Beyond The Wall 2: Noble Intention

by Pwyll Duggan

  "Meeting of nobles, lords and all other degenerates. All rubbing shoulders and doing deals." James replies. Gerald adds.

  "Surprised we're at only one death this year, and Karloff's at that. William is getting old. Or maybe someone scares him now." He's looking straight at me, so I get the right idea.

  "Is that it? I'm the distraction?" Gerald nods.

  "You get to meet a few of these people. Do the required dancing for an hour or more, then the night is yours to make trouble." James adds.

  "Cos it sure follows you." They both laugh now, drinks raised. I grab the one in front of me, something yellow and sparkling. I raise it to join them.

  "By the Stone!" They both shout, drowning out everyone nearby. Fine. I fill my lungs.

  "BY THE STONE!" I really shout, projecting my voice as much as possible.

  There's a lull in all the nearby conversations and a ripple effect follows.

  "By the Stone!" is slowly shouted across the room, like a wave. Gerald and James are laughing, having fun at my expense. I look at my glass, eyebrows high. Gerald is cackling away.

  "Never fear, no alcohol for you." He raises his glass at me, drinking it down. "Me on the other hand."

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I look up at who has arrived. Marylou is standing there, looking radiant in a similar dress from this afternoon, with more skin showing, if that is at all possible. She's glaring at me, mouth a thin line. Her lips barely move.

  "Father. Shielder."

  Her words are cold. Her father doesn't seem to notice and waves, another drink going down.

  "Warm up's done." He shoos me away. "Look after my daughter, or she have your balls on a plate. She does this little kitty pat back and forth with them. Have Fun! Off you go!"

  No hand offers, no arm loops. She marches off, leaving me trailing behind. I pass the ducal area and she leads me to another area with its own guards, Royal this time. I'm let in and see a group of four ladies and one Princess. M is cold still, but her face changes as she addresses the Princess, voice almost normal.

  "Princess Charlotte, I present to you the new Shielder from the village of Kawaba, Paul Walsh." She curtsies and departs, basically all in one motion. I bow low, eyes to the ground.

  "Your Highness." And slowly rise.

  Everyone is quiet. Mostly watching M as she leaves, wondering looks on their faces. The Princess is in all silver. More of a robe than a dress, leaving her arms free. Everything is covered, and she has a hood hanging down her back. Her blonde hair is done in one long plat, running down her neck, hanging to the front. She's slightly plump, the look of a reader/gamer than someone who goes outside. Pale-ish skin, wide eyes tinged with red. She's really tired or has been reading a lot in bad light. Probably both. Small lips painted with silver matching the robe and a small button nose. She can't be more than 16 or 17 years old.

  Next to her are twins, or two girls playing the part, just swapping primary colours. Straight cropped black hair, bangs trimmed in a straight line over their eyes with the sides and back just reaching their high collared dresses in the Chinese style, one red, one blue. Uncovered arms, elbow length gloves ending in metallic bracers and clear hands. Straight down cut neckline, exposing all until their hips. Dress ends above the knees, matching boots for their colour heading down from there. The odd thing is the dual holsters, holding swept rapier guards on long wands.

  A tall lady sits to the other side, long mousy brown hair, teased open. Strong face and eyes, watching everywhere. Long Brown dress, covering the arms and the back of the wrists, hooking over her middle finger on each arm. The dress is straight, hardly matching what curves I can see. Twin short shorts are at her waist. Boots with no visible socks on her feet, heels pushing three inches or more.

  The last is the only one looking at me, eyes boring into me. Short, very short blonde buzz cut with hair coming down in front of her ears, reaching the end of her hard jaw. Silver eyes, short nose that appears to have been broken once, never set properly. Breaks the symmetry of her face, maker her less unworldly, less ethereal. Knife ears jut out of her head, almost touching the person next to her. No lipstick at all or make up. Her dress is a halter style tied behind her neck, running downwards, thinly, sides of her breasts visible. The dress splits down both sides, from above her waist making it clear nothing is underneath. She has no shoes on her feet at all, toes tapping away to an unheard beat.

  "You killed a Night One?" she's sneering at me, glancing up and down, finding me wanting from then look in her eyes.

  "One? No." Her sneer goes wider.

  "I told yo..." I cut her off.

  "Total is at three. In 7 days." I capture her gaze.

  "You?" she looks away and the tall lady laughs, loud and hard.

  "Ha - told you Sara. Back of the line you go." The princess comes back to the conversation with that.

  "Mish, please. Not in front of an untested guest." Her voice is commanding and soft. Used to giving orders. And having them followed to the letter. She stands and extends her hand.

  "Lord Shielder. Many thanks for ridding the Royal line of my step-brother." Hesitantly I extend my hand and we shake.

  Halfway thru the shake she pulls me in close, shooting questions in rapid succession.

  "How many snotlings, goblins and orcs have you killed? Ogres? Lamia? Centaurs? Giant animals? Any Wyverns? Liches? Witches? How about giants? Snakes? Forest Spirits?" Mish, the tall lady, covers her mouth, pulling her down.

  "Seriously girl, there's a reason a bookworm like you has no friends - you don't let them breathe."

  She does a short bow.

  "Please take my seat and answer her questions for the next," she turns to a large clock on the far wall, giant pendulum swinging away. "25 minutes. I'm getting drinks, then wasted. Tee? You coming?" The twins both get up and follow.

  What is this - anime reject Princess adventure time? Sara proves this by leaping up, landing on the back of the couch, bare feet walking past the Princess and jumping back on the couch, legs crossed, leaving me the space to sit. She then sits, trying to, and failing, to smile. I sit down, and the grilling starts.

  Charlotte is a true bookworm. Daddies youngest daughter and the littlest Princess, Sara grabbing her boobs to make the point perfectly clear, my head spinning between them both. Somewhere after she asks me on the size of snotlings, and whether I can catch one for her and before she asks how heavy Ogres really are, Mish drops a few trays of food and drink down. The Twins take her to another seat, and they drink and eat in silence, Mish trying to sleep, Twins leaning on each other, doing the same.

  I just answer as she goes on, not getting a word in edgewise. Sara is poking and prodding me from being, trying my patience until I get Doll to slap her hands, making her yelp and leap back.

  "What the?" I turn to her.

  "What you deserve. Go sit where I can see you." I point to where she was.

  "Fine." And she goes over there to sulk.

  I must spend minutes describing goblins and orcs to her as an orchestra starts tuning up, finally get in one question for myself.

  "Why aren't you all dressed up like everyone else?" she just answers as if it's nothing.

  "We were staking out a graveyard, looking for undead. We only got back in time to show up, no time to get changed. Uncle Marc was not impressed. I think I'm grounded." M is back, looking even more gorgeous, and in the same vein even more angry at me.

  "Time to get ready your Highness." She says, walking past me, getting the Princess up. She brushes her robes down, straightening the folds, making it look somewhat better. Given the fact that she's not perfect, it looks really good. Really good. She's no fighter like everyone else here. Hopefully she's more than just a reader. I stand next to her and whisper.

  "Can you cast spells?" her head bows a little, M staring at me, watching me like a hawk.

  "Few Light-based spells, a little healing. Nothing beyond tier two." I grin.

  M's shaking her head as I tak
e the Princess hand, three white flashes going off. Sara tenses, M is even more annoyed and I'm going to have fun. Charlotte's eyes click.

  "Enhancement stream! You can cast too." I cast again, laying Fly on her and she's smiling along as we walk hand in hand to the dance floor, Duke and Duchess in front of us. I whisper.

  "Follow my lead, then let's drift slowly upward." She's ecstatic, giggling with nervous energy.

  The music starts, drowning out everything. It's a fast waltz and I resist a fist pump. The Duke and Duchess hit the floor gracefully. They swing around the large area, most of the middle is now dance floor, gliding with grace and obvious comfort. At their third pass Charlotte jitters out and I grab her close, closer than I need to and whisper.

  "Let it flow. You're now stronger and more graceful than ever. Use it."

  We start slowly, getting the feel of each other. A little wobbly, then she sighs, and I guide her faster. It sticks, and by the end of the first turn of the whole floor she has it. The second turn she's smiling, as graceful as the Duchess, being watched by all. I get her ready.

  "Now it'll carry you. We both take a small step up, like on stairs and keep dancing." I hope this works, taking her weight. She almost stumbles, covering it well. It works, and we are flying. Most don't notice, Sara smiling and getting another look from Marylou.

  We pass the Duke and take two more steps up, now clearly flying. I overhear the Duke.

  "Shit, why didn't I think of that."

  And we're passed them, going higher. The crowd is enamoured, and the Princess is a joy to behold. She starts laughing, a little at first, then constantly, having too much fun. By now we are 20 feet in the air and the dance floor is being filed, dancers copying our pace, following us around. Following the laughter.

  She's really having fun, and I am enjoying myself. The Duke and Duchess have left the dance floor 2 or 3 songs ago. The tempo changes and a slower song comes to the fore. I swing us close to the guards and spin down together, landing on my knees, hand up for her to step down to the ground. The crowd stops in places and claps, Charlotte jumping in joy and waving at all. I put an arm out, taking exaggerated deep breaths as a group of women come forward, all rushing for their turn.

  "Let me have a break and I will be out again. Just not airborne for long, okay. That's more a Royal dance." I hear a few awws and not fairs and I go to walk back to the VIP lounge, as I call it.

  There's the sound of breaking glass and someone leaps off a balcony opposite the VIP area, plate mail hitting the ground, all bright and shiny. He stands and runs forward, shoulder charging past a guard. Arms wide I stand in front of the Princess, watching everyone panic and flee. The blonde mop of hair on a young man’s face is what I see, and he draws a heavy broadsword and points it at my head, fully stretched out, trying to make a point.

  The blade bursts into flames and the young man yells.

  "YOU. KILLED. MY. UNCLE!"

  Fuck Royalty. HARD.

  Chapter 20

  This fresh face kid is over extended, unbalanced and in some seriously pretty armour. Nothing looks out of place, all shiny and very nicely embossed with golden filigree. None of that helps him as Charlotte screams,

  "Don't!"

  She looks beyond me, and I pounce, same trick as earlier in the day. I let my fingers burn, running them along the blade, grabbing the cross guard as I pull and step in. Shoulder goes low into that wonderfully over-the-top breastplate, slightly denting it as my elbow whips around, making his face no longer perfect. I make sure I'm light, not killing this kid. As he falls to the ground from the follow up kick to the knee, I hold his sword up high and step back.

  I walk in a circle near him and start shouting.

  "OKAY, who gave this child a sword and thought that was a good idea. All Parents know - DON'T GIVE THE BABY A KNIFE."

  The crowd all turns as one, looking at the VIP area. All eyes go to Duke William. I should have known. The kid is stirring, shaking his head. Guards have rushed Charlotte away, Sara at her side in a dart, hands down and ready, some sort of open martial arts stance.

  I point it at Duke William.

  "Oh, it's your knife. Here." I spin my arm, looking like I'm going for an underarm throw. He dives for cover. I put my back into it, sending the sword straight upwards, flying up the three stories and sticking half the blade in the ceiling.

  "Whoops, Sorry. You'll have to get that yourself Duke William." The kids up behind me, drawing daggers from his boots.

  Ducal guards are rushing forward, Marylou among them, blades out. I wave them off with a low hand and a wink.

  "Seriously kid." I keep my voice loud, so all can hear. "You're what? 12? 13?" He's still all red faced, veins popping out. Shit, he's gonna have a heart attack. Fuck it - too bad for him.

  "I"M 16! You killed Karloff!" I put my hand up, stopping him as I talk.

  "You mean the RAPING MURDERER that I stopped this morning! The one NO ONE ELSE DID." The crowd reacts to that, some heads looking down.

  "Who Cares. It was only a serv..." I see red and strike, sliding in with a palm strike before he brings his daggers up, breaking his nose again. I grab left and right wrist, twisting both outwards and NOT STOPPING. Bones shatter and daggers fall to the ground. I grab his armour at the neck, dragging him to my face as he screams in pain.

  "THEY ARE BETTER THAN YOU. YOUR JOB IS TO PROTECT THEM! NOT ABUSE THEM!" My hand goes back, making a fist and someone lightly touches it.

  I turn and almost punch. The Duchess is there, a sword at her side, hand on my fist. She looks worried and a little frightened.

  "I've got this." Is all she says quietly to me, screams fading to the background. I nod, lift the kid up high, taking his sword belt off and drop him, crashing to the ground. I walk away, tying the sword belt on and leap up. I take the sword out of the ceiling, dropping straight down as the crowd parts, sliding the sword into its scabbard. I head out of the glass doors, servants rushing to pull them open and out onto the patio and into the silence of the night.

  I stare out and breathe, trying desperately to calm myself. I force myself to breathe in and out, slowing my heart and bottling the rage for later. I know I'll need it. I should have grabbed a drink. After a while, the music resumes and the ball continues. I lean on the marble rails, then jump up and sit on it, legs kicking back and forth, brushing against hedges in the twilight.

  The sliding of silk on marble tells me I'm no longer alone. I resist the urge to fly off and keep breathing, deep and long. I bow my head, not caring who it is and speak softly.

  "Starting to think General Mattis from my world had it right. He said 'Be Polite. Be professional. And have a plan to kill everyone you meet.'" I sigh again, looking up and the strange sky. "That's where I am right now. No idea who I can trust anymore. As much as I want to. I have no information at all from which to make decisions. None."

  The Duchess speaks. "I promise you will get that tomorrow. It was already planned. We, we just thought you could have one good night first. I am truly sorry for my brother-in-law. Marcus is laying down the law now, sending him home as soon as possible." She sighs.

  "War is coming, a lot faster than we thought. And you happened to appear as it is all coming to a head." Her hand rests on my shoulder. "We need you to come back in and dance." I breath in, get up and turn to her.

  "Sure. Right. Duty and all that." She cringes at that, sadness in her eyes. "Maybe one of these girls won't see me as a piece of meat. Or a source of reference material."

  We hook arms and head back in, straight to a slower waltz.

  "No flying." She smiles at me and my mood is slowly changing.

  "You never told me your name Duchess. I know it's not protoc..."

  "Diana, Paul. Call me Di in private."

  "Okay, Di it is."

  We keep dancing, drawing a few glances, few looks and way more hungry stares than I was happy for. While dodging one of those stares there is a gentle tap on my arm.

  "I'm cutting in and taki
ng my wife back Lord Walsh. I'll trade you a Captain though."

  He puts my arm in Rose's and takes off with his wife. I slowly grasp Rose in the right places, not sure where to put my eyes. Instead I just gaze into her eyes, drifting off into the dance.

  She leans in, head on my chest, moving my hand to hugging her. Leading arms go in close and when end up just stepping back and forth in, more hug than dance.

  "Thank you, my monster. I need you, your hardness, your, your." She stops. "You. I needed my friend the monster, then one who protects people and isn't all grabs." I rest my head on hers, chin in her hair.

  "I can do grabs if you like. Pretty sure I would be good at that." A faint laugh comes up from my chest.

  "Well you are getting in a bit of practice. On a real-life Princess, no less." I kiss her hair and nod into it, Rose stiffening a little. I care not on what looks we get. She softens to me again.

  "Are we friends Rose?" I feel the yes as her head moves on my chest. "Then please just tell me if you need anything, okay? I need friends. And you can seriously fight. That is so cool." She nods in my chest again, adding a yawn.

  "I'll get you an escort, so you can rest. It's been a long couple of days."

  She stands back up, yawning and I gesture to the Ducal guards. Moving off to the side of the room as I do so.

  "See the Captain gets to her rooms so she can sleep. We've been up for a few days" Four of the Guards salute as they surround her and take her away, yawning again as she goes.

  I watch her leave and start smelling cooking meat. Oh yes, meat. BBQ and roasting, ahh and some sauces. A servant goes past, heading to a curtained off booth. Servants are serving on both sides, food flowing freely from hidden kitchens, matching the wine and ales. I look around, dodging arms and groups, heading back the way to the VIP lounge. I drift away from crowds, stay a little low and even consider popping invis just to be left alone.

  I spot the girth of Duke William, a way away from the VIP area, arguing with an older woman. I'm saying older and she would be my real age, late 30's early 40's. Next to her is a small petite girl, no more than 18, in tears. She had good make-up and hair, but that’s all gone now. She wouldn't win any beauty contest, especially on this world, but there's a spark there. It's her eyes. Not the puffy parts from crying, but the depth and crystal clearness of them. Something mother and daughter both share.