Plain of the Fourteen Pillars - Book 1

by T K Foster

There was a whirlwind of smoke and a fire ablaze, a cracking laughter which haunted the haze, three dark figures shadowed in cloaks with whips slithering through the air above and piercing eyes ready to smite. Terror enveloped the atmosphere, ready to deliver pain and wailing, ready to draw blood and to drive those who would be insane even further over the edge....

  “Oh get over yourself pig-boy,” came the voice, “Who do you think you are, the Ninja King?”

  Well, at least that’s how the view from his imagination looked. In fact, the three figures that stood before him were no more menacing than a crushed topey....

  A crushed topey is a three and a half legged insect with its innards protruding from cracks in its segmented body. Normally it would have five segments, which with only three and a half legs to lug itself around on made it a curious little critter to come upon in ones travels. In fact, the first ever specimen of this insect was discovered stumbling around the top of a beetroot cider barrel. Assuming it had got to the cider and inadvertently become intoxicated, it was aptly registered on file as a Topey. It was only later discovered that its three and a half legs were so badly evolved that they were incapable of holding the five segmented body parts aloft. Hence the inaccurately named Topey has since become a bit of a joke. Like, someone could be said to eat like a topey, or even drink like a topey; to be as dead as a topey, or else be as healthy as a topey. Certainly the joke wasn’t perfect, in fact it made little sense at all, but it was theirs.... and it was a part of Bradley.

  “Will you stop thrashing,” came the voice again.

  Barret held Briar tightly by the collar. Briar being a fat little thing with plenty of strength still found it quite impossible to fight against being lifted and held off the ground.

  Cetra couldn’t help but laugh at the flailing creature. Though, in the ensuing moments thereafter, Briar did stop beating around. Barret dropped him to the ground yet still held his collar firmly, and Cetra did stop laughing, but continued to smile. In that time Billy, who knew Barret had everything under control, still grabbed for the broom in his defence.

  “What do you think you’re doing pig-face?” Barret spoke harshly, a fleering look on his face.

  “I’m not doing nothing,” Briar snapped in that gruff, childlike voice. He shrugged his shoulders in an attempt to break loose from Barret’s grip, but failed.

  “What’s he going to do?” Briar said eyeballing Billy, “Sweep me to death?”

  Billy figured his actions were warranted and made to challenge the remark, but when his mouth opened he hadn’t a clue what to say; so Billy stood there gaping instead. To compose himself quickly and relieve any onset of embarrassment, he turned the broom in his hands like a giant baton, caught the bristle end on the ground with his foot and stiffly leant upon the handle. “Hey Briar,” he said casually, “What’s up?”

  “So, pig-face’s name is Briar,” Barret said scornfully.

  “You should know who I am, stupid. You see me every time you’re in town.”

  “Call me stupid again....”

  “Stupid!”

  “..... and I’ll rip your snout off!”

  “Stupid!”

  Barret grabbed Briar’s nose in a hostile attempt to make good the threat. During the effort his finger managed to become inserted into one of the big, soggy nostrils; it was indeed an unsavoury gesture to say the least. Briar snorted at the intrusion and sent a spray of snot over his offender.

  “That’s gross!” Barret shrieked, reeling backwards after releasing his grip on both the collar and the nose. “You’re disgusting.”

  “You’re disgusting,” Briar yelled back and stood his ground, “Who sticks their finger up someone else’s nose? You’re as stupid as a topey, stupid.”

  During this quick succession of events taking place before them both, Cetra and Billy watched for a moment, then looked to each other, glanced back, and again looked at each other. When the last barrage of stupids had fired from Briar’s mouth they finally gestured to one another that it would be a good idea to intervene at some point.

  “I’m gonna kill you,” Barret snarled and readied himself to pounce.

  This, they decided, was that point.

  They moved themselves invasively between the two, hoping to deter their attack upon one another with the gesture. Yelling at them may have also been a defining factor in their separation.

  While the two were now apart Cetra introduced herself, “Hello Briar, my name is Cetra.”

  The pig-faced boy looked into Cetra’s big eyes and instantly turned to mush. Not literally, but as it were, like when a boy meets a girl and his brain turns to goo and for what comes out of his mouth he may as well be blabbing blah blah blah.

  “That’s a nice name,” he managed as he sat down on a wooden crate next to her.

  “Thank you Briar, but how are you? How is your nose?”

  “Sore,” he said solemnly, “I feel violated.”

  From the other side of the room Barret listened with pricked ears and gritted teeth. “You’ll feel more than violated when I get my hands on you again pig-boy,” he grated, his view of Briar blocked by Billy’s big head.

  “Barret, come on,” Billy pleaded, “Stop this. Let’s just find out how much he heard.”

  There was a cloth nearby which Barret grabbed to wipe the snot off his arm. “Gross little snoop,” he muttered, and then to Billy, “Ok, you’re right.”

  Billy felt the victory and smiled. He then made the short trip across the room and spoke bluntly at Briar.

  “Why were you eaves-dropping?” Billy asked him

  Briar looked confused. His eyes darted around the room, from Cetra to Barret, to Cetra again and then back to Billy. He said nothing.

  Billy felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to Barret who leant into him and whispered in his ear, “He doesn’t know what eaves-dropping is.”

  “Oh,” Billy whispered back.

  Barret jumped in, easy going, calm and collected.

  “What did you hear us talking about?”

  “Something about wanting answers,” came the quick reply, “Something about wanting to get home.”

  “What else?”

  “That’s it, Honest.”

  There was a short silence.

  “Why were you listening?” Billy finally asked.

  Briar was suddenly nervous.

  “I just was. I heard talking and I came over to listen. I’m a kid, what do you expect from me?” He waved his arms at them. “But,” he said, now shifting a little further forward on the crate, “maybe I can help you.”

  “How can you help us?” Barret scoffed.

  “How? Yes,” he said, glancing from side to side. He leant even further forward again and beckoned for them to come within a whisper. “I can take you to an old sage.”

  CHAPTER NINE