” Wyresus said while he massaged his bony little hand as if I had hurt it, “but I don’t believe our paths have crossed before. I spent most of my time in the great library, and I understand you mostly… stayed at the blacksmith’s?”
“When I first came to Serin, I was happy to be able to use Odger’s shop,” I said as I looked into Wyresus’s milk blue eyes and tried to figure out what to make of him. “Later on, I built my own workshop, where I will be going straight after this feast.”
“You won’t stay at the palace?” Temin said with a frown. “We have room for you here.”
“Thank you,” I said, truly honored by his hospitality. “Then I’ll wait until the morning to go to the workshop.”
“Would Your Majesty happen to have two spare guest rooms?” Cayla asked sweetly.
“I am sure of it,” the king replied with a laugh. “In fact, I probably have a dozen.”
I looked at Cayla curiously but didn’t have a way to ask what I wanted to. While I came up with a response, I noticed that Wyresus had stepped back as if he wanted to return to his seat.
“Have you taken Abrus’s old offices or should I look you up at the great library if I need to talk to you?” I asked quickly.
“I’m afraid I don’t know where I’ll be at any given moment,” Wyresus replied as his eyes darted to and fro, “but someone will know where to find me… probably.”
With that, the head of the Order of Elementa retreated to his seat and his half-eaten carrot.
“He’s a very smart fellow, that Wyresus,” Temin whispered. “I can see that you don’t like him.”
“I didn’t like Abrus from the moment I saw him,” I replied in a quiet tone. “I’m usually a pretty good judge of character. As far as Wyresus… the jury is still out.”
“He certainly seems to be the opposite of his predecessor,” Cayla observed.
