by John DeJordy
While trailing the queen into the main section of the village, Picayune stepped on everyone’s toes. He was bumped around among them. All the eyes turning to stare unsettled him. Whatever bustling activity the badgers had been working on slowed to a crawl. He inhaled as he passed the inquisitive badgers, all of whom looked at him oddly. After countless twists and turns, he stopped and gaped at a massive thatched hut perched on a hilltop overlooking the underground valley. He pulled on Phineas' sleeve and whispered, “It looks like her house could hold the entire village.”
The queen stood tall, throwing her head back and lifting her muzzle. In a sickly sweet voice, she announced, “Here we are!” With a regal step, she began moving up the path to her home.
Picayune climbed the steep incline, straining to keep pace with the queen, Alacrity, and Lacer. The first time he fell, he stifled a whimper. The second time, Phineas helped Picayune to his feet and stood by his side. When their party reached the summit, the two sentinels guarding the door snapped to attention.
When the queen arrived at the door, it opened from within. A badger dressed in a chocolate suede doublet and white hose bowed slightly, his hand on the door handle. “Welcome home, my queen. Do we have guests today?”
The queen strode past the butler into the well-lit foyer. She stared at her servant until he fell to one knee and touched the floor with his forehead.
She seemed to rejoice at his obedience. “Steward, prepare a feast in honor of the young dormouse over there.”
Steward nodded just enough that he could still glance up. “Yes, my queen. Do you desire anything else?”
“Send an escort to show our guests around. We will talk about my needs later. For now, depart from my sight.”
After prostrating himself again, Steward jumped to his feet, opened one of the doors, and bolted down the hall.
The queen faced the group. “I have other duties to attend. Be good lads and wait here for the escort.” With that, she waddled down the passage.
Phineas spat on the ground where the queen had stood to show his disdain for her statement. “We need to plan our escape tonight.”
Alacrity played with his whiskers nervously as he stuttered, “Do, do you think we, we could make it?”
Before anyone could respond, another voice spoke. “Gentlemen, I am Cortege. I will be showing you around. Please follow in an orderly line.” Cortege's height allowed him to almost touch the ceiling, unlike any of the other badgers they had seen. He walked down the hall, not waiting for the others.
“Wait!” Picayune shouted as he ran after them.
Cortege stopped and twisted his head around to leer at Picayune. “Look at the rabbit. He is frail and even he can keep up. You will do the same.”
Alacrity looked at his feet. “I am not frail,” he said in a soft voice.
Phineas growled and stepped forward, but shook his head in pain and disbelief when Cortege backhanded him.
“Know your place, squirrel.”
Phineas extended his claws and gnashed his teeth at Cortege. “Want to see who would beat whom?”
Cortege shuffled forward. Picayune whimpered and inched up. “Phineas, please, we need you.”
The scowl on Phineas' face eased when he heard the familiar voice. Turning, he nodded, to assure Picayune of his sincerity. “For you.” He leered at Cortege and showed his teeth before returning his face to normal.
Cortege’s fangs gleamed. “Keep your pet in check, mouse.”
Picayune urged Phineas to be silent while they followed their escort around the monstrous palace. Each room was decorated with places to sit, eat, and enjoy one's self. Picayune lost count of the rooms as he struggled to keep pace with the rapidly striding badger: a kitchen here, a resting room there, the armory, and a playroom. Just as the astonishing number of rooms was about to overwhelm Picayune, they came to a long staircase leading even deeper underground.
Cortege chuffed aloud, but raised his hand to his mouth to make it appear to be a cough. “You should enjoy this.”
In an effort to keep up with everyone, Picayune occasionally jumped down a few stairs of the long, narrow, rocky staircase. The heat increased dramatically as he descended, causing his feet and hands to sweat. He leapt the last few steps, but misjudged the distance and landed on the back of Cortege's ankles.
The shocked badger scowled, disgusted, at being touched by the dormouse. He raised his arm back and swung, but Phineas caught his wrist before he could strike Picayune.
Phineas showed his teeth again, but they got lost in his muzzle because his face lost all expression when his saw the room beyond Cortege.
Cortege was about to discipline the squirrel when he noticed the group's look of shock. With a look of glee on his face, he stepped aside so they could get a better view of the room.
At the far end of the subterranean cavern, lava cascaded down the wall, filling a gigantic lake with magma. A fat lava beetle sat, enjoying the comforts of being bathed with the substance. The orange-red glow emanating from the beetle alone was enough to fill the entire chamber with light. Chained to the wall to their left, near the entrance, Picayune noticed a few prisoners. As he counted the creatures, he recognized that the second to the last in line was Trailblazer.
Picayune pointed at the captive badger. “Why is he there?”
Cortege snapped at Picayune. “That is none of your concern. Come. You must get ready for tonight's banquet.”
Picayune scrambled up the stairs, keeping better pace as he moved away from the inferno. Through a few rooms and passages, he jogged behind Cortege.
Cortege stopped in front of a door and opened it. He gritted his teeth. “Please remain here until summoned. Someone will be by to help you prepare.”
Phineas spat on the ground in front of Cortege. “We don't need assistance in getting ready.”
Cortege squared off against Phineas. “Had experience with royalty before?”
Picayune pulled Phineas' sleeve before the squirrel could respond. “Let's just get inside for now.”
Cortege showed his teeth. “An excellent idea, don't you think?”
Phineas nodded and gestured for everyone to enter, never taking his eyes off the badger. Once everyone was inside, he backed through the entrance and closed the door.
Four plush beds with various pillows had been set up along the walls. In the center of the room stood a table filled with a basket of fruit, nuts, and a sweet-smelling beverage in an open decanter.
Alacrity and Lancer rushed the table and crammed their faces with food. Phineas sniffed the liquid.
Picking up one of the glasses next to decanter, he poured. Filling it almost to the brim, he walked over and offered it to Picayune. “It smells like juice, so it should be safe, but drink it in small sips. Do not choke.”
Picayune nodded and took the glass, imbibing the first mouthful, before easing his pace to mere sips. He moved to one of the beds and pushed down on it, testing the firmness. His ears stood up when he heard giggling from the other side of the door.
“Hello?” a female voice called out as she knocked.
Phineas replaced the drink on the table and walked to the door. His nose and ears alerted him to what stood on the other side, but he opened the door anyway.
Standing in the hall were several female badgers. Some were carrying a huge washing basin and pitcher set, and some others had their arms outstretched with silk robes of various sizes draped over them. As they shuffled into the room giggling, three burly males carried in a huge barrel and dropped it, letting some of the powerful flowery-water mixture slosh on the floor.
The three bare-chested male badgers went to the door and stood there to watch, crossing their arms over their chests. The female badgers with the basins went to the barrel one by one and dunked their pitchers into the water, while the ones with the clothes each approached the appropriately sized captive.
“These clothes were made for you,” the females with the robes said in unison. They walked over
to the beds and spread the garments on the velvet counterpanes.
The prisoners looked at one another and stood in place, not knowing how to react.
One of the girls sashayed over to Phineas. She took his hand and led him over to the bed where her assistant held the scented water.
Phineas' eyes darted around the room looking for assistance from anyone. He inhaled and bit his lip. “This really isn't necessary, ma'am.”
The two girls ignored his comment. The one with free hands pulled off his shirt.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Phineas fidgeted, unable to stop the girls. His tail whipped back and forth, revealing his agitation. He shivered at the initial touch of the cold sponge to his chest. The gentle caress caused him to puff his chest out and suck in his gut, which spawned more giggles from the girls.
Picayune fiddled with the covers, hoping somehow that, by ignoring the two girls, he'd escape the treatment the others were receiving.
The female holding the basin stood in front of Picayune. “If you take off your shirt, I can start with your sponge bath.”
Picayune spun around and backed into the bed. “What?”
“I have to make you presentable for the queen.”
Picayune looked to Phineas for assistance, but the shocked look on the squirrel's face told Picayune he was on his own.
“It's not bad,” Alacrity said. He already had his shirt off and his arms up as his female assistant wet his fur.
Picayune whimpered slightly, but sat on the bed and took off his shirt. He closed his eyes and felt the soft touch of the sponge. Images of the times his mother bathed him when he was little flashed in his head. He was lulled into a peaceful trance, not noticing the passage of time.
“You should rest before the big night,” a voice so much like his mother's whispered to him. He felt her soft hands lifting his legs onto the bed, and he drifted into slumber.
Chapter 13
Picayune the knight groaned when he saw the clear blue morning sky and tops of trees passing by. His hand traced his side where he had been stabbed to discover a bandage tightly wrapped around his torso. He was lying down on a makeshift stretcher; one end was dragging on the ground while Victor the orc carried the other.
“Wait!” the knight demanded.
Victor stopped and lowered the stretcher to the ground. He faced the man. “Yes?”
Picayune jumped to his feet, then grimaced in pain. “What happened?”
The orc snorted and a smile crept over his face. “You won fight. We had agreement, no? I removed my minions who tried to interfere. You need more care. Taking you to medicine man. Then we talk about what you want. I have your weapon.” Victor took the sword that had been strapped to his own back and handed it to the knight.
Taking the blade, the knight raised an eyebrow. “You are nothing like the stories I've heard about your people.”
“That's trouble with humans. You think all stories you hear true.”
“Where’s my horse?”
“What horse?”
“The horse with me? Didn’t you see it?”
“Not see any horse.”
“Well, he should return to the castle, so carry on.”
Picayune followed the orc through the picturesque landscape of the forest, constantly looking in all directions.
“What's wrong human?”
Standing still, Picayune watched the orc continue to move through the foliage. “Where are all the man-eating spiders? Where are the bent trees ready to consume the unwary? Where are all the horrible things that I've heard about this forest? How can they possibly all be made up?”
“Don't know. Don't hear stories. Why would we live here if they true?”
Picayune blinked his eyes and stood dumbfounded, trying to think of a reasonable response. He cracked a smile. “Pets?”
The orc snorted loud enough for it to echo in the trees. “I stick with pet wolves. Come,” he told the knight. He walked past his former enemy deeper into the forest.
For most of the day, Picayune followed Victor through countless landscapes of stunning beauty. He changed his ruddy bandages several times when they became too wet. As the sky showed the first traces of purple and red, Picayune spied a massive walled city on top of an equally impressive hill. Just before the rise, they crossed a well-built wooden bridge over a river so clear he could see all the way to the bottom.
As they approached the front gate, archers appeared on the barbican with arrows pointed at Picayune. The wooden and metal gate ground as it parted inward.
Victor held his arm up and shouted, “This human is with me. No one harms him.” He walked to the gate and pointed to one of the orcs. “Drogher, tell Captain of peace terms. Human won honor combat. Tell medicine man we seek him.”
Drogher saluted and ran through the gate.
Picayune eased his hand off the pommel of his sword and followed Victor into the fort. The score of orcs behind the wall parted while Picayune moved deeper into the fort, and then collapsed the gap and closed the gate.
Victor pointed down one of the clean streets. “Medicine man past center of town. We go now.”
As Picayune followed Victor down one of the busy streets, they passed many inhabitants. Most stared, whispered to one another, and pointed at the pair.
Just as they were about to enter the center of the fort, an orc no more than five years old ran over to Picayune and pulled his tunic. “You a human?”
Picayune glanced at Victor before studying the girl. Then he smiled at the diminutive orc who looked quite similar to a human girl, with the exception of the green skin. “Of course.”
“Where's your tail? Can I see your horns?”
“I don't have a tail or horns.”
“Why not? Did you cut them off?”
With a puzzled expression, Picayune addressed the girl again. “Humans are not born with those things. Who told you we were?”
Victor spoke before the girl could answer. “Enough, Moxie. Go to your mother.”
Moxie skipped back to her mother, who took her hand, yanking her inside a shop.
With a look of confusion on his face, Picayune looked at Victor. “Where do stories like that come from?”
Victor grunted and stopped walking. He huffed as he eyed the human. “She is just child. Surely your kind has same stories about us.”
Picayune sighed and looked away for a moment. Without turning back, he took a deep breath. “You are correct. In fact, I'd say human children tell bigger tales about orcs.”
“There. See? Perhaps you discover we not that much different.”
“Indeed. Maybe one day we will call each other friends.”
Victor continued down the path. “Not quite yet.”
After walking about two more blocks, Victor stopped in front of a two-story building. The exterior, like the rest of the fort, was immaculate. On the top step was a tall orc.
Picayune examined the orc before speaking. The medicine man was wearing an elaborate, wooden headpiece with runes carved on the side. His body was adorned with a robe of brilliant reds, yellows, and greens. His flat nose had an ornamental bone piercing it about midway. “It is an honor to meet you. I am Picayune.”
“My name in my native tongue is Mundunugu. Since you are a human, I don't expect you to be able to speak it, but you may call me Medicine Man.”
Picayune arched an eyebrow at hearing Mundunugu speak perfect Common. “I'd like to try.”
Ignoring the expression, Mundunugu waved them into the house. “Very well. Let's get you fixed up so your business can be completed and you can leave us.”
Picayune followed Mundunugu into the house and was almost overcome by the powerful scent of incense. The medicine man disappeared into a room filled with hazy smoke. Picayune stumbled into the room and flopped into a chair so big, it made him feel like a child.
“Wait here,” Mumdunugu ordered as he left through another door.
Picayune shifted on the oversized cushion, tryin
g to find a comfortable position. After several attempts, he cringed in pain from moving his injured side. He sighed disappointedly to Victor who had just entered. “Why does he hate me so?”
“Many of my people hate humans. No offense to you. It has become our way.”
Before Picayune could reply, Mundunugu returned carrying a small chest. Placing it on the floor in front of Picayune, he opened it with care. He stared at the disheveled human and spat disgustedly on the floor at Victor’s feet. “And this is the one that defeated you, our best warrior?”
Victor gritted his teeth. “That is not your concern.”
Mundunugu threw his hands in the air. “Yes, I know. I just fix the injuries your foolishness causes. But this isn't the place to discuss that now, is it?” He rose with a vial and a pair of scissors in his hands. “Hold this,” he commanded Picayune.
After Picayune grabbed the vial, Mundunugu lifted the human's tunic, yanked the tightly wrapped, sodden bandages, and cut them away. The medicine man snatched the vial from the shocked knight and poured it on the open wound. The foul-smelling liquid hissed as the white, bubbly foam seared the skin. Picayune almost jumped out of the chair, but a firm hand from the medicine man held him in place. Mundunugu picked up a pitcher of water from the floor and poured it over the spot. The refreshing water removed all traces of blood and the healing agent, and revealed smooth human skin.
Picayune looked down and ran his hand over the spot in disbelief. He hit the area a few times with his fist, feeling no pain with the impact. “How did you do that?”
Mundunugu spat at Picayune's feet this time. “If you humans took time to learn about the world, you'd know how to fix simple injuries.”
Victor walked over and put his hand on the shaman's shoulder. “Now is not time.” He looked at the human. “Picayune, it’s late. Let's go to feasting hall. We discuss terms in morning.”
Picayune followed Victor out into the crisp, autumn night. Tall, lit torches had been placed in various corners of the streets. He marveled at how quaint and peaceful everything looked. “I still can't believe just how nice your town is.”
