“Yeah!” said Dingleberry, unsheathing her needle and leaping off the long table to hover beside the dwarf.
“ENOUGH!”
A great shockwave of energy blasted out from Kazimir and pushed them all staggering backwards.
“I have not yet had my dinner. Do not test me when I have not had my dinner,” Kazimir warned.
“You still deny that the Prophecy of the Dragon Champions is a lie?” said Valkimir, refusing to back down.
“Valiant knight. Say, for a moment, that what you believe is true. Say that I am some evil charlatan who sends fools to their deaths once every generation to save the entirety of the continent of Fallacetine. Say that your friends are simply food to keep the great Drak’Noir pacified. Say all of this is true. What do you intend to do about it? Warn them? Save them? And say that you do, and no one feeds the dragon this generation. What, pray tell, do you think she will do?”
“The world will burn,” came the terrified, chattering voice of Wendel from the shadows.
Valkimir, Hagus, Caressa, and Dingleberry all exchanged thoughtful glances.
“Whether you agree with it or not, the Champions of the Dragon are heroes one and all, and will be remembered as such, whether they make it back alive or not. But I can tell you this, I have held back the black dragon every generation by choosing able champions to challenge her. This batch will be no different.”
“You expect us to believe you?” said Valkimir. “Brannon is no champion, and from what I have heard from the others, none of them are champions, save perhaps Sir Eldrick, the drunken fool.”
“Perhaps you should all reconsider your opinion of your friends. Would you all be that surprised to know that they have already defeated bandits, survived the darklings, and escaped a cyclops den together, and all without much help from me?”
“Why should we believe ye?” Hagus asked, though he wanted to believe that his son was the champion that Kazimir spoke of.
“Believe me or nay. I do not so much care, as long as you stay away from them all. They are finally gaining some confidence as a group, and I don’t need you four—”
“Five!” yelled Wendel from the shadows.
Kazimir scowled at him and looked back to the others. “I don’t need you all bringing them down. Do we understand each other?”
Valkimir nodded grimly. Caressa stood, staring defiantly. Dingleberry mocked the princess’s pose. And Hagus spit on the ground at the wizard’s feet.
“Good,” said Kazimir turning with a flourish of robes toward the road. As if on second thought, he stopped and turned back. “I will leave you with my well wishes, and a gift for you all. Please, enjoy my humble offering, and know that if I see you anywhere west of here, I will turn you all into pigs.”
He waggled his fingers, and there was a boom and flash of light.
***
Far away, one Lord Hegglesberth circled the bed, upon which there lay six prostitutes. He was excited about this batch, for it contained two men, one elven and one human, an exotic human woman, a dwarf female with a beard and a leather whip, and a male pixie less than a foot tall.
“Who would like to rub honey oil on my back and lick it off?” Lord Hegglesberth asked, fingering his deep belly button.
Just then a voice shrieked with delight, and there came a banging on the door to the bed chamber.
“I’m home!” came the voice of his wife.
Lord Hegglesberth turned with a jerk and looked, terrified, toward the door. “Is that you, my b-b-beloved?”
“Yes, yes. I have returned early from my trip. Open the door. I have so much to tell you.”
The lord paced back and forth, biting his nails and glancing nervously at the prostitutes, who all looked quite bored.
“Oh no…” he said, clawing at his hair. “Oh, no, no, no…”
“Dearest…Herbert! Open the door.”
“Ah…hold on, you woke me. I’m trying to light a lamp.”
“Herbert Henry Hegglesberth…” the voice was even and dangerous. “Do you have someone in there with you?”
“What?” he said, laughing nervously. “Of course not.”
He heard her heavy feet marching away and knew that she was going to get a set of keys from one of the guards.
“Hide!” he hissed at the prostitutes.
“Where do you expect us to do that?” said the pixie in his high-pitched squeak.
The pounding feet returned up the hall, and Lord Hegglesberth bit his knuckle, spinning in circles. He grabbed the bottle of wine, looking for a place to hide it, and considered jumping out the window.
Suddenly there was a boom and a flash of light, and the bed, along with all six of the prostitutes, disappeared.
The door opened, and a stupefied Hegglesberth stood, holding the bottle and smiling dopily at his wife.
“Welcome home, dear. You caught me redecorating!”
“Why, you sweet, sweet man,” said Lady Hegglesberth, kissing her husband on top of his bald head.
Lord Hegglesberth happily accepted a hug from his wife, and he glanced over at the dusty spot on the floor where the bed had been, wondering of his luck.
***
A bed full of leather- and lace-clad prostitutes appeared beside the fire, and Kazimir turned and disappeared into the night with a WHOOSH.
Valkimir glanced at Caressa. “Is he serious?”
Caressa did not answer, however, enamored as she was with the incredibly well-endowed elf on the bed. She just stared, cocking her head to the left to get a better angle.
“I’ll tell ye this,” said Hagus gruffly, nevertheless admiring the leather-clad dwarf woman and her neatly braided beard. “Anyone who tries to buy ye off like this got somethin’ to hide. Now, if ye’ll excuse me. The lass there looks rather confused.”
Valkimir gave a laugh as the dwarven hog farmer walked over to the bed and introduced himself to the bearded lass. “He’s got a point.”
“Indeed,” said Caressa, shaking herself out of her little trance. “What should we do? Kazimir had a point about Drak’Noir. If she is not fed…Well, you know what will happen.”
“Big-big fire-fire. Big-big death,” said Dingleberry.
“Then we’ll just have to help the champions kill that blasted dragon once and for all,” said Hagus, returning with the lass under his arm. He smiled at them all. “Now if ye don’t mind, we be retirin’ to me tent.”
Valkimir and Caressa watched him go, mulling over what he had said.
“I call dibs on the sprite!” said Wendel, rubbing his boney hands together.
Chapter 30
A Trial by Flesh
Sir Eldrick stared out the window at the waning moon. Queen Elzabethalynn lay against his chest, her warm hand resting on his cheek. The warm summer breeze blew in softly, cool against their wet skin. The glow of lovemaking still flushed their cheeks, and they held each other in silence, savoring the rare moment.
He kissed her forehead and held her tight, pressing himself against her.
“Already?” she said with a musical laugh.
“With a woman such as you in my arms, how can I help it?” he said, kissing her again.
She moved on top of him and kissed him deeply.
“Elza, I Love you—”
Suddenly the door burst open. The queen leapt off and pulled the silk sheet up to her chin. Sir Eldrick’s instincts screamed, and dread filled his heart.
King Henry Winterthorn pushed past the guard and stopped dead when he saw the two. His wide eyes moved over Sir Eldrick, and then found the queen.
“Leave us,” he told the guard in an even voice.
The door closed.
King Henry stared at Sir Eldrick, and to the knight’s surprise, there was not anger, but sorrow.
“Henry—” the queen began.
“No,” he said, calmly. “Do not speak, for I neither wish to hear your lies, nor your apologies.”
Sir Eldrick stood, and the king walked to stand in front of him
. “Henry, my King. It was not her fault—”
“Liar!” King Henry backhanded Sir Eldrick, his jagged ring leaving a cut across his cheek. The blood slowly pooled in the corner of his mouth. “I should kill you here and now,” said the king as he unsheathed his sword.
Sir Eldrick bowed his head to the king. “If you wish for me to die, my King, then I shall die.”
King Henry pointed the sword at Sir Eldrick’s chest, his arm trembling, eyes pooling with tears.
“You have broken my heart,” said the king. “Both of you. But I will not kill you. For if indeed you love me, then you shall live with your guilt, and you shall feel the pain of it forever.”
He lowered the sword and put a hand to the side of Sir Eldrick’s face. “My old friend. Go now. Leave this kingdom and never return. If I see you after this day, know that you will die.”
Sir Eldrick awoke from the dream with a terrible headache pounding in his temples. There was bright light everywhere, and the smell of flowers permeated the air, making his head swoon even more. Had he passed out in a perfume shop? he wondered.
“Drink this, you will feel better,” an angelic voice told him.
He felt a cold rim touch his lips and drank what was offered, not having the strength to object. In a flash his headache, dizziness, and exhaustion disappeared, and he found himself looking at a pointy-eared and winged female fairy no more than three feet tall.
She gave a cherubic giggle and flew away on quick green wings, and Sir Eldrick gasped when he realized where he was. The chamber walls were made of pure glowing white ivory, arched and smooth like the inside of an eggshell. All the way up the walls were ascending rows of balconies, from which thousands of fairies large and small stared down at him, their wings buzzing.
Sir Eldrick rose from the chair he had been apparently sleeping in, and noticed that the floor of the arena-like chamber was covered in fairy dust rather than sand. Had he been on a fairy dust bender again?
“Sir Knight!” a voice, pure and smooth and laced with seduction, echoed through the dome.
Sir Eldrick turned reluctantly, and there, sitting in the most lavish of balconies, was the queen of the fae, Tittianya.
“Good Queen,” he said with a bow, though he was unable to take his eyes off her golden skin and those deep, green, heavily-lashed eyes. “I am honored to be in your presence. But I must ask, how did I get here?”
A fairy bent and whispered in the queen’s ear, and she yawned and waved the servant away. “You have trespassed on fairy soil without leave. The punishment is death. How do you plead?”
Sir Eldrick scoffed, then laughed, then glanced around at the unimpressed crowd and gulped. “Well, Your Highness, I can assure you that if I have trespassed on your soil, I have not done so out of malice or ill intent.”
“Your intent is not in question, only the fact that you are here, which is proof of your crime. Do you have any last words?”
“Last words? Look, I am—”
“We do not care who you are or who you know. Faeland does not care about the mortals of the mainland.”
Sir Eldrick straightened, trying to think of a way out of yet another alcohol-induced catastrophe.
“If you have no last words, your sentence shall be carried out immediately.”
“I demand a trial by flesh!” said Sir Eldrick, seeing the wine glass in her hand.
The queen gave a musical laugh, and the gathered fairies joined in. “You, a human? You cannot be serious,” she said, though her actions gave away her intrigue as she leaned to look him over more closely from her high perch.
“Bring me closer,” she said to no one in particular, and the balcony that she sat upon began to float toward him. It stopped a few feet from him, and the queen stepped off.
Sir Eldrick was paralyzed by her beauty, and tried but failed to keep his eyes above her shoulders. Tittianya, queen of the fae, stood five feet tall, with an ample bosom and a backside that Sir Eldrick thought he could set a drink on while she was standing. All of this was contained by a pink silk robe that did nothing from stopping the glowing light of the chamber from poking through.
He gulped. “I demand a trial by flesh,” he managed to croak out.
She looked him up and down, and walked three circles around him. “What do you think?” she asked the gathered fairies.
The place went wild with cheering, and fairy dust rained down on them. Sir Eldrick held his breath, knowing better than to breathe in the exotic stimulant at a time such as this.
“Very well,” said the queen, grabbing his face so that his cheeks smooshed together. “Bring the bed.”
Sir Eldrick had hoped to put on a private performance, and he glanced warily at the crowd of fairies. “Might I have something to wet my whistle?” he asked, bowing before the queen. “I am parched.”
“Bring the defendant wine!” Queen Tittianya demanded, and a cask of wine was promptly brought before him.
The bed, which was ten feet long by ten feet wide and covered with a plethora of white furs and pillows, was carried to the center of the arena. Sir Eldrick drank down the entirety of the cask and cockily climbed up onto the bed and stripped out of his armor. He stood before the queen, who was regarding him with an arched brow, though her eyes were not on his.
“Prepare to fall in love,” he said, spreading his arms wide and offering her his most charming smile.
Three hours later, Sir Eldrick dressed himself to the crashing applause of the roaring crowd and took a bow. The queen, who was being fanned by two scantily clad fairies, lay back against the pillows, panting and glistening with sweat.
“You have proven yourself innocent, as is dictated by the trial by flesh,” she said breathlessly.
Sir Eldrick raised his fist to the crowd and downed another glass of wine.
The queen rose with the help of two hovering fairies and flew on golden wings to land before him. “Good Knight,” she said, and then leaned in so that only he might hear. “I would ask that you stay with us for a time. I could use someone with your firmness of…sword.”
Sir Eldrick considered her offer. He would much rather be the fae queen’s plaything than travel to Bad Mountain. Perhaps he could just disappear here, and never be found by Kazimir. No, he realized, the wizard would probably find him one way or another. Of course, Tittianya might be able to protect him…
He was about to take her up on the offer when he thought of the other champions. Gibrig had saved his life, he remembered. His mixed feelings swirled in his mind, and he gave a sigh.
“Ah, my fairest of queens, would that I could. But you see, I am one of the five Champions of the Dragon. I must march to Bad Mountain and fight the dreaded Drak’Noir.”
She clutched her chest and paced before him, acting suddenly distraught.
“Oh, my dear, brave, brave Sir Eldrick,” she said, touching his cheek with her soft, golden palm. She put her hands out before her, and suddenly a long, glowing blade that looked to be made of glass appeared, resting upon her palms. “Please, take this as my token. It is the blade Cryst. Forged from the crystalline wings of the god of fairies, it is said to be unbreakable, and will penetrate anything that you thrust it into.”
Sir Eldrick raised a brow and took the offered weapon. “I do not know how to thank you, Tittianya.”
She leaned forward and kissed him long on the lips, then whispered in his ear, “You can thank me when you return from Bad Mountain.”
“Very well,” he said, sheathing the blade and turning for the door without looking back. The cheers of the gathered fairies followed him out of the arena, and he couldn’t help but smile.
“There you are!” came the voice of Kazimir as Sir Eldrick walked out of the arena and into the starless night.
“High Wizard, funny meeting you here,” said Sir Eldrick.
“What in the worlds am I going to do with you?” the wizard asked, shaking his head.
“Don’t even start. I didn’t drink on purpose. I was forced
to by the cyclopes due to that clever dwarf Gibrig.”
“Yes, yes, well, I have come to bring you back before you have thoughts of staying here.”
“What happened to the others?”
“Surprisingly, they are doing just fine. Murland has led them north back to the road. They are waiting as we speak.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Yes,” said Kazimir. “Yes, you will, if you keep on like you have been. Dammit, man, caught by bandits? Captured by cyclopes. And whatever the hells else you’ve been doing these last few days. I had thought you a worthy leader. Perhaps I have been wrong.”
“No, of course not. You were right to believe in me. I will lead the others to Bad Mountain. Drak’Noir will be quenched.”
Kazimir studied the knight’s sincerity and finally nodded.
“Very well, come with me then.”
Sir Eldrick took the wizard’s gnarled hand, and everything went black.
Chapter 31
A Drunken Knight’s Tale
Murland and the others were just settling in to a meager dinner of corn and grubs when there came a brilliant flash of light and a whoosh.
When their eyes adjusted to the campfire light once again, they were surprised to see Kazimir and Sir Eldrick standing before them.
“Holy witch tits!” Murland blurted, spilling his plate as he stood erect.
“See, I don’t get why he can’t just whoosh us to Bad Mountain,” said Willow, scratching her head.
“Sir Eldrick!” Gibrig cried and flung himself at the knight.
“Ha ha, fear not, my brave champions, for I have returned to you whole and ready to continue,” said Sir Eldrick.
Beside him, Kazimir rolled his eyes.
“Where did you run off to?” Brannon asked.
“That, my fair elven friend, is a long story, a long story indeed.”
Champions of the Dragon: (Humorous Fantasy) (Epic Fallacy Book 1) Page 22
