by F. P. Spirit
Aksel cleared his throat. “We do not recognize Sir Fafnar’s right to give orders in the town of Ravenford. We have our own orders from the Baron himself that require our presence at this party. Now kindly move out of our way or we will be forced to move you.”
The Dunwynn riders began to talk among themselves, casting nervous glances at the golem. The lead man replied in that now all too familiar haughty tone. “Those are big words from such a little fellow. I see that you ride a stone man. Are you a golem master or a great wizard perhaps?”
“Why, yes. In fact, I am a great wizard,” Aksel said, keeping his expression neutral. He leaned forward and stared intently at the rider. “Perhaps you have heard of me. My name is Maltar.”
The leader of the Dunwynn troop was visibly startled, his face blanching at the mention of the wizard’s name. The corners of Aksel mouth upturned slightly. This was going to be fun. He cast a quick glance at his companions. Elladan and Donnie stood straight-faced, the latter resting his hand nonchalantly on his sword hilt. Lloyd glared unflinchingly at the Dunwynn riders, his arms now folded across his chest. Glo wore a serious expression, though one eyebrow was raised. Seth wore a wicked grin. Only Martan seemed uneasy. The archer gazed up at him as if he were crazed. Aksel turn his eyes back to the blockade. The lead rider had regained his composure, yet he did not sound quite so self-assured this time.
“If you are the Wizard Maltar, as you claim to be, then show us some magic.”
“Very well. If you insist.” The little cleric made a grand gesture of rolling up his sleeves. He weaved his hands in a circular pattern. As both his hands came together in front of him he spoke the words, “Cras Placerat”.
The Dunwynn riders were suddenly surrounded by four brightly glowing spheres of light. The lights hung over their heads for a few moments, then began to spin around them faster and faster. The riders watched the spinning globes uncomfortably, shading their eyes with their hands. Some of them even visibly flinched. They were obviously not very familiar with magic.
Seth let out a wicked laugh. “They’re not very bright.”
Aksel felt quite satisfied with the riders’ reactions. He called out, “Is that good enough for you?”
The lead rider did not appear spooked like the rest of his men. Yet his haughty attitude had disappeared. “You may be a conjurer at that, but we still have our orders. You may not pass.”
“Enough of these idiots,” Seth said in exasperation. “We’re wasting time. Let’s go. If they’re too stupid to move out of the way, then it’s their own fault.”
Aksel had to agree. This was getting them nowhere. He called out to the lead rider, “Very well, you leave us no choice.” He concentrated briefly, and The Boulder moved forward.
“Anyone want to bet on how long it takes them to move out of the way?” he heard Donnie say.
“I give them until The Boulder is within ten feet,” Elladan answered.
Seth wore a wicked smirk. “Personally, I don’t care if they move or not.”
Aksel watched the Dunwynn riders as they closed in on them. They appeared quite nervous. The horses began to whinny and buck. “Hold, I said!” the lead soldier cried out. He whirled around in his saddle to chastise his men. His attempts were in vain. As The Boulder drew closer, the riders and their mounts became more and more frightened. The lead rider had turned back around. He was so intent on the stone golem that he no longer noticed his men. When The Boulder was nearly on top of them, he cried out one last time. “Wait! You can’t!” Yet it was to no avail. The stone golem continued to trudge forward. Aksel sat astride the tall creature, doing his best to keep a straight face. He was nearly on top of the blockade. Below him, the riders and their mounts grew frantic. The blockade broke ranks just before The Boulder waded into them. Spurring their already-frightened horses, the riders quickly moved to either side of the road.
“Guess they’re braver than I thought,” he heard Elladan say.
Donnie and Seth laughed. Aksel had to admit that this minor victory against the pompous Dunwynners felt good. A smile crept across his face. The little company moved forward at a steady pace up the road. The blue-clad soldiers made no further attempts to stop them. Instead, they fell in behind and followed them up the hill. The company had almost reached the gates of the keep when another rider trotted through the entrance. The familiar figure, garbed in a powder-blue doublet, rode down to meet them.
“What goes on here?” Sir Fafnar cried. “I thought I told you to keep these varlets away from the castle. Especially with that thing,” he finished, staring disdainfully at The Boulder.
Aksel halted the golem once more. He was curious as to how this would play out. They were now in front of Ravenford keep. It wouldn’t be long until someone noticed the gathering outside the gate, then let Sir Fafnar explain his actions.
“I’m sorry, Sir, but they would not stop,” a voice called from behind them. Aksel spun around and saw the lead rider spur his horse forward. He rode around them and up to the Dunwynn noble.
“Well then, you should have forced them to,” Fafnar responded peevishly. He fixed the man with an unrelenting glare. “These are mere ruffians. You are trained Dunwynn troops. You cannot tell me you are afraid of these upstarts?”
The lead rider’s face went pale. “N-no, Sir! It’s just...”
“It’s just that they had no stomach to face us,” Donnie finished for him.
“I guess your troops are not as brave as you think,” Glo added with obvious pleasure.
Fafnar spun toward them. “I was not talking to you non-humans,” he spat contemptuously. “You may have frightened my soldiers, but you will not get through me so easily.” He sat tall in his saddle and glared at them, as if daring them to make a move to get past him.
Aksel was tempted to spur The Boulder onward. He was curious to see what the arrogant noble would do, but then Lloyd stepped out in front of the party and spoke. “We’ll just see about that.” There was a dangerous edge to his voice.
Fafnar recognized it as well. He began to dismount his horse when a familiar voice rang out from behind him.
“What goes on here?”
Aksel peered toward the gate. A Ravenford guard strode out of the keep. He recognized the guard immediately. It was Francis! Fafnar spun around and spied the guard approaching. He addressed him in that all-too-familiar arrogant tone. “These ruffians were headed up to the keep. I explained that the likes of them would not be welcome here.”
Francis gazed past the man, at the companions. A look of recognition crossed his face and his expression quickly changed to one of confusion. He turned back to Sir Fafnar. “Why there must be some mistake. These are the Heroes of Ravenford. They are honored guests at tonight’s proceedings.”
“Indeed, there must be,” Fafnar replied, his tone practically icy. He was obviously displeased at being questioned by the Ravenford guard. “We ran into these hooligans in the town a little while ago. I cannot believe that the likes of them are invited to tonight’s festivities.”
Francis opened his mouth to speak again, then stopped. He gazed at Aksel, still looking quite perplexed. Aksel merely shrugged. The last thing he wanted was to cause the kind guard any trouble. Amazingly, the group followed his cue and remained silent. Not even Seth had a smart remark. “There must be some mistake here,” Francis finally managed. “I will fetch the Captain. He’ll be able to straighten this out.” With that, Francis spun around and hurried back up toward the gate.
“Uh, oh,” Donnie taunted, “now you’re in trouble now.”
There were a few snickers from amongst the companions. Fafnar declined to respond. He sat silently on his horse, a sour expression on his face. Aksel and the others waited patiently for the proverbial axe to fall. It didn’t take long. Barely two minutes went by when Captain Gelpas came storming through the gate and down the
path toward them. He did not appear happy.
“What the blazes goes on here? The party is tonight, and there is still much to do.”
“These morons won’t let us into the castle,” Seth said before anyone else could speak. It was times like these that Aksel loved the halfling’s bluntness. He could not help but smile at his concise description of the problem.
Fafnar spun in his saddle to face the Captain. When he spoke, his tone was haughty. “I’m certain that these elves and whatnot are not on the guest list.”
“Of course they are!” Gelpas cried, staring at Fafnar as if he was daft. “They’re honored guests of the Baron and Baroness. In fact, their presence is essential at tonight’s proceedings.”
Sir Fafnar gazed down at the Captain, his expression changing to one of shock. He gazed over at the companions, then turned back toward Captain Gelpas. The noble opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“Would you look at that,” Donnie said with clear enjoyment, “he’s actually speechless. Never thought I’d see the day.”
Aksel stifled a laugh. The other companions reacted similarly. The corners of Captain Gelpas’s mouth upturned slightly, but somehow he managed to keep a straight face. “Now I’m sure you are used to giving orders in Dunwynn,” Gelpas said firmly, “but this is Ravenford, Sir Fafnar. Here everyone answers to Baron Gryswold, and I am his right hand. So if you would kindly move yourself and your horse out of the way?”
Fafnar, still recovering from his initial shock, turned red in the face. He was obviously not used to being talked to that way. “Well...” he finally managed, “I... still don’t believe it.” The obstinate noble opened his mouth to say more, then stopped himself. He let out a heavy sigh, then replied with his usual smugness, “Very well. After all, what is one to expect from such a backwater town? One could not anticipate the proper forms of propriety to be followed here.”
Captain Gelpas’s face now reddened. He placed his hands on his hips and glared at the Dunwynn noble. “Are you questioning the Baron’s choice of guests?”
Fafnar’s reply was deliberately measured. “No, no, I wouldn’t dream of questioning the choices of the Barony of Ravenford. By all means, let these ruffians pass and join us inside the keep.” He paused a moment then added, “All but that monstrosity.” He pointed directly at The Boulder. “That is a weapon of war and has no place among the lords and ladies inside. I refuse to let such a thing anywhere near the Duke.”
Gelpas threw up his hands in exasperation. “Sir Fafnar...”
“It’s okay, Captain,” Aksel interrupted him.
Gelpas halted in midsentence. He turned to look at the little cleric. He was still red in the face, but his anger was tempered by his surprise. “Are you sure, Cleric Aksel?”
Aksel retained his composure. “Indeed. We were planning on having The Boulder guard the gate anyway.”
“And I will have guards around it to make sure it stays there,” Fafnar added self-righteously.
“They would be better served patrolling the perimeter,” Aksel pointed out to the stubborn noble, “but you can waste your men however you want.”
“Do not propose to tell me what to do with my men, knave,” Fafnar shot back with indignation.
“Gentlemen!” Gelpas roared. All eyes fell on the Captain. Gelpas, now having everyone’s attention, continued in a more civilized tone. “The Baron is waiting. We have no more time for debate.” He fixed Sir Fafnar with a hard stare. The noble regarded him coolly from his saddle but otherwise remained silent. “Now then, if you will please follow me.” It was more of a statement than a request.
Aksel nodded to the Captain. He took a moment or two to communicate with The Boulder, mentally commanding it to stand guard. Aksel then slid down off The Boulder to the ground below. At the same time, Fafnar waved his troops over. He ordered four of his men to dismount and take up positions around the stone creature. Aksel shook his head in disgust. What a waste of manpower.
“Like that will make any difference,” Elladan commented.
Captain Gelpas watched the proceedings with his arms folded. When the Dunwynn troops were done, he addressed Sir Fafnar, his contempt for the noble thinly veiled. “May we proceed now?”
“By all means,” the Sir Fafnar responded loftily.
Gelpas took a deep breath, then spun around, striding briskly toward the gate. He waved for the others to follow. The companions quickly fell in behind him. Sir Fafnar spun his horse around and trotted beside them. As they passed under the gate portcullis, he whispered under his breath.
“Don’t think this is over.”
“You can bet it isn’t,” Lloyd replied, glaring hotly at the pompous noble.
When they entered the castle grounds, a Dunwynn soldier came trotting over to Sir Fafnar. Gelpas halted, as did the rest. The soldier beckoned to Fafnar, who in turn bent down toward him. The Dunwynn soldier whispered something into the noble’s ear. Sir Fafnar’s expression became anxious. He sat up and quickly dismounted, handing his reigns over to the soldier. Fafnar spun toward Captain Gelpas.
“If you will excuse me Captain, I must report to the Duke,” he said in a self-important tone.
“By all means,” Gelpas responded.
The noble nodded curtly, then spun around, striding off in a hurry in the direction the soldier had come.
“I thought he would never leave,” Donnie said when he was out of earshot. His observation was met with a round of chuckles. Even Gelpas smiled. The Captain then led them across the courtyard. Preparations for the evening’s events were well underway. Off to their left, a large stage had been set up against the wall of the keep. A tall scaffolding rose above the platform, a dark backdrop currently hanging from it. A few rows of long benches were lined up in front of the stage. On the other side of the courtyard were the gardens. A few well-dressed individuals roamed around there.
Most likely some early guests, Aksel surmised.
A number of long tables stood at the entrance to the keep. They were arranged perpendicular to the castle except for the head table. That one ran parallel to the structure. Aksel addressed the Captain. “It looks like things are proceeding as planned.”
“Yes, we do seem to be on schedule,” Gelpas responded proudly. His voice dropped, and his expression grew serious. “All except for the final security plans.”
“Not to worry,” Elladan assured him. “We mapped out a strategy this morning.”
Gelpas nodded. “Well, the Baron is eager to hear your thoughts.”
“Then let’s not keep him waiting any longer than he already has,” Aksel agreed.
The group hurried up the stairs and filed into the keep proper.
An hour later, the company exited the keep. The meeting with the Baron had gone well. Gryswold approved of their plans and arranged the seating accordingly. With Maltar gone, Glo would sit at the main table with the Baron and Baroness. Lloyd would be seated there as well, next to the Lady Andrella. The young man was extremely honored, thanking the Baron profusely.
Gryswold had grinned at him broadly. “We Penwick men need to stick together.”
Aksel noted that both Sir Fafnir and the Duke of Dunwynn were also seated at the head table. He had drawn both Lloyd and Glo aside, cautioning them to keep conversation with the nobles to a minimum. Glo nodded his understanding. Lloyd’s response had been a bit more disconcerting.
“Don’t worry. As far as Fafnar is concerned, from now on my swords will do all the talking.”
They had also introduced Donatello to the Baron and Baroness.
Gracelynn graciously responded, “Any friend of the Heroes may be considered a friend of ours.”
Donnie briefly derailed things with a side conversation about painting portraits. Luckily, Aksel steered the conversation back on track. They arranged for Donnie to sit
at the table next to the Baron’s, along with Elladan. The bard’s seat was reserved for when the show ended.
Seth, Aksel, and Martan would be stationed on the grounds, watching for signs of the Serpent Cult. Gryswold gave Seth leave to access the upper floors of the keep and roam the rooftops. He also supplied them with the key to Maltar’s old tower. It had been locked up for some time now—ever since he had left the keep in favor of his home across town. Gryswold had held onto that key all this time, although he alluded to the fact that Maltar had a second key, which Aksel found interesting. Once the party was over, he thought they should explore the tower thoroughly. There may be some clue inside as to the whereabouts of the missing mage.
With the security plans finished, they took their leave of Gryswold and Gracelynn. The Baron confided that they needed to meet with some dignitaries from Dunwynn and Penwick. He did not seem thrilled by the prospect of the former. Now the companions stood out in the courtyard once again. They quickly moved off the stairs and out of the way of the servants who were hustling in and out of the keep, still preparing for tonight’s festivities. Aksel addressed the group.
“Well, we all know our assignments. There are still a couple of hours until the party begins...”
“Ves!” a voice interrupted him. It was Martan.
Aksel noted the archer staring across the courtyard. Following his gaze, he saw a young woman over by the gardens. She had long, golden blonde hair and wore a flowing bronze gown. She was holding the arm of a tall, white-haired gentleman garbed in long brown robes. Skipping around them enthusiastically was a little blonde girl in a pale blue gown.
“And Maya,” Glo said with a trace of amusement. “I was beginning to wonder if we were ever going to see them again.”
“Me, too,” Martan said, sounding entranced.
Elladan clasped the archer on the shoulder. “Pull yourself together there, friend. We’ve got work to do.”
Martan responded with a wan smile. “Oh, right. I guess I’ll go set up on the top of the tower.” The archer took one last look over at Ves. She was smiling and laughing with the old gentlemen. Martan bowed his head for a moment, then took off in the direction of Maltar’s tower.
