Amanda Applewood and the Return of the False King: An Everworld Book

by Raymond Williamson

  A flare of bright light bathed the camp with daylight as it hissed; filling the air with a thick white smoke. Through it, she could see Percy wrestling with the thick wristed man from the

  inn. They were locked together, each holding the weapon hand of

  the other as they grappled for advantage. The man was much bigger than Percy. He grinned savagely at the young warrior.

  “Give it up kid. I’ll be quick. I promise.”

  Percy collapsed backward pulling the man forward as he rolled back. He got his feet up just in time and thrust his assailant over him headlong into the shadows. The man landed with a thud and roared in pain.

  “You think you’re funny you little beggar! You’ll pay for that!”

  Percy turned and stood motionless, like a crane on a pond waiting for prey to approach. He held his sword hilt low below his waist with the blade rising upward to guard his torso. With his other hand, Amanda watched him draw a long knife from behind his back and hold it there, concealed from his attacker’s view.

  Like a bull, the larger man charged, sweeping his heavy thick sword down like a cleaver. Percy waited until it was just inches from his head before he spun away from the rushing steel. He parried the blade away with his sword. Then, as he twirled away, he slashed at the man’s back with his knife; cutting through his opponent’s leather armor and painting his blade red. Panting, the man stumbled towards a pillar and turned.

  “You’ll get away with something like that once, and once only.” he said.

  Stepping away from the pillar, the bigger man took up a more measured stance. With two hands on hilt of the sword he held the blade out before him like the prow of a tall ship. Nearly twice the length of Percy’s small-sword, to Amanda, he clearly appeared to have an advantage.

  He circled Percy who moved very little keeping his feet planted and his blade still. He feinted several times but the young guardsman didn’t bite. Becoming impatient, he brought the heavy blade back to start an overhead sweep at Percy’s weak side while lunging across the space that separated them.

  Amanda didn’t see the young man’s blade move, yet

  suddenly, a stream of blood sprayed across her and the giant sword flew past, a hand still gripping its hilt. In a blink, Percy was behind the larger man with the tip of his knife jammed up under his chin, a trickle of blood flowing down its blade.

  “Nicely done,” said a squeaky voice from behind Amanda as she felt a strong grip on her arm and cold steel across her throat.

  “Now drop your sword or I’ll split this little girl like a lamb.”

  Percy stared. Anger in his eyes, calculating his next move.

  “I could just kill your man here.”

  “Large men with angry dispositions are easy to come by. Do your worst,” said the little green man. Percy looked about to drop his weapons.

  “Percy don’t! He won’t hurt me. I’m the only thing keeping him alive.” said Amanda.

  “Shut up girl, or I’ll slash your throat.”

  “Do it then! But I hope you’re a fast runner because that‘ll be your only chance to live.”

  “I told you to shut up!”

  She felt the pressure of the blade slip away from her neck for just for a moment and just like she was shown in Sensei Tanka’s jiu-jitsu classes, the self-defense ones for girls, she reacted. Her arm went straight up through the gap that had formed between his knife and her neck; forcing it away. Quickly, she grappled his knife hand; pushing it further away. She stomped down hard on his foot, slammed her backside into his groin. Then, she twisted his knife wrist and spun under his arm flipping the g’blinken head-over-heels. He landed with a THUD! Still holding his wrist, she used the edge of her free hand to press on the back of his hand until he squealed in pain and dropped his weapon.

  “OUCH! OUCH! OUCH! You let me go or else!” he screamed.

  Amanda twisted harder. “Or else what?”

  “OWWWW! Don’t kill me.”

  “Kill you?” said Amanda. “I’m a little girl, not Katniss Everdeen.”

  Percy stepped forward and placed the point of his sword against the g’blinken’s throat. Amanda stepped back.

  “What should we do with them?” asked Percy.

  “We’ll need to see to that one before he bleeds to death,” she said, gesturing to the one-handed man lying on the ground. “You’re the soldier, can’t you bind his wound or something?”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. Of course, I’m sure. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life thinking about the guy I let bleed to death in a magical kingdom. I’ll have plenty of other reasons to be spending time on a shrink’s couch when this is over.”

  “I need some light,” said Percy.

  “Do you have any more of those flash bombs?” she asked their hostage.

  He shook his head.

  Amanda thought about the dragon, the book and her dream. Reluctantly, she looked at the dying flare. Calming herself she took deep breathes. “Light?” she said uncertainly.

  The sound of whale song, distant but approaching echoed in her thoughts. A fine yellow beam of light spread out from her fingertips and the flare burst anew with a white glow like a miniature sun that filled the interior with light.

  “Your Eminence. I didn’t know. Forgive me,” whimpered the g’blinken.

  “What should we do with them?” asked Amanda.

  “I’m within my rights to hang them from the nearest tree and be done with them,” he replied with a scowl, staring at the terrified g’blinken.

  “Ya, no. We’re not hanging anyone.”

  “Well we can’t take them with us.”

  “I suppose we’ll have to let them go.”

  Amanda looked down at the seated men who were now

  bound back-to-back.

  “Your word that you won’t follow us,” she said.

  “My word,” said the g’blinken. The man with him nodded weakly.

  “Let’s get a few hours sleep then,” suggested the boy. “I’ll take the first watch.”

  Reluctantly Amanda agreed. She curled up on her bedroll and closed her eyes; sleep came in the form of short naps. In the end she lay in the dark staring through the gap in the roof at the stars, waiting for the dawn. Like one of the statues that decorated the recesses around them, Percy sat next to her and never once attempted to wake her.

  In the morning they sent the g’blinken and the man off on foot, their horses he sent off in another direction.

  “If I see you again, I’ll kill you,” threatened Percy.

  “No. He won’t. But you will be arrested and whatever passes for judge in this world will decide what to do with you,” corrected Amanda.

  “Thank you! Your Eminence. I, Ribesal, shall extol the tale of your compassion and your fame will grow. I will commission a ballad so grand that it will be sung by bards and minstrels all across the land. Lo, wherever you travel your name and your deeds will proceed you…”

  Amanda cut him off, “Oh-My-Gawd! Don’t be so melodramatic. Just pay it forward,” she said.

  “Pay it forward? What a concept. I will do as you command. I will pay your compassion forward.”

  Otto

  Otto reached the castle while the sun was still high in the sky. He presented Percy’s note to the guard, and was promptly escorted to the Queen. She looked over the message and sat down heavily on her chaise to think. Her face was drawn, and there was an atypical uncertainty about her that the sprite noticed immediately.

  After a moment of hesitation, she perked up, as though listening to something, and summoned her general.

  Curious, the sprite found a corner and quietly hid in the shadows to witness what was about to transpire.

  Before long, a fit man in his middle years, wearing a long blue and yellow cape over a shirt of chain, appeared with his entourage. He bowed courteously and waited for the queen to speak.

  “The dragon Celestra has overstepped herself,” she said and passed him the note
.

  “Yes, your majesty.” He took the note and read it carefully. “Guardsman Garamode has shown himself to be a resourceful soldier. He has advised us of his plans. Perhaps we should send a troop to assist as he has requested.”

  “General!” shrieked Windy. “She has taken my husband’s niece and therefore my niece hostage. Such an affront cannot be tolerated. Assemble the army. We will rectify this matter.”

  “Your majesty, His Eminence has set off to deal with this. Perhaps we should wait for word,” he said as respectfully as possible.

  “General!” she commanded. “You will assemble my army and prepare to march by morning!”

  “Yes, your majesty. My sincerest apologies. Your will be done.” By the time he’d withdrawn from her presence, runners had been dispatched to begin preparations.

  When the room was empty Windy spoke into the air. Otto

  watched her have a conversation with herself. Speaking in different voices as though she were playing two parts in a play.

  “You did well to assert yourself,” she said aloud in a deep gravelly voice.

  “Yes, he was reluctant, wasn’t he?” she replied in her normal voice.

  “Perhaps you should monitor his progress. I’m not sure I trust him.”

  “Yes,” she replied in her normal voice. “I should prepare to join them.”

  “You are very wise,” replied the deep gravelly voice.

  Windimere rang a bell and an officious looking man, with an entourage of six appeared almost immediately.

  “Cuthbert, you will make preparations for me to join the army: food, clothing, my horse.”

  The attendant bowed deeply. “You heard the Queen,” he said to the others and started issuing orders.

  Otto wondered at the exchanges. He had served the royal family for many generations and had not ever witnessed such strange behavior. After careful deliberation, he decided that he would remain close to watch over the Queen and be prepared to act if needed.

  He found a place of concealment in the Queen’s quarters from where he could watch her carefully. In a flurry of activity, attendants came and went throughout the day. Clothing was prepared, and menus were discussed.

  As the day wore on, Windy seemed more and more agitated. Her dinner came and was taken away cold and uneaten. She paced her chambers and the halls of the castle overseeing preparations, interjecting herself unnecessarily in processes in an attempt to keep herself preoccupied. Otto studied her as she had several conversations with herself when there was no one else present.

  When darkness finally settled upon the castle, a calm

  from the exhaustion of a good day’s work, spread everywhere except in the Queen’s chambers. She rose from her bed several times. Each time she paced the room longer before returning to her covers. Finally, she left her apartment and wandered down to the deepest cellar that held the Eye.

  She approached the door. Otto watched as she flecked some curling paint off of the finish, then searched herself for something, first around her neck, and then her pockets. She kicked at the door and stomped her feet in a tantrum that would impress a spoiled four-year old.

  “Damn that deceitful wizard!” Otto heard her shriek, her words echoing down the empty corridor.

  “He must be keeping something from me. Could he be in league with the dragons to take over the kingdom? Would he seek to get his revenge on me for suggesting he leave Tarsinia? He’s so emotional. We have one little argument about raising our future children and he runs off to his dirty little world. Perhaps I need to put him in his place?”

  Her rant was quite animated, and she was pacing back and forth by the time she had finished speaking to the empty cellar corridors. She kicked at the door several times and pounded on it with her delicate fists.

  Unable to contain herself any longer, Windy fled up the tunnel and returned a short time later dragging a heavy war ax. When she started to hack at the door, Otto leapt in front of her.

  “Are you a traitor too?” she shouted.

  She swung the ax at the nimble creature. He easily avoided the attack and scrambled away. In a blind rage, the Queen chased him along the corridor where he was forced to find refuge in a chink barely big enough for a rat. She hacked at the stone forcing him to retreat as far as he was able. After several

  blows that rained bits of debris on the frightened sprite, she gave up and retreated, the sound of the ax scraping along the stone floor echoed ever softer as she moved away. In the distance, he heard the sound of the chopping and quietly slipped from his

  hole to watch the Windy hack away at the cell door that protected the castle inhabitants from the Eye’s powers.

  It took until almost dawn for her to hack through the thick ironbound oak door. He could see that her hands were blistered and bloody by the time she’d chopped a hole large enough for her to crawl through into the chamber of the Eye. She tore her dress, and cut her arm deeply on one of the many sharp splinters sticking out along the edge of the gap, but seemed not to notice. As though in a trance, she approached the oracle. Otto slipped from his place of concealment, to eavesdrop on the exchange between Windimere and the Eye.

  “Show me, my husband,” she commanded.

  “Will you pay my price?” asked the Eye.

  “Yes,” replied the queen.

  The glass became cloudy then cleared with a vision of the wizard slashing with a blazing sword at what appeared to be a troll. The scene of the battle continued for a long moment before the window became clear again.

  “You must go to him,” urged the Eye.

  “Yes, I must go to him,” repeated the Queen. She let ax handle slip from her hand and clatter to the floor then turned towards the exit.

  Like a sleep walker, she made her way down the hallway and up the many stairs to the castle. Otto trailed along behind her trying to decide the best course of action. He emerged behind her into a castle courtyard that was already a flurry of activity as preparations were still underway.

  Otto looked on as she found the general in the courtyard directing the preparations like a cop directing traffic on a busy corner.

  “General, my husband is in danger. We must leave at once,” she said urgently.

  Clearly alarmed by what he saw, her dress torn and

  bloody, her hands bound with rags. “Your highness, are you alright? Have you been attacked?”

  He spoke to an attendant as he guided her to a nearby stone staircase where she could sit. “Get the royal physic at once.” A pale skinned boy, no older than ten scrambled off.

  “General, I don’t have time for this. We must be off at once. I fear that we may already be too late.”

  “Even if we left the heavy weapons to follow, we’re still hours away from being ready to depart. Sit, your majesty. By the time we get you cleaned up we’ll be ready to move.” He’d unbound her hands and began to inspect her injuries. Gently, he splashed water on her palms and dabbed at the bloody mess with his handkerchief.

  “General! Enough of this!” she rose impatiently and pushed him away.

  She called to a guardsman.

  “Get me my horse!”

  The guardsman bowed and scrambled away.

  “Tessarion!” barked the General to a lookout standing on the wall. “Send a runner to the first horse. Inform Tribune Aban that they’ll be riding with the Queen. Tell him to have his line ready to follow the Queen out the gate. She means to depart within the moment.” The tessarion saluted, then dashed along the parapet towards the message tower.

  Red-faced and panting the aging physic arrived with her attendants. A lady in waiting with a riding dress draped across her outstretched arms trailed along frantically. A serving boy burdened like a mule joined them with garments, and satchels. The Queens hands were barely bound when an officer returned with her horse, a magnificent roan named Calamity.

  Without even changing from her ragged clothes, Windy extricated herself from the physic’s care and scrambled onto Calamity’
s saddle. The spirited mare rose high on two legs and whinnied with excitement then dashed towards the portcullis.

  “Open the gate!” shouted the General.

  Startled guards wound the cranks as quickly as they could but the heavy wooden gate could only rise so fast. The galloping horse showed no sign of slowing and everyone was certain the Queen was going to crash, but at the last moment she leaned forward tightly against Calamity’s neck and slipped under the sharp wooden spikes. A strip of fabric, torn from the collar of her dress wafted in the breeze as proof of how close she’d come to losing her head.

  After watching the Queen ride off, the tiny sprite made a decision. He’d need to find and inform Everett. Otto scurried out of the castle with all the speed he could manage. He made straight for the royal ponds. There found a reluctant swan and coaxed her to carry him to the wizard.

  Woods

  Amanda and Percy trudged through the woods alongside the horse. They had dismounted to allow her to rest and walked alongside her.

  “How did you know he wouldn’t hurt you?” asked Percy.

  “TV.” replied Amanda.

  “What’s Tee Vee?”

  “Do you have plays or concerts here?” asked Amanda.

  “Of course. The Mouse the Stole the Cheese is one of my favorites. My parents had the Grand Bard Merrick perform it for my coming-of-age celebration.”

  “Well we have TV. Thousands and thousands of plays, and some of them have situations like the one last night. In them, the hero never gives up his weapon to the bad guy because the bad guy can’t be trusted to honor his word.”

  “What if he slit your throat?”

  “Then he was gonna do it whether you dropped your sword or not. But, in TV shows the bad guys usually have very high self-preservation instincts.”

  “You’re very wise.”

  “You need to stop saying that. It’s annoying. I just guessed right.”