Camelot Resurgent

by Galen Wolf

  ‘And Bernard?’

  ‘Under her control.’

  ‘You weren’t seduced by the bikini?’

  He contemplates this for a while and says ‘No, as a saint, her womanly curves had no effect on me. But her spells did.’

  I’m quiet for a while then I say, ‘We need a plan.’

  He nods sagely. ‘It’s all that enchantment magic. I wasn’t expecting it.’

  ‘Have you got anything to counter it?’

  ‘There are skills in the Divinity Skillset that might work. I’ll take a look. It’s just we were so unprepared.’

  ‘Spirit was all right, I take it?’ I ask as he retreats into his HUD, his eyes looking upward at text I can’t see.

  He says, ‘Sorry, Gorrow, I don’t know. I was blind then dead in pretty short order. I saw you go, but I wasn’t paying a lot of attention to your horse.’

  They’d better not have hurt Spirit. I don’t know what the witches could do to him, but they will have my eternal vengeance if they’ve hurt my horse.

  Then Fitheach says, ‘Hmm. There’s Mind-Shield, which looks like it would give protection. But that’s high up and I haven’t got it. There’s a lower one that I have got called Divine Saves. That gives 10% protection against Enchantments.’

  ‘10%? That’s not much.’

  ‘Best I’ve got, I’m afraid.’

  ‘How long does it last?’

  ‘One minute per character level. So that’s twenty minutes.’

  ‘That’ll do. Let’s go.’

  ‘That’s the plan?’

  ‘Yeah, we get there, cast Divine Saves and then hack the witch down.’

  ‘Apparently there’s more than one witch.’

  ‘We hack them all down.’

  I look at my feet. ‘Hmm.’

  Fitheach reaches over and pats the Clitheroe Milestone. ‘See you soon, old friend.’ Then he cackles his saintly laugh, and we set off on the road to the Witches’ Cottage.

  We take longer by foot. We are in the wood and the lights of the cottage glimmer ahead. The out-of-place streetlamp is still on because it’s still night. I hold up a hand. ‘Quietly now Fitheach.’

  ‘It’s you who’s the most clanky of the two of us, really,’ he says.

  He has a point. I do my best to go silently in my armour, but I’m no rogue. I skulk forward as quietly as I can, and when we’re within yards of the clearing, I ask him to cast the saves spell on me.

  With a nod, he mutters divine syllables and does a little thing with his fingers that I’m guessing is a necessary part of the spell, unless he just enjoys doing it.

 

  So we step forward, slightly better prepared this time. I can’t really see over the stone wall that surrounds the pond, but I don’t think Tye is still floating there asleep. There’s no sign of Bernard or the witch either. The cottage looks homely. It is in fact made of gingerbread with icing round the windows and doors. I turn and see Fitheach just behind me. He’s brandishing the slender wooden stave he uses. He shrugs and hisses ‘No witches,’ loud enough for someone half a mile away to hear. No, there are no signs of the witches. I creep to the edge of the clearing, trying to keep out of the pool of light cast by the street lamp or the glow that spills from the mullioned glass windows, which I am guessing are actually made of spun sugar.

  Then there’s a noise behind me and I hear Fitheach grunt and cry, ‘You swine!’ As I turn, his head is enveloped in a cloud of Glitterdust and there’s a sexy young witch in a metal bikini, but it’s not the witch I saw earlier, this one is auburn-haired. Fitheach flails around with his stave but his head completely surrounded in glitter and any magic words he’s uttering are muffled by the glitter cloud.

  I take in the witch. Yes, she’s beautiful and alluring, but I am going to have to chop her down. I draw my sword and the multi-coloured magic flames hiss and whisper comfortingly round its blade. I decide to forego my battle cry and just rush her. She sees me coming, and mutters, ‘Hold!’

  All of a sudden, I feel my limbs stop working. I stand stock-still, sword in hand.

 

  I guess my ten percent resistance didn’t work then.

  Celestria commands: ‘Sheathe sword.’ And I do.

  She looks to Fitheach and does the same with him. It appears he too is now under control. The glitter cloud dissipates, and he looks blankly out from his old eyes. She speaks again. ‘Walk.’

  I move forward and she has to order me to turn until I’m facing the cottage. My plan didn’t go very well at all. The young witch Celestria marches Fitheach and I towards the gingerbread cottage. As we get close the witch we first saw opens the door. ‘Hello, Celestria, who do you have here?’ she says to our red-haired captor.

  The blonde looks me up and down and says, ‘If it isn’t the handsome and dashing Sir Gorrow, and the wizened Saint Fitheach. We were expecting you two back.’

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Fitheach struggle with his mouth as if he wants to object to being called wizened, but he can’t get the words out without Celestria allowing him to.

  Celestria says, ‘Oh, Morgana, they were so easy to control. I don’t think they’ve got any defences at all.’

  I’m fuming inside. Yes, we have: 10% defence.

  Over Morgana’s shoulder I see that there is a roaring fire blazing in the cottage’s interior. There are comfy looking leather seats and a cat with green eyes observes me lazily. There’s another two witches, both beautiful, both wearing metal bikinis and they’re sitting on a leather sofa, drinking tea and eating seed cake. They are fully engaged in a light-hearted conversation with Tye and Bernard.

  Tye looks up and says, ‘Yowzer, it’s Sir Gorrow and his trusty wizened sidekick, Saint Fitheach.’

  Bernard has a piece of seed cake up to his mouth. He looks at me and grins. ‘Gorrow! Nice to see you, pal. As I was just expressing to these charming young ladies, this seed cake actually buffs you!’

  17

  The Tale of Mr Treacle

  ‘Yes, this seed cake is super,’ Bernard says with his mouth full. ‘Dystonia made it.’ He points at a winsome blonde witch on the sofa who bats her long eyelashes in my direction. I’m made of sterner stuff than Bernard, you won’t see me falling for their charms. Then I realise I’m technically under an enchantment already and I sigh to myself.

  ‘Let him go, Celestria,’ the blonde one orders.

  I recognise the voluptuous blonde as the one who threw glitterdust in my eyes just before Bernard killed me. I think they call the blonde Morgana. Whatever the issue, she seems to be in charge.

  Tye laughs long and loud at some joke the thin blonde witch on the sofa whispered to him. Then he says, ‘Watch this everybody!’ He ignites a flame from his left thumb. I know what’s coming, but I haven’t yet been released from the charm so I can’t tell him not to do it. With the fire burning from his thumb, he bends forward, throws up the skirt of his blue wizard’s robe and lights his fart.

  The girls are not impressed. ‘Gross,’ mutters Morgana.

  ‘Eww, you dog!’ says Celestria from behind me.

  The one who made the cake, Dystonia grunts, ‘A pig like all men.’

  Bernard says, ‘You’re a total idiot, Tye.’

  And Fitheach doesn’t say anything because he’s a thrall of the witch still. Celestria clicks her fingers, and releases me.

  My limbs are my own again. I consider hacking all around and killing them but it seems they can control us all pretty easily so it wouldn’t come to much. The fact that Bernard and Tye are guests rather than prisoners, must mean the witches are up to something. I can’t believe they would switch from wanting us dead to feeding us seed cake on a whim.

  A shapely brunette witch appears at my right with a glass cake stand. On the cake stand lies a luscious-looking cake. ‘Seed cake?’ She asks. ‘By the way, I’m Am
azonia,’ and she reaches out and grabs my mailed gauntlet and gives it a squeeze of welcome. She’s stronger than she looks.

  Fitheach leans forward from behind and takes a slice. ‘Don’t mind if I do.’ Then he raises his eyebrow in pleased surprise and says, ‘You should try some, Gorrow. It’s really good.’

  So far the makers of Camelot, amazing as they are, haven’t advanced far enough to allow simulate the sense of taste. I bite into the cake anyway and I get a message:

 

  That’s pretty cool really. The boss witch, the blonde bombshell known as Morgana, stands in her metal bikini, the diamonds twinkling in the yellow light from the fire. ‘We’re the Pendle Witches. I’m Morgana, High Priestess.’ She points to the brunette witch with the cake stand. ‘That’s Amazonia, our healer.’

  ‘And so much more, babe,’ Amazonia grins.

  Morgana winks. ‘And so much more.’ Then she turns to Celestria behind me and says, ‘Thi is Celestria, who captured you.’

  Celestria gives a wild grin and shakes one hand manically. ‘Hi guys! You got beat up on by a girl!’

  ‘And what a girl!’ Bernard says, wide eyed, closely observing the sheen on her metal bikini.

  Morgana finishes by turning to the slim blonde sitting by Tye. ‘And that’s Dystonia.’

  Dystonia gives a quiet nod and I can’t help but notice how clear and lovely her green eyes are. They’re like a dew-touched shamrock on an Irish summer morning. Then I clear my head. There’s still some enchantment in this gingerbread house and I don’t want to get taken in by it.

  ‘So, you’re a guild?’ Bernard asks, reaching for more seed cake. I wonder if the buffs stack with every slice, but decide not to test the theory.

  Morgana says, ‘Yes, a small and select guild. Only we four.’

  Amazonia says, ‘And we want to keep it that way.’

  I say, ‘I wasn’t thinking of applying. I wouldn’t suit the bikinis.’

  Dystonia scowls and Morgana hurries us along. ‘Anyways, handsome knight, you haven’t told us who you are.’

  ‘I did,’ says Bernard.

  Morgana points. ‘But he hasn’t, and he’s clearly the boss.’

  Tye nods sagely. ‘You are the boss, boss.’

  I lift my visor. ‘I am Sir Gorrow of the Bloody Field.’

  Morgana cocks her head. Dystonia watches quietly. Amazonia is arranging the remaining slices of seedcake on the cake stand and I can’t see Celestria, but I can feel her grin boring into the back of my head. ‘Soooo,’ Morgana drawls. ‘You sound like a Knight of the Round Table or something. Am I right?’

  I nod.

  ‘But you’re far from home, lover boy,’ Morgana says.

  I let the lover boy rest where it lands and say nothing in reply.

  ‘And far from friends,’ Amazonia says.

  ‘Hey,’ Tye says as if thinking of something for the first time. ‘Are you aligned with the Evil One? Just asking.’

  Morgana smiles. ‘We have an understanding. He leaves us alone and we leave him alone.’

  Celestria blurts from behind me, ‘But we are good aligned, just non-aligned with the King, you know?’

  Dystonia says, ‘The King never did anything for us, so why should we do something for him?’

  I say, ‘That’s not the point. All citizens of Logres owe allegiance to King Arthur and when it comes to time of war, you should be sending him your aid.’

  ‘Is that why you tried to kill us?’ Morgana says, admiring her black gel fingernails that are inlaid with sparkling rhinestones.

  ‘We didn’t try to kill you, girls,’ Bernard tries to explain but Morgana’s having nothing of it.

  ‘I’d say coming into our clearing, approaching our gingerbread house with swords drawn is an indication of trying to kill us.’

  Dystonia says, ‘Problem is you just weren’t very good at it.’

  I’m glad I’m wearing my helmet, because they’d see my blush of shame. The truth was we had been so inept at our attempt to take on the Pendle Witches, it was a disgrace.

  ‘No,’ Tye says, ‘See, we didn’t want to kill you?’

  Morgana turns to him. Dystonia reaches to pat his knee.

  ‘No,’ Tye continues. ‘See, we were given this quest by this dwarf miner.’

  ‘The Quest of the Adamantine Bikinis?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Tye says, ‘How did you know?’

  This exchange has gone on so fast that only now does Bernard take away the seed cake slice from his mouth and blurt, ‘Shut your trap, Tye.’

  I say to Morgana. ‘So this has happened before?’

  She nods. ‘Of course. Many adventurers have come up here wanting to steal our bikinis—’

  ‘And strip us naked.’ Dystonia winks at Tye who she seems to have taken a shine too. He blinks, looking suddenly hot and bothered by the images conjured into his mind by Dystonia’s words.

  ‘Yeah, to steal our bikinis,’ the brunette Amazonia repeats, no longer preoccupied with the cake. I begin again to wonder what the hell was in that cake. If there was something insidious, surely my HUD would have given me a warning. On impulse, I check my HUD. On the stats page I see a red line that has appeared without being flashed up as an alert.

 

  So that’s what’s in the cake. The +5 skills is just a cover. When I return my attention to the room, they’re still talking about bikinis. Dystonia is saying, ‘So there’s two sides to every story, Tye.’ She’s rubbing Tye’s leg through his robe.

  Morgana says, ‘Yes, that filthy little dwarf Ned Ludd did make these wonderful bikinis.’

  I say, ‘And he claims you never paid him.’

  Amazonia’s pretty face flashes in anger. ‘That’s not true. We did pay him.’

  Morgana says, ‘Just not in cash.’

  ‘Oh?’ Fitheach says, taking an interest for the first time.

  Morgana says, with tears in her eyes, ‘You wouldn’t understand the depths that Ned Ludd is capable of. He’s a most depraved man.’

  ‘Dwarf,’ Fitheach says. ‘Not wanting to be pedantic and all, but it’s best to get these things right.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Morgana says.

  ‘So how did you pay, Ned Ludd?’ I ask.

  Red-headed Celestria comes from behind, me squeezing past to sit on the arm of the sofa. The black cat with green eyes wakes up and starts to purr. There’s an embarrassed silence in the room, or at least I think it’s embarrassment. The logs crackle on the fire. The candles glint from the diamonds on the girls bikinis.

  ‘Lewd images,’ Morgana says finally. ‘I’m not proud of it, but that’s what he wanted.’

  ‘And these are amazing bikinis,’ Amazonia says.

  Morgana goes on. ‘He said we needn’t pay in gold if we just allowed him to capture a stream of us cavorting with each other.’

  ‘Filth!’ Fitheach exclaims suddenly, sputtering seed cake everywhere. ‘You cheap harlots!’

  Dystonia snaps, ‘Shut your cakehole, old man. How come it’s always the chicks that get the blame? We did it for the bikinis.’

  ‘Repent at once,’ Fitheach says. ‘I will hear your confessions girls, if you can rig up somewhere private. One at a time.’

  Morgana gives a loud, filthy laugh. ‘I’ve heard that one before.’ Then she shakes her head. ‘No, we did what we did, and it’s done.’

  Bernard asks, ‘What happened to all the other adventurers who came here in search of the bikinis?’

  ‘They died.’

  Dystonia says, ‘And that’s what we were going to do to you.’ Then she smiles at Tye and tickles him under his chin. ‘But not this little one. I like him.’

  Tye sniggers and Bernard mutters, ‘Idiot.’

  ‘So why didn’t you kill us?’ I ask.

  Morgana says, ‘Well, we did kill you.’

  ‘We were just going to do it again, and again and every time you came back here without giv
ing up on your stupid quest,’ Dystonia says.

  Celestria continues to stroke the cat who stares at me inscrutably.

  ‘So, why didn’t you?’ I ask.

  ‘Well,’ Morgana says, ‘It occurred to me that you might be able to help us out.’

  ‘Oh?’ I ask. ‘Why would we do that?’

  She shrugs and grins, ‘Because you like us?’

  I’m not sure I do. I certainly don’t trust them.

  ‘Harlots and Jezebels,’ Fitheach mutters into the nape of my neck, still spitting seeds and bits of cake. ‘Don’t believe a word such loose women say.’

  ‘Listen,’ I say. ‘We have a quest to accomplish. I admit we weren’t prepared for your enchantments.’

  ‘Clearly,’ Dystonia says and Amazonia and Celestria titter behind their delicate hands. Even the cat even seems to laugh quietly to itself.

  I ignore their interruption. ‘But if we can’t do the quest, then we’ll just head off.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Morgana says menacingly.

  I growl. ‘What? You’ll keep us here?’

  Dystonia says, ‘I want to keep my little fire mage.’

  ‘I’ll have the old white-haired one,’ Amazonia says leering at Fitheach who blusters, ‘Get ye behind me witch!’ But there’s a strange look in his eye.

  Amazonia smiles. ‘If that’s what you want, grandpa.’

  Fitheach’s rage is building up. I think it’s his rage anyway.

  I cough. I might as well find out what they want. ‘So what do you want from us?’

  Bernard’s face is deathly pale. ‘Isn’t that obvious?’

  I stare at Morgana. She says, ‘There’s a little quest you can do for us.’

  I groan. This is getting stupid. First the Robin Hood quest we failed at, then the Ned Ludd quest we failed at and now another we might well fail at. All the time, the enemy are besieging the King and I need to get to help him.

  I shake my head firmly. ‘We don’t have the time. We need to get to King Arthur.’

  Morgana says, ‘We won’t let you go unless you do the quest.’