by Scott Baron
Karl kept his smile to himself as best he could and went to fetch the men. Leila had grown on all who interacted with her over the months. At first, they were more than slightly uneasy with the odd, slightly green woman. Most had assumed she was ill and might not last the season.
But sunlight did her well, and her faint green darkened to a warm olive complexion within weeks, and with it, her overall appearance shifted to the picture of exotic, but Earthly, health. Added to that, she was young, she was fit, and above all of that, she seemed to possess a genuine care for those around her.
When word got out that she had been raised by a man of the land, not a royal, the people warmed to her even more. And when she had dug around in the muck, helping shift crops and till soil, while many were shocked that she would lower herself so, they nevertheless felt a connection to her, even if they might simultaneously disapprove. She was one of them, even if she came from far away.
Baloo took his usual place at her side as they jogged the trail to visit the local farms. Bawb had told her to ride a horse, as was expected of her, but running was something she had done all her life. It felt good to stretch her legs, and her rambunctious pup enjoyed trotting along with her.
The men following on foot had given up trying to keep an even pace, knowing by now that she was wont to sprint up a hill for no reason from time to time. That their queen could undoubtedly best any of them in the physical training the king had them engaging in proved to be both a source of inspiration to train harder, as well as developing a deeper respect for her.
The guard spaced their horses out, several riding ahead to clear the way, the rest leapfrogging from the flanks and rear of her retinue. Leila just kept on at her own pace, reveling in the glory of nature. The planet wasn’t so different from her own, all told, and she’d grown to appreciate it with each passing day.
“Baloo, fetch!” she said, hurling a stick as far as she could.
Her canine fur baby took off in a flash, bounding over shrubs and rocks in his pursuit. The men all laughed at his shenanigans. While the utterly enormous animal could easily kill them all, he knew them now, and so long as they didn’t pose a threat to his mother, he treated them as just another part of his pack.
From the nearby woods, however, a pair of curious ursine eyes watched the woman on foot. Men on horses were a difficult meal, with all of that metal and their pointed sticks. But the woman was at ground level, and unarmed. And she wore only fabric, not shiny steel.
The bear’s stomach grumbled. Yes, a meal would be good, and he could grab her easily enough the way all of the big men on horses were spaced out. In fact, any second he could just––
A massive beast with a mouthful of sharp teeth trotted back to the woman, a large stick in its mouth. Carrying the hunk of wood had exposed just how big its teeth truly were. Big, and sharp, and myriad.
Baloo turned and looked into the shadows of the woods with his piercing gaze. The bear knew from years of hunting that the humans didn’t possess the vision to see him in the shadows. This new adversary and he, however, locked eyes in an instant.
He didn’t bark, and he didn’t growl, but for the briefest of moments, Baloo flashed his canines in warning. This woman was protected.
The bear briefly considered its odds and found itself not liking them. Not at all. This was no ordinary dog. Nor was it a simple wolf. It was far, far larger, and he found himself experiencing the rare sensation of doubt. For once, he wasn’t the biggest, baddest thing in the woods.
The bear wisely turned and lumbered deeper into the trees, deciding to look for an easier meal.
“What is it Baloo?” Leila asked, noting his stare into the woods. “You see a rabbit?”
Instead of racing off in pursuit of game as he was wont to do, Baloo stayed at her side a while, trotting along with her, casually staying close as he scanned the treeline.
The famers she passed during her walk were all glad to see her, but one in particular was thrilled at her arrival. The recently-burned fields had been tilled, and the rows of replanted crops had taken shape. A few sprouts had even begun poking up through the fresh mounds of soil. And for Baloo they had even saved a massive leg bone from a steer they had slaughtered and sold at market.
“Thank you so much!” the queen gushed as they presented the gift to her canine pal.
“It’s the least we could do, Majesty. With your help––and your dragon friend, of course––the fields have turned a corner and seem to be recovering their former health. We have you to thank for this fortuitous turn of events.”
“I’m thrilled it’s working out for you,” she said, watching Baloo happily gnaw on the bone. “Now be careful, Baloo. Don’t go breaking it. You’ll poke your cheeks.”
“Oh, Majesty, it was a fine steer, study and well-built. I doubt even one as big as he could break––“
A crunching snap stopped them in mid-sentence. Baloo, however, didn’t cease his gnawing, focusing now on the portion of the thick femur he had broken free.
“Dear Lord. The strength of him!” the farmer exclaimed.
“Yeah, he’s a big boy, that’s for sure.”
“We are fortunate he is your Majesty’s protector. Any who would challenge your wolf would find themselves in a dire condition. No offense,” he added, blushing as he addressed Karl and the other guards.
“None taken,” he replied with a warm smile. “We are all here to ensure the queen’s safety, and knowing Baloo will protect her to the death makes all of us glad for his presence.”
She was a queen of the people and loved by all, despite her somewhat unconventional ways. She had come a long way from her life as a slave and animal keeper in a distant galaxy, but the groundskeeper’s daughter had found her niche, as unlikely as it was. Leila only wished her father could see her now.
But that was impossible. He hadn’t been born yet, and wouldn’t for a few thousand years.
Maybe I’ll catch you next time around, she thought, the idea of somehow meeting her father again warming her heart.
If Ara proved successful in devising a spell that would take them forward in time, perhaps she would see his smiling face again, one day. If they managed to move forward in time. Back to where they belonged. It was all theoretical, of course. She still had to figure out not only how to get back to the right time, but also to her own galaxy.
The odds were stacked against them, and none of them really thought they’d succeed, but working the problem at least gave them all a little sense of hope. Though the longer they stayed in this strange time and place, the more it grew on them. Leila couldn’t help but wonder if one day, given the choice, they wouldn’t choose to stay.
Chapter Twenty-Two
While Leila had taken to accepting her guards as an unneeded, but required, part of her daily outings, Charlie had found himself increasingly annoyed at the lack of any alone time. ‘Me’ time for the sometimes-introverted king was exceedingly rare. But all he wanted to go out in nature alone to walk the hills and think. To recharge his mental batteries with relaxing silence, as he so often did before stumbling into this strange new life.
With a few tricks he had learned from Bawb, Charlie was able to piece together a reasonable disguise, one which he could shed quickly should the need to prove who he was actually arise. He didn’t want his own guards attacking him while he snuck back into his own castle, after all. Fortunately, that hadn’t happened. At least, not yet.
“Sire, this. My Liege, that. It’s exhausting. I don’t know how celebrities can stand it. It’s overwhelming,” he grumbled as he snuck out the small door at the base of the castle’s wall. “I guess it just takes a special kind of person to crave fame at the price of privacy. Not worth it, in my opinion.”
When he had first taken possession of the castle, a means of coming and going unnoticed was a priority for them all. So Charlie had taken Bawb’s advice and started casting layers upon layers of shimmer spells, much as they had done in hiding their stashes of ma
gical gear. It was just a faint drop of magic applied daily, building up like layers of a jawbreaker candy, hiding the door from prying eyes. But it couldn’t be done all at once.
A suddenly-vanishing door would draw attention. But one that just faded from notice over months, well, that was something they could manage and that wouldn’t draw attention. Passers-by would simply be confused, questioning their memory, asking themselves if there wasn’t a door there before.
He pulled his hood over his head and adopted the shuffle of a lame-legged peasant as he leaned on his staff, making his way toward the small trail he had so often enjoyed following deep into the woods. Once he was out of sight of the castle and surrounding grounds, he could switch back to his normal walk, but for now, he was a gimpy mendicant. Yet another of Bawb’s assassin tricks he had found useful since arriving home.
Home, but far, far, too early.
Still, beats being hunted down by a crazed cabal of evil wizards, he mused. And indeed, compared to avoiding the deadly Council of Twenty a distant galaxy away, this was a walk in the park.
Or a walk in the woods, in this case.
On a whim, he turned from his usual trail, heading toward the farmland a few hills over. It would be a good walk, but he could use the exercise, and besides, he wanted to quietly see how the farmer was doing now that he was out from under the tax collector’s thumb.
He had crossed a clearing and the small stream flowing adjacent to it, and was just cresting a wooded hill when he came across a group of men walking through the woods.
He kept his hands steady, restraining himself from the instinct shouting at him to grab his sword from under his cloak. He was just a peasant, out for a walk. With his disguised appearance, he wasn’t a particularly tempting target.
Charlie simply kept his same, steady pace, adjusting his course to go around the men. He’d come into view walking normally, though, so it wouldn’t serve him to go back to his injured gait. The bright side was he would get clear of the men faster.
Except it looked like it wouldn’t be so easy. The men saw him trudging along through the woods and began moving toward him.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Really? He grumbled to himself.
Charlie glanced at the men, taking inventory of their gear as he catalogued them with a fighter’s eyes.
Far too well-armed to be mere bandits, he realized, a sinking feeling forming in his gut. And there are more of them in the woods over there.
Bawb had mentioned soldiers might be probing the land. Men with military gear, disguised as ruffians. He did a quick count of the men coming his way. Including the others joining them from the within the treeline, there had to be twenty of them, if not more.
He was already regretting not wearing a konus or slaap, the possibility of people seeing him wield magic be damned. But all he had on him was his walking staff and a short sword.
Okay, I’m good, but not that good. Still, I could maybe take most of them, but the whole point is avoiding a scene.
Charlie quickly weighted his options. He was really wishing they hadn’t used up the last of their ammunition for the firearms they’d pulled back through time with them, but in the early days of his kingship, he had been tested, and a flashy example needed to be made. Unfortunately, that left him without a gun.
There were a few other responses he could still go with, but the choice was made for him when the nearest of the men picked up their pace, jogging toward him.
Fuck it.
Charlie took off at a run, bolting back the way he came. The men broke into pursuit, the rattle of their weapons ringing out as they wove through the trees after him.
Down the hill they went at breakneck speed, Charlie outpacing them, but not by nearly enough for his comfort. He reached the bottom, the ground tapering off to level, and ran straight for the little stream he had crossed earlier, vaulting to the other shore and rushing to the clearing ahead.
A slight tickle fluttered in his mind.
Ah.
Charlie spun and stopped, throwing off his cloak, shedding his disguise as he drew his sword. The men quickly formed a skirmish line, sizing up their prey.
“Stop your pursuit! I am no easy victim walking these hills. I am King Charlie!”
“Yeah. We know,” the nearest man said.
The revelation did not sit well with him.
“Oh. Shit,” was all he managed to blurt as the men attacked.
His adrenaline spiked, and Charlie fought like a man possessed. Since it was very literally a fight for his life, his reaction was entirely understandable. But fighting without a konus of slaap meant none of his usual arsenal of spells were at his disposal. At least they shouldn’t have been.
But things had been changing within him of late, and as he cast diversionary spells out of pure instinct, he was surprised to find them working. Nothing to give away his true power, but subtle things buying him time.
Swarms of invisible flies badgered one man, another found his feet inexplicably slip out from under him despite his seemingly-sound footing. Still another was knocked backward by a kika rahm spell silently cast just as one of his comrades bumped into him, masking the magical blow.
He was making a very good show of it, but as the men kept coming, Charlie knew that eventually they’d get the best of him.
A flash of a shadow crossed overhead, followed by an enormous crash as a pair of massive, scaly red feet crushed a handful of men, several trees shattering to pieces from the dragon’s diving approach.
Ara bellowed, flames spraying from her mouth and nose as she sized up the tiny attackers, all of whom stood in sheer terror, white with fear.
“No, wait!” Charlie called out. “Don’t burn them alive and eat them. I know how you love eating men whole, but I would have words with them,” he said, turning back to face the attackers. “You’ll all be good now, won’t you?”
The petrified men nodded yes.
“You know I had no intention of eating them,” Ara silently said.
“Well, yeah. But it makes more of an impression on them that way. Burning to death is one thing, but being eaten? That shit’s a whole other level of visceral fear.”
Ara chuckled in his head. “I’m very curious to see how this plays out. And if they so much as lift a finger, I very well may eat a few, just to make a point.”
Charlie felt the muscle in his jaw twitch, but managed to make it look like an angry tic, rather than a laugh threatening to burst free.
“Now you lot, you listen up. You’re new here, obviously. Maybe you don’t know me. Maybe you thought the stories were just that. Stories. But now you know the truth, and you will report what you’ve seen to your captain and king.
Ara huffed a plume of smoke for effect.
“I am Charlie, the Dragon King, and this land is protected. We are not weak. We are not scared. And to invade my lands is to court your own death.”
“Dragon king?”
“Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“You’re ridiculous, Charlie. You know that?”
“Perhaps. But look at their faces. No denying it. That shit works.”
He scanned the men, too afraid to fight, and to afraid to flee. For grizzled battle veterans and soldiers of whatever land they’d come scouting from, the sensation of loosening bowels was one they hadn’t felt since their first battle. In the presence of certain death, and not in the form of combat, as they had prepared themselves for, its abrupt return was startling.
“Now, go tell your masters what I have said. And do not dare tread on my lands again. You may keep your lives this time. Next time, you shall not be so fortunate.”
The men moved, abruptly unpetrified by his permission to flee. And flee they did, at great speed.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen fully-armed men run that fast,” Charlie chuckled.
“Indeed,” Ara replied. “Well, that was interesting.”
“Yeah, it was. Did you see an army nearby, or was this jus
t a scouting party?”
“No army that I could see, but I’ll keep an eye out. There’s something strange in the air, but I can’t quite place it.”
“Strange? Like, stranger than a few dozen disguised soldiers in the kingdom?”
“I can’t say for sure, yet, but I am beginning to wonder if this planet doesn’t possess its own magic users after all.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Charlie rode out from the castle later that day, still determined to visit the formerly over-taxed farmer. Only this time, when he left the castle walls later that afternoon, he did so with a full contingent of men, as well as a slaap in a pouch on his hip and a konus on each arm beneath his clothing.
He didn’t think the foreign scouts would be foolish enough to try something again so soon, but after discussing the situation with Ara, both agreed it was far better to wear them today, just in case. She would be nearby, scouring the area, but if she couldn’t be there fast enough, she wanted him protected.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he told her.
“I’d hope not. That was far too close, Charlie.”
“Agreed. But I think the message got through to the surviving men loud and clear. But for peace of mind, give the region another look, will ya?”
“Of course. Ride safely. I will return this evening to discuss what I uncover.”
With that, she was gone, and Charlie was on his own. Or at least as on his own as one could be while surrounded by two dozen of your finest guards.
They rode a slightly longer route to the farmer’s lands, avoiding choke points and locations the captain thought might be likely ambush sites.
“I don’t know what his Majesty was thinking, going out alone, and unarmed like that,” he griped
“I wasn’t unarmed. I had my sword.”
“Against twenty men. If not for your winged pet, I fear we might be looking at our third king in as many months,” the captain noted.
“You know, Sheeran, for a minute there you almost sounded like you’d miss me.”
