Flack’s body was left in the same state as when they’d left. Dale stood over it for a few seconds before reaching down and closing the eyelids. Dale saw Benny and motioned for him to sit down at their table.
“I’ll get us a drink…if there’s anything left.” He left and returned from the wrecked bar with a single bottle of rum. They sat and took turns drinking.
“You’re not the only one who’s upset,” Dale stated.
Benny took a long, hard swig when Dale passed the bottle to him. It burned his throat and tasted like piss, but he kept it down.
“You probably shouldn’t get drunk before our big journey,” Helena said, entering the room, naked but clean of the blood and grime of battle. She sat down at the table with them.
“The barrels are either destroyed or empty, and this was the only thing I found intact,” Dale said. “I normally don’t drink alcohol when preparing for a journey, but in this case I’ll make an exception. Besides, one bottle between the three of us won’t do much.” He grabbed the bottle from Benny and handed it to Helena.
“Make that four of us,” Virtue said, arriving at the table and taking the bottle from Helena.
“What do we do from here?” Benny asked.
“I guess we’ll start by going back up to Bluecorn Betty and use the portal, if it remains unharmed. Hopefully Marty’s okay,” Dale said.
“He’s got a right hook that could knock a dragon loopy. Believe me, he’s fine.” Helena rubbed her jaw and winked at Dale.
“We’ll check on Bum on the way,” Virtue said. She briefly explained the events of the Battle at Galver and Elim Dorn, how Bum had been injured, and about Dijon’s arrest. Dale winced as he listened to the tale.
“He’s tough. He’ll be all right, but I doubt he’ll be able to join us on our trip. That’s a shame. He’s a good ranger, and can clip the wings off a fly from a mile away with his crossbow.” Dale took a sip after Benny’s turn, realized the bottle was now empty, and dropped it on the floor. Benny didn’t normally drink, and could already feel the buzz of the alcohol from the few sips he’d taken. The others were obviously more experienced drinkers, since they giggled at him as his eyes began rolling in his head.
“Jack wasn’t much of a drinker either. Great swordsman, though. I regret what I did to him.” Dale said. The three looked at him, confused. “You know how he had that limp?” Dale asked.
After acknowledging they didn’t, Dale explained how he and Jack had once challenged each other to a ‘friendly’ duel. “After Alsbury, Cycleze, Jack, Marty Danaher, and I joined forces to create a stable of mercenaries. We called ourselves the Ferocious Four.”
“You couldn’t think of a better name?” Helena laughed.
“We weren’t very creative. Anyway, after one of our last jobs together, Jack and I got drunk and started arguing over who the better fighter was. Jack’s dad had just bought this place, and we were visiting. We fought right out in the street, there. We started off with our swords, and fought for what seemed like hours. We weren’t really trying to hurt each other at first, but we were both drunk and after we nicked each other it got more serious. Jack was thin and agile, and I was at my strongest and meanest. It got ugly.”
“Jack, thin?” Benny asked. Benny had always known Jack as the fat, bald, mustached man he had been at death.
“He didn’t always have that gut, or that bald dome either. Anyhow, we broke our swords after some particularly hard blows and it spilled into a wrestling match. I thought I’d beat Jack easily once that happened, but he danced circles around me.” Dale laughed. “I looked like a blundering idiot out there. He put moves on me I’ve never seen since. I got embarrassed, and then angry. The rest is history.”
“What did you do?” Helena asked.
“We may have been drunk, but we’d agreed to fight fair: no low blows, eye gouging, or any cheap shots like that. I wanted to out-skill Jack, but when I realized he had me beat, I broke our rules and threw sand in his eyes. If it’d been a real fight, I know Jack would’ve been ready for it, but like I said, we’d set rules. It stunned him and I tackled him at the knees. I heard the bone snap, but I continued beating on him once I got him to the ground. Took ten men to get me off. He recovered, and we made amends, but his leg was shot. He was never the same man after that.” Dale buried his face in his hands.
“Why’d you tell us that?” Benny was confused. He knew how Dale had once been and wasn’t angry nor surprised by the story, but what had spawned Dale’s sudden confession?
“If we’re going to be traveling together, I don’t want any secrets between us. I was a very bad person. Alsbury wasn’t my only ill deed. I was a bully…I didn’t care about anyone, not even my closest friends, Marty and Jack. I didn’t have the best childhood, and I let those who’d hurt me in the past turn me into a monster. For a long time I used the excuse that it was Cycleze’s brainwashing that did it to me, but he was only feeding the virus that was already inside me.” He looked Benny in the eyes. “And when you snapped at me in the wagon, I could see myself in you. I know you’re upset about Jack and Nap, but don’t let it affect who you are. You’re a good person. I want you to stay that way.”
“I guess you’re going to tell us you’re the one responsible for Marty Danaher getting his earlobes ripped off, too?” Benny joked.
“To be quite frank, yes, I was. He got drunk before we were supposed to do a job, and I got angry. I took him to a goblin camp late one night and stapled his earlobes to a tree,” Dale said. The others were silent.
“Well, it doesn’t matter now. Jack’s dead, Marty’s probably dead, and we have a long trip ahead of us. The sooner we get this over with, the better.” Benny stood up, wobbly, and Virtue helped him back to their room.
“The boy’s in a delicate state right now…don’t put too much on him,” Helena said, walking over to Dale and holding his head against her chest. “We need rest. Come to bed and let me take things off your mind.”
Dale grew annoyed and stood up. “How can you think of knocking boots at a time like this?”
“You’re being an ass. I’m trying to comfort you, not get in your pants. We may not be officially married yet, but I’m your wife, and it’s my duty to be there for you.”
Dale walked back to Helena and held her close. “I’m sorry. I just need to be alone right now. I’m going to go spend some time with Jack before I decide what to do with his body, and the others. Get some rest. We’re heading out tomorrow at dusk.”
Helena said nothing, but Dale knew she understood. She kissed him passionately before leaving him alone in the dining hall.
When Benny woke up, the sun was setting in the west. Dale had buried Flack and burned the other Kudgel bodies. Benny was depressed they couldn’t give all the bodies a proper burial, but there simply wasn’t time or space in Gant to do so. Flack’s burial was already finished, a shallow grave under a tree by the river. A stick was placed to mark it until a more permanent headstone could be made. Benny noticed Dale had hung Flack’s rat-faced hood on the stick marking his grave.
Benny noticed Dale kneeling next to the grave, silently praying. When he saw Benny, he stood up. “I went ahead and buried Flack. I wanted to wait to fill in Jack’s grave until you could say goodbye.”
“Thank you,” Benny said.
Jack looked peaceful. Dale had put clean clothes on him, as well as the dirty cook's apron Jack had been so fond of wearing. His sword, the one with the teeth, which Jack had let Benny borrow during his initial journey with Dale and Cycleze, lay on his chest. As Benny grabbed a shovel, Dale handed him something. “Here. Jack would want you to have this. I found it under his bed.” It was a small, green felt cap with a long, red feather sticking out of it. It looked rather comical, and Benny looked at Dale in confusion.
“This was Jack’s trademark. Back in the day he’d never be caught dead without it.” Dale said.
Benny smiled at Dale and put the cap on his head. For a split secon
d, Dale began to tear up, but preoccupied himself with filling in the grave. When finished, they returned to find Helena and Virtue loading supplies into the wagon.
“We all set?” Virtue asked.
“Yes, except for one thing,” Dale said, “I don’t want you going with us, Virtue.” Benny looked at Dale, confused, but Dale was quick to continue. “You are with child, and there’s no telling how long this journey will be. Someone also needs to stay and watch over the Fox Den. When Dale and I visit Bum, we’ll ask him if he can come protect you.”
“I guess you have a point,” Virtue walked over to Benny and held his hand.
“It’ll be harder without you…both emotionally and practically. But I think Dale has a point. I don’t want anything happening to you, or our child. I don’t know if I can go that long without you, though…” Benny leaned against Virtue.
“What about your telepathy?” Helena chimed in. “Can it work long distance?”
“I’m not sure. It might take time and practice for me to reach out that far, and it may get harder the further north y’all travel, but maybe it’ll work.”
“Then perhaps we won’t be separated entirely,” Benny said.
“Oh, Benny, you almost forgot,” Virtue ran back into the Fox Den and returned with the staff he’d won at the tournament. “You should learn to use this on your travels. It could come in handy.”
Benny thanked Virtue, kissing her passionately. Then, silently, they boarded the wagon and departed.
It took only about a day and a half to reach Galver Dorn, and the new Duke met them as they rode in. He greeted everyone, revealing his name to be Ames Murdock. “It seems in the haste of battle I never got a chance to introduce myself,” he said to Benny.
“Benny Clout, and this is my friend, Dale Beranger, and his wife, Helena.” Benny shook Murdock's hand, “How’s Bum?”
“Beranger? Oh yes, you were Dijon’s errand boy. The orc is doing well. He’s actually helping with repairs in the city square.”
“Errand boy?” Helena asked Dale as they headed for the city square.
“Eh…don’t ask,” Dale chuckled.
They found Bum, with his head bandaged and his arm in a sling, slowly aiding the townsfolk in piling up debris and bodies. He saw the trio and rushed, or rather hobbled, over to greet them. He and Dale embraced. “Don’t let these bandages fool you. In a few more days they said I should be right as rain, short of a few handsome scars.”
They quickly filled him in on the events that had transpired since Benny, Virtue, and Liverwart parted ways with the orc. He understood, and was quick to accept the duty of watching over Virtue. “I’ll be glad to help out at the inn, as soon as I finish helping these men here. It appears as if there was a second wave of Kudgels that attacked Elim Dorn after we left, and we need to accommodate the refugees.”
“Will they try for Galver Dorn?” Helena asked.
“It doesn’t appear so. They sent a messenger to discuss terms of peace. They are low on supplies and fever is spreading through their troops. We told them, as long as they stay in Elim Dorn, we’ll leave them alone, and they agreed to leave us be as well.”
“We’d love to stick around and make sure they live up to their word, but we need to be going,” Dale said. They exchanged farewells and parted ways.
It took them several days to reach Bluecorn Betty, only stopping to exchange places in the driver’s seat. When they reached the castle, things didn’t look good. Bodies littered the ground outside the main structure, and parts of the castle were still smoldering from fire. But it was when they saw the water spirit’s pool underneath the castle that Dale got worried. Dale had saved the spirit once before when her original home pond dried up, and the spirit had thanked him by considering Dale her adoptive son. Benny doubted Dale could save her now though. Dead Kudgels were littered around and in the water; the womanly figure of the water spirit was only half formed from the waist up. She was lying face down on the bank like a beached whale. Dale ran to her and carefully rolled her over.
“Mom?” he called to her. She slowly reached up a hand, which melted back into water as it touched his face, splashing down on Dale’s pants.
“What’s wrong with her?” Benny asked.
Dale was frantic. “Her pool is her life-force. If it’s contaminated she’ll die.” He cupped some water in his hand and spat it back out, “The Kudgels poisoned it!”
“Can we do anything?” Helena asked.
Dale looked up and around frantically. “I don’t know…she’s one of the last of her kind, and I know very little about her. Benny, get me a bottle!”
Benny ran to the wagon, found a small flask, and ran back to Dale. Almost all but the spirit’s head and chest had dissipated back into water. She looked up at Dale. She was sad, but at the same time, she looked relieved to know he was okay, and that he was with her. Dale held the flask down to her. She nodded and dissipated back into water, entering the flask.
“The wizard might know how to purify her. Then maybe I can find new water for her to live in. This is an enchanted flask to keep liquids fresh. Marty gave it to Jack a long time ago…I found it with that hat I gave you, Benny. It was used for Marty’s whiskey…it might help Mom.”
“Speaking of the old slugger, let’s go see if he’s all right,” Helena suggested.
They climbed up to the floor with the inn and tavern, and found the front door broken off its hinges. No sound came from inside, but a dead Kudgel, his face bashed in, lay on the threshold. For the first time since he’d known him, Benny saw true fear in Dale’s eyes.
“What is it?” Helena asked.
Dale looked at Helena and Benny. “I thought he’d quit drinking…he told me he had. This isn’t good.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Benny asked.
“Marty…he used to get drunk before fights and jobs…he’s a tough fighter, but when he got drunk he became a demon. That was why I gave him over to the goblin camp. He’d become so ferocious when he drank, he’d go on killing sprees, even after a job was done. Nobody can stop him when he’s like this, not even me. The only thing you can do is keep him drinking until he passes out.”
“As rough and tumble as he was with us Amazons, sober, I’d hate to fight him like that.” Helena grabbed her sword.
“No, put your sword away. He’ll kill you before you can make the first strike.”
“He’s that quick?” Benny asked.
“He’s quicker.” Dale said.
“Now I see why he joined forces with you and Cycleze,” Benny said.
Helena shook her head. “After this is all over, you’re gonna have to tell me who this Cycleze fellow is. Hell, let’s get this over with.”
They stepped over the body of the Kudgel and entered a pitch black dining hall. Tables and chairs were thrown everywhere, and bodies of Kudgels and patrons were everywhere, most of them with their faces smashed. Dale entered first, with Helena and Benny behind him. Benny held his staff in front of him. Not knowing how to operate it, he doubted it’d do much good. Then, a deep, menacing voice issued from the darkness. It was the voice of Marty Danaher, but there was definitely something different about it. It was slurred and irrational.
“More pigs to the slaughter,” Marty laughed maniacally. “Have you so easily forgotten what I am? I am the madness within you…begging to be released from the furthest depths of your pathetic little animal mind. I am what you cower from in your bed at night…waiting to taste your blood and drink your soul!”
“Marty, cut the crap! It’s me, Dale.”
“Marty is dead, just like you’re about to be!” A body rushed out from the darkness.
Marty slammed into Dale, gripping him in a bear hug and slamming him into the wall, splintering wood and taking Dale to the floor. He slammed his fist into Dale’s face. Dale managed to reverse positions, blood pouring from his nostrils. He did his best to grab onto Marty’s arms, but Marty screamed like an animal an
d threw Dale off him like a rag doll. Helena rushed in to meet him, sword drawn, but Marty stuck out his leg and kicked her hard in the groin and then the face. Marty came after Benny, but Dale grabbed the man from behind and tried to hold him in place. “Marty, knock it off, it's Dale! It’s Dale Beranger!”
The moonlight shone in through the doorway and illuminated Marty’s face: his eyes were blood red and saliva dripped from his mouth. His knuckles were raw and bloodstained, and his left pinkie was broken backwards. After Dale screamed his name several more times, a sadistic grin came across Marty’s face. “Beranger?” he asked.
“Yes! It’s me! It’s Dale!” Dale held on for dear life, shaking with the strain of trying to hold the tall, scrawny man in place.
“You want them? We’ll split their skulls and eat their brains…”
“No! They’re friends. Drinking buddies!”
At that, Marty broke loose from Dale and looked at him strangely. “Drink?” he asked.
“Yes. Come on, Marty. Let’s drink, just like the good ol’ days.”
Marty slapped Dale and began laughing, stumbling as he walked towards a booth. He slumped into a chair and began breathing heavily. In the shadows, he looked like a demon from the darkest pits of hell. His face was frail and emaciated, and his nose started to bleed. “Benny, grab all the liquor you can find! Now!” Dale screamed.
Benny ran behind what remained of the bar and found several bottles of a dark liquid he couldn’t place, and brought them back to Dale. He handed one to Marty, who broke off the neck and chugged the substance. He downed the other bottles Benny brought, smashing each into the table when finished. “More?” he asked.
“Yes! We got loads more! Benny?” Dale’s voice was filled with worry.
“Yeah…hold…” Benny nearly tripped over a dead Kudgel trying to get back to the bar. He tried one of the beer barrels, and it still had some in it. He grabbed a few metal pints off the ground and filled them to the brim. When he brought them back to Marty, the man shoved him back and chugged them both in a matter of moments. They repeated this process, bringing whatever liquid they could to Marty’s lips. After what seemed like an eternity, and an ungodly amount of alcohol, Marty began to burp loudly. He sat still for a few minutes, hiccupping, and then vomited all over himself and the table. He collapsed out of his chair, and then spewed more vomit. The stream of ale and liquor seemed to go on without end from his mouth, and finally, after incoherent garble, Marty collapsed in his own juices. He was at last unconscious.
Magenta Salvation Page 2
