He wiggled through the small opening and tumbled inside, bouncing down the rubble on the other side and coming to a stop in the darkness.
“Hello? Where is everyone?” he whispered to the dark.
His eyes adjusted quickly, and the faintest of light came from a tunnel far to the back of the cave.
“Where did you guys g—”
Gibrig stopped, for strange voices echoed suddenly. He crept along, making for the faintly lit tunnel. It went on for a few dozen feet, and the pungent odor of unwashed bodies and wet moss assaulted Gibrig’s nose.
“I told you, we’re only cooking one. Now hurry up and decide. Margi’s hungry.”
The voice was just around the next corner, and Gibrig stopped at the last bend in the tunnel, shaking uncontrollably.
“What’s that smell?” came another, deeper voice.
“Smells like dwarf!” said the female voice.
Gibrig thought to turn and run away as fast as he could, climb out of the cave and…and what? The storm was too much for him to bear, the mounts were gone, and his friends were in trouble.
The rumbling of heavy footsteps drew near, and Gibrig bravely jumped out into the open.
“Ah!” he yelled, meaning to seem fierce, but upon seeing the two giant cyclopes, his roar turned to a high-pitched scream.
“What’s this?” said the female cyclops, stopping and bending to get a better look at Gibrig. “A human who smells like a dwarf?”
“Don’t t-t-touch me!” said Gibrig. “I…I be cursed! Transformed by a wizard to look like a human.”
The male cyclops positioned himself defensively in front of his mate and studied Gibrig with a scowl. “What you doing here, man-dwarf?”
“Them be me friends,” said Gibrig, pointing at the others hanging in the nets. “And we all be friends o’ the great and powerful Kazimir. Ye best be lettin’ us all go, less ye be wantin’ to incur his wrath!”
“Kazimir, you say?” said the male. “I never heard of no Kazimir.”
“You never heard of nothing,” said Margi, slapping him and pushing past to stand before Gibrig. “You are all friends of Kazimir, so you say. But how do we know?”
“Just look at me,” said Gibrig, arms wide. “How else does a dwarf get turned into a human?”
“Let the wizard come. We’ll eat him too,” said Egbert with a toothy grin on his big, round face.
“Shut up!” Margi told him with a slap.
“Best ye let us go now, and no harm’ll come to ye. I give ye me word,” said Gibrig, glancing at the others.
“We don’t want no trouble from that Kazimir,” Margi told her mate. “I heard tell tales of that one. An evil one he is.”
Egbert scratched his head by his small curved horn and glanced at the hanging companions. “Well bat turds, Margi. We can’t let them all go. Even a wizard knows you don’t walk into a cyclops den and come out without a scratch. What would the others think if they heard?”
“He’s right,” Margi told Gibrig. “We can’t let you all go. We will keep one. That one!” she said, pointing at Willow.
“No, no, you don’t want that one. Look at her, all green and bloated. She is sure to be foul tasting. Besides, she’s got that…that swamp fever.”
“She does?” said Egbert, looking closely at the very angry, and very upside down ogre.
“Then we’ll take the fair elf,” said Margi.
Again, Gibrig shook his head. “Oh, no, no. He is just skin and bones. Hardly any meat on him.”
“What about that one?” said Egbert, pointing at Murland.
“He’s a wizard’s apprentice. And everyone knows that eating magical people will give you an upset stomach for weeks. Why not eat the knight? Very valiant. Very tasty.”
Sir Eldrick’s eyes went wide, but Gibrig just offered him a small shrug.
The two cyclopes looked Sir Eldrick over like he was meat hanging at market, and finally nodded to each other.
“Fine, you’ve got a deal,” said Margi. “But first he goes in the pot. And you will all watch. See what happens to trespassers who walk in our den unannounced.”
Egbert took down the net holding Sir Eldrick and dragged him over to the cauldron. He was about to pick up the knight and toss him in the boiling water when Gibrig suddenly blurted out, “Wait!”
“What now? I’m hungry,” said Egbert.
“The knight is strong, and very tough. If I may, I would suggest softening him up with some beer. Me pap and I always soften up our livestock before we eat ‘em. Makes the meat nice and soft and juicy.”
“I’ll eat him tough, I don’t care,” said Egbert, but his mate shook her head and raised a staying hand.
“Makes the meat more tender, you say?”
“Juicy and tender,” said Gibrig, rubbing his tummy. “Mmmm.”
“Can’t hurt. Egbert, gimme a bottle from the back.”
“Awe, come on. I’m hungry now!” Egbert protested.
“Move your lazy no-good-for-nothing blue butt!” Margi yelled.
Sulking, Egbert did as he was told, and returned from the back of the cave with a pint bottle of beer. He uncorked it, helped Sir Eldrick to sit up, and slid the bottle through the net so that the knight could drink it. Sir Eldrick greedily gulped down the entire bottle, winking at Gibrig.
“Best ye give him a few more,” said Gibrig, stepping back a pace.
Egbert grumbled, but after a scowl from his mate, he retrieved two more and fed them to Sir Eldrick.
“Now he goes into the pot!” Egbert told them all, even eyeing his wife angrily.
She nodded.
Gibrig watched nervously as the cyclops grabbed the net with a yank. But Sir Eldrick slipped out somehow, and the cyclops staggered back with the momentum. Baffled, he looked to the frayed net and then to Sir Eldrick. The knight stood grinning, holding a dagger in his hand. He tossed the dagger into the air and caught it by the blade, and suddenly flung it at Egbert.
The dagger hit him square in the middle of his big blue eye and stuck. Egbert gave a howl and staggered back into the wall as his mate screamed in horror and rage.
“Watch out!” said Gibrig, but Sir Eldrick saw Margi’s big red hand coming for him. He flipped into the air as she grabbed for him, leaping over the reaching hand and landing on the wrist. Sir Eldrick unsheathed his sword and ran up her arm even as she reeled back. He took three quick strides and jumped, avoiding her other hand and slashing her one big eye with his long sword before sailing over her shoulder.
Margi howled and grabbed her wounded eyeball as Sir Eldrick landed and rolled into a crouch. The cyclops staggered back, screaming, and tripped over the knight.
Gibrig leapt out of the way just in time as the big red cyclops fell flat on her back. He ran to the others, who were still stuck in their nets, and began hurriedly cutting Murland’s rope with his own dagger.
“Do mine first!” said Willow beside them.
Gibrig sawed frantically, glancing over his shoulder at the fight. Egbert had gotten to his feet and was blindly thrashing about the cave. He punched at the air and kicked, knocking over the boiling cauldron and dousing his mate, and oh how Margi howled.
Gibrig finally cut through the net enough for Murland to scramble out, and he hurriedly began working on Willow’s.
“What about me!” Brannon shrieked when the stomping Egbert’s foot crashed down two feet away.
Murland finally fished his own small knife out of his pocket and began sawing Brannon’s rope.
“Hurry, hurry!” the elf prince cried.
Sir Eldrick was now riding Egbert’s back, having wrapped the netting around the cyclops’s neck. He yanked on the two ends of the netting as hard as he could, and Egbert grabbed at his throat, desperately trying to get a finger under the ropes.
Murland finally freed Brannon just as Willow ripped her way out of her net.
“Watch out!” Brannon suddenly screamed at Murland and pushed him out of the way as a giant foot came down an
d smashed the stone right where he had been standing. Brannon tripped and fell on his back as Egbert spun wildly and came down again right on top of the elf.
“No!” cried Murland, but just as the foot came down, Brannon unsheathed his sword and wedged the hilt in the crook of his arm, pointy end up.
Egbert’s foot came down hard on the sword, and he suddenly hopped, moments before he would have crushed a shocked-looking Brannon.
Willow tackled the cyclops behind the knees, buckling them, and forced the choking behemoth to the ground, right on top of Margi.
Sir Eldrick did a backflip off Egbert’s back and landed neatly beside the groaning cyclopes, drawing back his blade for a great blow.
“Don’t kill them!” Gibrig cried out, and Sir Eldrick paused in his strike, giving Margi just enough time to bat him away with her meaty fist.
Sir Eldrick hit the wall behind the companions but sprang to his feet.
“They’re beat, see?” said Gibrig, blocking the way. “They’re runnin’.”
The two cyclopes were scrambling to their feet all in a rush, and they hurriedly headed for the tunnel blindly. They ran into the wall, bounced off, and tried again, this time finding the tunnel.
“Get out of my way!” said Sir Eldrick, pushing the dwarf aside and running down the tunnel after them.
“What you guys waiting for?” said Willow, looking to be having the time of her life. She turned and raced after the knight.
“Come on!” said Murland, running after them.
They rushed down the tunnel, where Sir Eldrick’s taunts and challenges echoed off the walls. There was a terrible crashing sound that shook the cave, and as Gibrig came around the corner, he saw that the two cyclopes had smashed through the blocked-up entrance. Willow was just ambling over the debris, and Sir Eldrick was nowhere to be seen.
Hurrying to the entrance, Gibrig and the others found that the storm had passed, though it was dark and wet outside, and the wind moaned, as though it were the voice of the wounded world.
“Willow, wait!” Gibrig cried, hurrying to catch up to her as she disappeared into the gathering mist.
Together with Brannon and Murland, Gibrig raced after Willow. Soon, however, she stopped, and when they caught up to her, panting, she hissed at them to be quiet and raised a staying hand.
Everyone listened, but the night was quiet.
“Sir Eldrick’s goin’ to get lost,” said Gibrig through chattering teeth.
“We’re all lost,” said Brannon.
“Quiet!” Willow told them both.
Again, they listened. A minute passed, and then two, and finally Willow lowered her hand.
“Oh, what do we do?” Gibrig asked miserably.
“We find the mounts and get the hells out of here,” said Brannon. “Sir Eldrick can fend for himself.”
“I can’t smell Sir Eldrick or the cyclopes anymore,” Willow told them, her shoulders dropping.
Murland glanced from one to the other, but they all just stared at him, waiting for him to say something.
“I think…I agree with Brannon. We need to find the mounts. Sir Eldrick is drunk. And what did he say about beer? He goes off on adventures for days? We can’t depend on him right now, and it appears that we can’t depend on Kazimir either. Come on, let’s try and find the mounts.”
He seemed surprised when everyone nodded agreement and waited for him to lead the way.
Murland nodded and pulled up his trousers. “Alright then,” he said, and began heading north but then stopped, regarding Brannon. “You saved my life back there. Thank you, that sure was some fast thinking.”
Brannon straightened and gave him a nod. “You are welcome.”
“And you,” Murland said to Gibrig, “you saved all of us.”
Gibrig blushed and kicked at a stone. “Aww, I didn’t do nothin’ really. Was Sir Eldrick and Willow done beat the cyclopes.”
“Are you kidding?” said Brannon dubiously. “That was brilliant what you did, tricking the two big dummies like that.”
“Thanks,” said Gibrig, beaming.
Chapter 27
Tales from the Crow’s Nest
Hagus Hogstead came to King’s Crossing and reined in his mountain ram. “Whoa there, Billy,” he said before dismounting.
He led the ram cautiously to the crossing, watching the tall grass on the Fire Swamp and Vhalovia side with suspicion. The jingling of chains made him stop, and he brought his shovel to bear, scanning the crossing of the five roads.
“Pssst! You there! Got any rum?”
The voice came from the crow’s nest hanging above the point between Vhalovia and Magestra.
“Who’s that?” said Hagus.
“Wendel, Wendel, just poor Wendel. Wendel is food for crows. But Wendel, Wendel, oh poor Wendel, secrets Wendel knows.” The raspy, wet voice gave Hagus the chills, but like a dwarf, he marched forth bravely and faced the strange riddler.
Upon seeing that “Wendel” was nothing more than a skeleton in rags, he rubbed his eyes in disbelief and looked around for a prankster.
“Boo!” Wendel yelled and suddenly came to life, leaping up and banging on the bars.
Hagus jumped straight up in the air two feet and slapped the cage instinctively with his shovel. “Why ye blasted devil!” he cried, and hit the cage again. Upon realizing what he was looking at, his eyes widened, and he took a step back.
“Hahaha!” Wendel cackled and fell on the floor, skeletal legs dancing in the air. “The dwarf nearly shat his pants he did!”
“Shut yer cursed mouth, ye beast,” said Hagus, and turned from the wretch to study the road to the west.
“Wait, wait! The dwarf never answered Wendel’s question.”
“I don’t talk to spirits,” said Hagus, and glancing at the sign below the crow’s nest, he added, “and I don’t talk to no horse thieves either.”
As far as Hagus was concerned, that was that, and he turned once again from the skeleton.
“Wendel has hung here for a year and a day. Wendel sees everyone who comes and goes this way. Wendel can tell the dwarf who he has seen, but first Wendel is thirsty.”
“I ain’t got any blasted rum! Even if I did, there ain’t nothin’ ye can tell me that I can’t find out on me own.”
“Piss off then, dwarf! I hope Drak’Noir eats you too, just like that other ugly dwarf headed west.”
Hagus turned slowly. “What you riddlin’ ‘bout, eh! What other dwarf?”
“Ohh, ahh,” said Wendel, slinking over to the front of the crow’s nest, but avoiding the elven rope tied there. “Dwarf wants to talk with Wendel now. But Wendel is still so thirsty.”
“Dammit, ye cursed skeleton. If ye make me ask again, I’ll rip off yer skull and use it for a bedpan!”
Wendel’s big eyes jiggled in the sockets and he shuddered. “But Wendel is sooo thirsty.”
“Well by the king’s braided arse hair!” Hagus said to himself and glanced around. “Fine, fine,” he told Wendel, handing the skeleton his water flask.
Wendel’s boney arm shot out from between the bars like a striking snake and he snatched up the canteen, popped the lid, and poured it into his mouth. The water hit his spine and splashed all through his ribs and hip bones before pooling on the floor. But Wendel went right on as though his thirst were being quenched.
“Ahh, ohh, yessss, Wendel is happy now. Wendel is happy now.”
“Great, then Wendel can tell Hagus about the ugly dwarf.”
“Looked like a man to me,” said Wendel, lying on the bottom of the crow’s nest and running his fingers across his ribs, creating a hollow but not unpleasant musical sound.
Hagus grabbed the bars, leaning his face in close. “What did ye say? Looked like a man?”
Wendel leisurely picked his teeth with a sun-bleached finger. “Hmm, now Wendel is getting hungry. Can’t think strai—”
Hagus reached through the cage and grabbed Wendel by the spiny throat and pulled his skull hard into the bars.
“Yer words best come fast, else I’ll snap yer neck and make good on me promise. Ye’ll spend yer days in a sack, waiting fer the only sight ye’ll ever see, me own fat hairy arse! Now speak!”
“A Champion of the Dragon he was,” said Wendel, as though his windpipe were being crushed. “Traveled with an elf prince, an ogre, a wizard apprentice, and a knight of Vhalovia. Kazimir himself was with him for a time!”
Hagus released him, and Wendel fell into a fit of coughing and gagging. But the dwarf barely noticed, for he was contemplating the information. It was good, he thought, that Gibrig was with the other companions, for he had worried that his mild-mannered son hadn’t even made it out of Shadow Forest.
“Did he look…happy?” Hagus asked.
“Yes…yes, happy as a pig in shit.”
Hagus turned and scowled at the skeleton.
“I swear,” said Wendel, raising defensive hands and coughing. “I swear he was. I swear.”
“Alright, shut up.” Hagus studied the sign hanging from the crow’s nest, considering the strange skeleton. “What be yer tale, eh? Ye really a horse thief? And how the hells ye still talkin’?”
Wendel looked to Hagus with wonderment, and his floating orbs even teared up. “No one has ever asked Wendel—”
“Bloody unbreakable stone, man, just answer the damned question.”
“Wendel worked for the king for twenty years. Raised the best horses in Magestra. Raised racing horses for the king. One broke its leg in a race. Beauty, Beauty was her name. King ordered Beauty killed. But Wendel loved that horse. Wendel really did. So Wendel take the horse in the back of a wagon out of the city, try to get away, try to save the horse. King’s men find Wendel and Beauty. Kill horse. Have a witch put a curse on Wendel. Wendel wake up in bird cage, already dead, but awake. Maggots and birds and flies and worms eat Wendel, all but the eyes. Wendel felt it all. But Wendel can never, ever, ever die.”
Hagus felt sick, and a pang of sorrow and sympathy for the cursed horse trainer made his heart ache.
Champions of the Dragon: (Humorous Fantasy) (Epic Fallacy Book 1) Page 19
