The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  “Move, damn you. If you’re going to play tricks on me—”

  I reach out and touch the glass. I stare into my reflection’s eyes, daring it to move, to twitch even a second. Tom stares back, pallid, sleep-deprived, wide-eyed. He grins at me.

  I stop smiling. So does my reflection. Damn it, it’s all in my head.

  All? Are you sure?

  It has to be. I take my hand away, noting with guilt that I’ve smudged the mirror. I try to polish it, but just spread the oils from my palm around.

  “I hate you. If you’re there, I’ll kill you. I swear it.”

  You? You and what madness?

  Laughter. The voice isn’t the worst. The voice sounds like me at times, a bit crazy, darker, but still what I’d think. The voice only scares me at times. But it’s when I feel like laughing, like punching the glass until my hand is full of shards that I’m afraid.

  It would be so easy. So easy to push the glass deep. What would it feel like if it hit bone? I make a fist, staring at my stupid expression. My eyes.

  “Well, I expected to be alone, but I suppose I was a fool for thinking that. More proof that I’m good at my job, then.”

  A voice. I whirl, and see a short man in colorful clothing. The Fool. He walks into the room with a brisk step. He’s got a bottle in hand and a cup. He nods at me, not smiling, but not frowning, either.

  “Mister [Clown]. I didn’t think to see you tonight.”

  “Ah. You’re…”

  He puts the bottle and cup in the ground and gives me a dramatic bow.

  “A [Fool], at your service, sir. And you may call me Fool—everyone else does. I perform at the Blighted King’s court. I hope you didn’t take too much offense at my little performance?”

  “What? No. I—it bailed me out. Thanks.”

  “We funny men should stick together. Only, you’re fairly unfunny as such people go. Are you truly a [Clown], Mister…?”

  “Oh. Sorry. I’m Tom. Thomas, but you can call me Tom.”

  The Fool takes my hand and shakes it with a surprisingly firm grip. He’s not nearly as dramatic as he was in the banquet hall earlier, but there’s still a sense of performing as he indicates the mirror behind me.

  “Come to admire yourself in the room of mirrors? It’s a rare person who likes to spend time here. I confess, that’s why I came alone.”

  “Sorry about that. I can leave if you want—”

  “Nonsense. There’s more than enough space for two idiots, or at least one [Fool] and a [Clown]. Besides, company is pleasant, and if you’ve a mind to share it, I wouldn’t take it amiss. I’m never alone here as you can tell.”

  He nods to his reflections. I smile a bit.

  “Sure. What are you doing here?”

  “Drinking. Of course! A bottle of wine, a cup…would you like one?”

  “A cup? Sure, but if there’s only one—”

  He hands me a second cup, already filled with wine. I stare at it and blink at him. The Fool grins.

  “Well?”

  Gingerly I sip at the cup. Then I frown. I tilt the cup towards my lips, but no liquid comes out. I can see it, red and deep in the cup! I tilt it further, and then on a hunch, upend the cup. Nothing comes out. I stare at the Fool and he grins.

  “A little trick. I apologize, but the joke’s only good once, so I do it to everyone I meet. That’s a fake cup, you see?”

  “I do. But how do you get the liquid…?”

  “Oh, I copied this cup, of course.”

  The Fool hands me a second cup, identical to the first, only the wine sloshes about in this one. He takes the first cup back and tosses it to the ground. It breaks into pieces which dissolve into nothing.

  “It’s a Skill of mine, to copy things. They last a while too, if handled gently. Good for pranks and trickery. Not for much else. But then, you’d know about such Skills, wouldn’t you?”

  “I suppose I would. I am a [Clown], by the way. Just a bad one. I’m only Level 28.”

  The Fool’s eyebrows rise.

  “And yet you had no levels when you first came here. I’d say that’s astonishing by any standards. A shame you can’t perform as well. Your juggling act was painful to watch.”

  “Sorry.”

  He claps me on the back. I slosh some of the wine.

  “Nonsense! Again, nonsense, so I suppose it must be tomfoolery! Stop apologizing and don’t mind the spill. Servants will catch it. If not, bugs. What you need is practice. A week or so and you’ll have the court rolling at your feet. Who knows, you might get his dour Majesty to smile!”

  “You mean the Blighted King? I’ll pass. I’m done with being a [Clown].”

  “Ah. Not much of a warrior you said?”

  “Not much. Sorry. I—I guess you know all about us.”

  The Fool shrugs. He takes a sip from the wine bottle, letting it slosh into his mouth from high above. He doesn’t spill a drop, which is impressive.

  “The whole court knows I daresay, and much of the kingdom. We had such hopes. Alas, prophecy is not what it’s rumored to be.”

  “About that. Are we really the destined heroes that are supposed to save Rhir from the blight and the Demon King? No one’s really mentioned that.”

  “Well, that’s what the spells says. Summons heroes destined to glory and all that. I don’t know much about it, but the Blighted King and his advisers seemed to think that meant you were fairly competent.”

  “Hah.”

  “That’s what I thought! But I was wise enough not to make a joke about it. How his Majesty raged when he heard of what happened to you.”

  Somehow, I find myself sitting with the Fool, drinking from my cup as he fills it and drinks himself. He tells me about the Blighted King and his role at court.

  “One must have a [Fool]. Actually, I lie. One mustn’t at all, even if one is a [King]. My class is rare enough, and there’s scant work for a [Fool] in hungry villages. I was lucky enough to catch his Majesty’s eye one day, and I have served here for over a decade.”

  “A decade? Really? Wow. I thought [Fools] were supposed to be part of a court. Like it was a hereditary thing, or something.”

  “Hah! Fools breeding more fools! What a world that would be! I’m afraid that Rhir at least doesn’t see the need for a line of my ilk. Although if I met a lovely lady…alas, they go for heroes of the realm, not idiots juggling balls.”

  “You’d think the more balls the merrier, right?”

  He chokes on his wine, coughs, and laughs.

  “So Tom the [Clown] has a joke in him after all! A bit crass, though. I wouldn’t dare repeat it at court.”

  “Oh come on. It’s funny.”

  The Fool grows serious.

  “Yes, but it wouldn’t be appropriate for the young [Princess]. You noted her at the table, I hope. Her and the other [Princess], of course. They are our King’s daughters.”

  “I saw. She looks young.”

  “She’s the daughter of the current Blighted Queen. Alas, her sister, whom we call her Highness Isodore, is the daughter of the previous Blighted Queen.”

  “So there’s been more than one?”

  “You hadn’t heard? Of course not. Yes, there have been two Blighted Queens. Three, if you count the one who died before marriage. The Blighted King has seen his wives die one by one during his reign.”

  “That…sucks.”

  “An understatement, which is why I am so sorely needed at his court. Not that the Blighted King laughs, mind you. But I keep the [Princess] and others amused, so I earn my keep. I also endeavor to stay away from lewd jokes or more intimate comedy unless I know she’s asleep.”

  “That’s nice of you.”

  The Fool shakes his head. He smiles sadly.

  “The [Princess] has a hard life without me adding to it, Mister Tom.”

  “Just Tom, please.”

  “Very well. I’m surprised, to be honest that you took a class so odd as a [Clown]. What do you do, exactly, if it’s not make
people laugh?”

  “Make them feel uncomfortable, I suppose. And laugh at how weird I am.”

  “Like a [Fool]! But surely there’s more of a difference. What makes a [Clown] different from a [Fool]?”

  “I dunno. Face paint? I wear oversized shoes, have a big red nose, use balloons…”

  “What?”

  “Uh—it’s a round floaty thing.”

  He stares at me. I shrug. I’m pleasantly sloshed by now and feeling…decent for once. I try describing it to him and he shakes his head.

  “Loud, noisy, and can fly? I’d use one myself if I had such a thing. I make do with throwing squirrels and cats in the meantime. But surely there’s more to it than that.”

  I sigh.

  “I don’t know. Clowns come in all different shapes and sizes. I guess [Fools] are like that too. For instance, I don’t see you wearing a jingling cap with bells on.”

  “That’s a requirement for being a [Fool]?”

  “I mean, that’s what I think of. Why don’t you have one of those?”

  He gives me a look.

  “I’m a [Fool], not an idiot. There are times when a Fool should be seen and not heard, or not seen or heard at all. Were I to go around dinging like some bell, I’d be evicted from the royal presence within the hour.”

  He paused.

  “Perhaps the day if the youngest [Princess] were to object.”

  “She really likes you, huh?”

  “I’m her sole form of entertainment on some days, and it can be dreary being locked up in the palace. She never enters the city without an escort and seldom at that.”

  “Why? Is it so dangerous here? I thought the capital—”

  He waves a hand and refills my goblet.

  “Oh, it’s safer than any other part of Rhir and safe for all but royalty I imagine. Yet the [Princess] must be careful, or she’ll end up like her brothers and sisters.”

  “I thought she only had a sister. Or—”

  “She had others.”

  Like an idiot, I stare at the Fool blankly.

  “What happened to them, then? Where are they?”

  His voice is flat.

  “Dead.”

  I sober up a bit.

  “Oh. I’m s—I thought it was a family of four—”

  “The majesties royal had a household of seven, once, unfunny Tom. Two older sons and another daughter three years older than the young [Princess]. All of them died. The brothers in battle, and the daughter in bed. A plague, sent by the Demons it was thought. Assassins killed the last Queen, and the one before that.”

  “Oh.”

  The Fool nods. He isn’t smiling now. He stares at his reflection in one of the mirrors.

  “Now the [Princess] and her young highness Isodore are watched like sheep by lions, while their father and mother strive to make their kingdom safe for all but their enemies. A touching tale, isn’t it?”

  I nod and sip from his wine flask. Did one of the mirror images of me just wink? Nope. Just my imagination. Again.

  “For a [Fool], you’re awfully well-informed. And you seem important.”

  “Shouldn’t I be? I am a royal jester, a prince of laughter. Shouldn’t I be known and heard, but never minded in court? I can walk around and people talk as if I don’t exist. Which I don’t mind, incidentally.”

  The Fool gets up and does a cartwheel, laughing, half in mirth, half in a kind of despair I recognize. He turns to me.

  “You’re no [Clown] you say, but if you’re not that, what are you? In denial, I should imagine.”

  “No, no—you wouldn’t like to see me when I’m a [Clown]. Really.”

  “How should I see you, then?”

  “Just as Tom. Tom, the unfunny, who could use a refill of your wine, if you’ve got any left, Fool. I don’t suppose you can copy the wine bottle? Or do you have access to more wine we could find?”

  He stares at me, a smile tugging at his lips.

  “I don’t believe I’ve ever met a person who wanted to befriend me, Tom. Are you that bored, or am I that good company?”

  “Neither. But us unfunny people should stick together, right?”

  I grin at him, and feel happy for a tiny bit. The Fool blinks at me, and then laughs. Of all the people I’ve met today, his laughter is the only one I’ve needed. And it heals something. That night I pass out in my room, drunk, but sane.

  And a bit happy.

  —-

  The next day, I’m too hung over to have breakfast, and barely have a lunch with the others. I keep rubbing my head and groaning, and when they decide to go out to explore the city, I beg off.

  “God, Tom. How much did you drink last night?”

  “And where can I get some?”

  Emily glares at me while Eddy edges over. I shake my head.

  “Ask the Fool.”

  “Him? Where’d you meet him?”

  “We raided the kitchens. There’s a lot. Good…ow, my head hurts.”

  “I think Tom’s going to rest. Alright, let’s go the rest of you. We have a budget, remember, but we’ll make sure everyone has some coin. Tom, can you give us the money if you’re staying behind?”

  “Sure. Here.”

  I toss the pouch at Richard and stumble away to my rooms. After two more hours, I feel able to function normally, so I finally get up and stumble out of the palace.

  I get lost six times along the way. The corridors are a complete maze to me, and they’re apparently meant to be that way. No invading army can enter that easily. Unfortunately, that means I have to bother person after person to find my way out.

  I get all the way to the courtyard when I realize I have no money, no real desire to see the sights, and no idea why I’m here. I stare glumly around the huge open area leading up to the castle.

  “Man, this place is big.”

  You could march an army through here. Heck, that’s probably the point. There are three gates leading into the courtyard, which head up to the double doors up a flight of steps. The wall around the courtyard is high, but the space itself is so big that it doesn’t feel enclosed at all.

  It’s quite nice, actually. There’s a fountain and lots of water over there, some greenery over there, very nice stonework underfoot…and that’s all I’ve got.

  You really need a hobby. Like stabbing people.

  “Shush. I was in a good mood before you showed up.”

  You should turn around. Someone’s standing behind you.

  “I said shush.”

  “Can you really not do anything but juggle? Father says you have hidden depths.”

  That voice is real. I nearly jump out of my skin as I whirl around. A young girl wearing a violet dress takes a step back. She stares up at me. I blink down at the youngest [Princess] of the Blighted Kingdom.

  “Uh. What?”

  She stares at me. I stare back. She points at my chest.

  “Can you do a backflip? The Fool can.”

  “What? I—probably not , your majesty.”

  I probably can, actually. If it’s part of my [Flawless Dodge] routine or…heck, I learned how to do an okay cartwheel. But I’m not certain why the [Princess] is here, and I’m busy looking around for the guards that should be around her.

  There’s no one in the courtyard. The [Princess] stares at me and speaks matter-of-factly.

  “If you don’t know how, the Fool can teach you. He wouldn’t teach me, but he could teach you and I could watch.”

  “Okay? If I see him, I’ll ask.”

  “He’s over there. You can ask now.”

  She points. I turn around. Now how did I miss the Fool? Oh, right. He’s not wearing his eye-catching costume.

  A little man wearing nondescript clothing is standing about sixty feet away, walking about the courtyard absentmindedly. He has something in his hands. It looks like…a scroll.

  He’s speaking to the air with the scroll unfurled. The [Princess] and I stare at him. Then she looks at me.

  �
�Are you going to ask or not?”

  She’s pushy. I step over to the Fool, more because I have nothing else to do than any desire to do backflips. He spots us as we approach and rolls up his scroll. He stares at me and then the [Princess] with a furrowed brow.

  “I knew we had fun last night, but this much? And what are you doing in the company of the Princess, Mister Tom?”

  “She appeared out of nowhere. She wants me to ask you to teach her how to do backflips?”

  “What?”

  The Fool’s eyes widen and he does a standing backflip, pretending to be aghast. The [Princess] claps her hands together, laughing. The Fool obliges her, and then peers at me.

  “I’m surprised she spoke to you. Our little Princess speaks to few people.”

  “He’s funny. So are you.”

  The Princess informs the Fool in the same decisive voice. He raises his eyebrows at her, and then turns to me.

  “Well, that’s interesting. I suppose you’d better entertain her yourself, Mister Tom. Go on, do a backflip.”

  “What? No! I’ve never done one before.”

  “It’s not hard. Go on. If you break your neck, it’ll be twice as amusing, I promise.”

  I back up and raise my hands as the two pester me. In desperation, I point to the scroll the Fool tucked into his belt.

  “What was that about? Were you talking to someone?”

  “That’s a magic scroll. For talking to people.”

  The [Princess] peeks at the Fool’s belt. He dances back, and wags a finger at her.

  “Ah, ah! That’s mine, [Princess]. And as for who I was talking to…would you believe the love of my heart?”

  He looks at us hopefully. I stare at him. The Fool scowls and bounces one of his juggling balls off my head. The [Princess] giggles. Then the Fool looks at her. There’s something parental about the way he does it.

  “As delighted as I am to see you, you and I both know you shouldn’t be out here alone, young Miss. Why have you wandered off?”

  The young girl immediately loses her smile. She scuffs at the ground with a shoe.

  “Father sent the soldiers away. All of them. I don’t like that.”

  The Fool stiffens. I look at him, confused.

  “What?”

  He looks gravely at me.