Once Around the Realms (single books)

by Brian Thomsen

  "Would you mind holding the child while we discuss this?" Volo asked, indicating to Shurleen to hand the babe to the old man.

  "No," he replied. "No can do. My arms are old and frail, and my skin ravaged by the diseases of age. A child as pure as this must not be placed in the arms of the incompetent. Mad Monkey say…"

  "No," interrupted Volo, holding his hand in a symbolic gesture to halt the onrush of epithets, "that will be fine."

  "Chiun will fetch his staff from the caravan while you talk among yourselves," replied the old coot, who proceeded to scramble around the ridge with greater ease than either Passepout or even Volo had been able to manage.

  Volo motioned for the rest of the party to draw close together to discuss the matter at hand while they were alone save for the child.

  "Well, what should we do?" Volo asked to no one in particular. "We can't abandon either the child or Chiun. There are bandits and other dangers around, and if there are assassins lying in wait for this child, all the more reason to get it to a safe haven like that school on the Islands of Wa."

  "It's not like we had another destination in mind," Passepout offered, "but who will take care of the child?"

  "Why, Shurleen, of course," Curtis proclaimed. "Child care is women's work."

  "How dare you talk to me like that?" Shurleen protested, coincidentally without giving up the child, who had fallen asleep in her arms. "Woman's work, indeed."

  "It's not like you've ever done any work or anything," Curtis sniped, throwing fuel on the fiery rage of their female companion.

  "Why, you…" she sputtered.

  "I think you'd make a wonderful mother," Passepout offered, trying to calm her down, though his comment fell on deaf ears.

  "That's enough from all of you," Volo commanded, taking control of the situation. "Since no one seems to have another plan in mind, it's now settled. We will escort the child and Chiun to the Isles of Wa, and we will all take turns tending to the child."

  "Thank you," replied Chiun, who appeared behind them, having fetched his staff from the caravan, and rejoined the group at just the right moment. "Mad Monkey will bless you all."

  "By the way," Passepout inquired, "who is this Mad Monkey that you always quote?"

  "Oh," explained Chiun, "Mad Monkey is a powerful demigod and free spirit who protects those who follow his school of martial arts, such as the one located on the Isles of Wa which will be our destination. He is also the author of many pithy epigraphs."

  "Like what?" the chubby thespian inquired.

  "Man who have yen for success in baking business may have to amass a fortune in cookies. Too tight a top knot tangles many a comb. Man who forsake the fire of cookery to eat raw fish may find himself with flames in his bowels and belly. Dwarf who enlists in the army of titans often comes up short. Dragon who…"

  "Enough," the thespian interrupted. "I get the idea."

  "Some are quite funny," Chiun concluded, "but all are insightful."

  "Uh, right," Volo replied, trying to get the show back on the road. "Chiun, why don't you ride with Curtis?"

  "You are most kind," the old man replied.

  "Uh, yes," Volo continued, "and Shurleen, would you mind taking the first shift in child care?"

  "No problem," she replied agreeably, the addition of the child having a wonderful effect on her disposition. "I can feed him as we ride."

  "We can do it together," Passepout offered.

  "I pity the poor horse if you do," Curtis sniped.

  Passepout was about" to retort with a full measure of vitriol, when Shurleen intervened.

  "No, that's all right," she offered. "I'm sure I can manage on my own… but thank you for offering," and with another bat of her long lashes, she returned her attention from the chubby thespian to the child.

  Passepout helped her mount her horse with the child in her arms and rejoined Volo, who was holding the reins of his steed for him.

  "You see," the chubby thespian insisted, "I told you she likes me."

  Volo turned away so that no one could see him rolling his eyes, and turned his steed toward the one bearing Curtis and Chiun.

  "Well, Chiun," he inquired, "where do we go from here?"

  "To the sea," he replied, then adding, "that away."

  They journeyed at a varied pace to accommodate the needs of the child and the bowels of the old man, whose age and diet had left him with little self-control, particularly after a long day of horseback riding.

  If one was to believe Chiun, Mad Monkey was indeed smiling on them, as it never rained when they couldn't find shelter, nor did they ever run out of food when generous farmers weren't around to restock their supplies.

  Their paths did not cross with bandits, or other disagreeable sorts, and in relatively no time they arrived at the shore.

  From there they traveled south to the first available harbor where they could trade their horses for a boat to take them to the Isles of Wa.

  They finally came to rest at a harbor inn called the No Bull House. It was run by an old sailor from the Moonshaes by the name of Blackthumb, who agreed to put them up for the night and introduce them to a dealer with whom they could trade their horses for a boat on the following day.

  After an unusual but tasty meal of seaweed salad and Moonshae stew a la Shou Lung, prepared by the innkeeper's wife from her own recipe, and all washed down by several flagons of imported Moonshae ale, the inn was closed for the night. The travelers were escorted to a common room equipped with enough beds for the entire party, where they settled in for the night.

  All had grown quiet, and the travelers were on the verge of a peaceful night's rest when the silence was shattered by an ear-splitting cry.

  "Waaaaaaaaaaa!"

  The child, who had fallen asleep while the rest of the group was still finishing dinner, had awakened and was making its presence known.

  "This is just great," Passepout grumbled. "My first night in an inn in I don't know how long, and I have to be on baby duty."

  Passepout swung his legs over the side of the bed, wiped the sleep from his eyes, and was about to go to the makeshift crib that housed the crying infant when he noticed four shadowy figures in the room with them.

  "Hey, who are you?" he shouted loud enough to wake the whole inn.

  A flash of steel was barely glimpsed in the candlelit room. A katana was removed from its scabbard and brought in a sweeping arc toward the unprotected neck of the chubby thespian.

  Craaaaaak!

  The chubby thespian fell to the floor as the side of the bed upon which he had been lying caved in from the unbalanced strain of his tarrying too long while sitting on its edge.

  The katana's blade embedded itself in the now off-kilter bedpost that came crashing to hit the foundering thespian on the bed, barely deflecting the blade from its lethal course.

  Blackthumb appeared at the door, torch hi hand, illuminating the intruders. They were dressed in black from head to toe, with only a slit in their masks to reveal eyes of elven gray. By this time, all had drawn their swords and were choosing their targets.

  "Assassins!" Blackthumb yelled, cudgeling the closest one with his shillelagh of Moonshae briar.

  Silent except for the whistling and whooshing of displaced air, the masked intruders sprang into action.

  Shurleen screamed and threw herself on top of the makeshift crib, intending to protect the child, only to find that it was no longer there.

  The baby!" she cried. "He's gone!"

  "No, he isn't," Curtis called, having thrown himself on the child, who had managed to climb out of the crib and crawl toward the beachcomber's bed.

  Volo threw his trusty dagger, catching one of the approaching assassins squarely between the eyes.

  Curtis dispatched another with remarkable accuracy, using the throwing stars that the child still carried.

  The fourth assassin, who also had set his sights on the crib, was about to skewer the shaken Shurleen, when Passepout, having only partially rec
overed his equilibrium from the fall, came lumbering into him, throwing him off-balance and succeeding in delaying his recovery long enough for Shurleen to stab him with his own sword. She and the thespian were doused with a spray of bloody gore from the newly opened hole in the assassin's chest.

  The entire battle had lasted less than a minute.

  Volo undid the black hood from the assassin nearest him, the one who had been cudgeled by Blackthumb, to reveal its oriental elven facial features.

  "Well," said Passepout, regaining his balance, "that was easy enough!"

  As if on cue, the assassins began to stand up, ready to resume their attack.

  "It can't be!" Shurleen screamed.

  "Undead elven ninja assassins," Blackthumb exclaimed. "Recently raised from the dead, I might add."

  Slower this time, as the element of surprise was gone and counterattacks realized to be ultimately futile, the assassins regrouped, and prepared to resume their business, quickly and efficiently.

  The smell of corruption, decay, and death pervaded the room, and the way to the door was clearly blocked by the assassins.

  There was no escape, and everyone knew it.

  "Rots ah Ruck!"

  Chiun had appeared at the doorway, once again having evidently left the room prior to the attack in order to relieve himself, and, with trusty staff raised, was now invoking some ancient incantation.

  "Nough tee que knoe shur tay!"

  The ninjas immediately burst into flame, incinerating to dust in seconds without harming anyone in the room or even singeing the floor upon which they were standing.

  "Nice work, Chiun," Curtis complimented.

  The old coot bowed. "Mad Monkey say, 'Sending undead assassins to do a man's work is cheating.' " Chiun replied.

  "I take it you are a priest of this Mad Monkey," Volo responded, taking a moment to give the frail old man a gentle pat on the back.

  "You might say that," Chiun replied, "but now I must sleep if you will be so kind.*Mad Monkey say, 'Early to bed, early to rise…"

  " '… makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise,' " Blackthumb completed.

  Chiun was taken aback for a moment.

  "Are you a disciple of Mad Monkey?" he queried.

  "No," the innkeeper replied, "just here to defend my guests, and clean up after messy attacks."

  "Mad Monkey say, 'Good innkeepers are hard to find.'"

  With bare minimal rearranging, the room was restored, and the innkeeper and the travelers once again prepared themselves for bed.

  Volo, Chiun, Blackthumb, and Curtis had once again turned in for the night, and the child was soundly sleeping back in his makeshift crib.

  Shurleen had decided to clean herself up after the bloody attack, while Passepout had decided that a few more flagons of Moonshae ale was in order to steady his nerves after the evening's excitement. After a while, Shurleen returned to the room.

  "Hi," she greeted, sitting next to the portly thespian. "Mind if I sit here?"

  "Not at all," he sputtered, his eyes consumed by the wonderments that lay beneath the new silken kimono that Blackthumb's wife had lent her.

  "My hero," she purred. "You saved me from that horrible assassin."

  "Nothing to it," the proud Passepout replied, trying to regain his self-control by taking another drink. "Nothing any other full-fledged hero wouldn't do."

  The tavern room in which they were sitting was almost silent. Only the sounds of Volo's snoring from the adjoining common room disturbed the peace.

  "I'm glad we have this chance to be alone," she pressed.

  "So am I," he replied, trying to tear his eyes away from her physical charms.

  "You're not really an actor, are you?" she queried.

  Passepout was dumbstruck. "What do you mean?" he replied, regaining control of his words and his eyes.

  "Well, I've never known a rich actor," she replied, "and you are obviously rich. Not that I mind, of course."

  She pressed herself closer to him, and the chubby thespian felt peculiarly uncomfortable.

  "Why do you think I'm rich?" he inquired, surprised to find himself drawing back from her overt advances.

  "Well, you're also rather careless," she replied. "You seem to have been dropping these rubies all along the way since you rescued me. I only really noticed since the site of the caravan attack. Here."

  In her hand were clearly a half-dozen of the necromancer's gems.

  Chapter 16

  The Way to Wa And Beyond or Mad Monkey's School for Boys

  Passepout was shocked, scared, and panicked all at once, and at any moment expected something horrible to happen. He put his hands up to cover his face and cried, "No!"

  "Now, don't be silly," Shurleen cooed. "You see that I'm giving them back to you. After all, no matter how rich you are, rubies aren't just something that you want to throw away. Right?"

  "No!" Passepout cried, now shaking his head from side to side, his hands still covering his face.

  "That's what I thought," replied Shurleen, oblivious to the rotund thespian's panic. "So why don't you put these gems back in your pretty little pouch, and then you and I can get to know each other a little better."

  "No!" he repeated, once again, his eyes now darting to the inn's door, expecting at any moment for some purveyor of doom to make his entrance.

  "Don't be shy," she purred. "I really like actors, especially rich ones. So just give me your hand, and leave the riding to Shurleen."

  Passepout's sputtering and Shurleen's purring were just then interrupted by a voice emanating from the previously silent darkness.

  "Excuse, please," Chiun announced, now illuminated by the tavern table's candlelight. "Did not mean to interrupt. I am only on my way to the outhouse."

  Chiun stopped by the table, where Shurleen was almost on Passepout's lap, the gems that had previously been in her hand now spread on the table to allow her fingers to attend to other matters. He looked down at the red gems that were causing Passepout his grief, and passed his hand over them, saying, "Oh, necromancer's gem. All go away."

  The gems disappeared from the table as if they had just faded into thin air.

  Chiun then continued on to his elected duty.

  "Stop him!" Shurleen replied. "He's taken the gems."

  Chiun popped his head back in for a moment, replying, "Gems now back where they belong," and ducked back out again.

  "It's for the best," Passepout replied, still uneasy about the whole thing but relieved to be rid of them once again.

  "But what about the gems?" she insisted, growing agitated at the thespian's immediate acceptance of the old man's actions.

  "They're not important," Passepout replied, trying to steer the conversation back in the direction he thought she had been going. "You were saying something about us getting to know each other."

  "You're crazy," she said, pushing him away. "That was probably a fortune in rubies."

  "But they're not important," he persisted. "We…"

  "Get this straight, mister," Shurleen corrected. "Now, there is no 'we.' An actor, okay, I can accept that. Fat, you can lose weight, I accept that. But someone who is crazy and throws away a fortune in gems, that I cannot accept. I am going back to bed. Alone!"

  "Shurleen," Passepout begged, as she left the tavern room for a room next door.

  "Let her go." Chiun, who had miraculously just materialized, stood at the thespian's side. "She is more interested in the gems than in your happiness."

  "I guess you're right," Passepout answered dolefully. "I guess heiresses are like all other women."

  "You speak the truth," Chiun replied, patting the thespian on the back, as Volo had done to him earlier in the evening, "but maybe not as you see it now."

  "Wait a minute," Passepout replied. "How did you know that they were necromancer gems?"

  "Chiun knows many things," Chiun explained, "and since you didn't touch them after you discarded them you have nothing to worry about. It is as you left them. Th
ey are back along the path upon which you dropped them."

  "How did you do it?"

  "Priest of Mad Monkey know many things, especially how to undo that which someone else has done," he replied.

  "Can you remove the spell that has bonded Volo and myself together, or at least remove the bond that exists between us and the gems?"

  "No can do," Chiun replied. "Spells are tricky as are magical gems. It is much easier to just put things back in their proper place. Nothing is changed except for the location."

  Passepout just shook his head, not really comprehending what he had just heard.

  "Now back to bed," Chiun instructed.

  The frail old priest helped the slightly inebriated and more than slightly depressed thespian next door, and back to his mattress on the floor, the repairs on the damaged bed having to wait for morning.

  The events of the previous evening and the resultant surprises created an invisible bond between the travelers, with the sole exception of an apparent glacial rift between Shurleen and Passepout.

  Blackthumb reminisced over breakfast with tales of his mercenary adventures in the marine trade. There was much mutual patting on the back, and a newfound respect for the ancient priest of Mad Monkey who suffered from irregular bowels.

  Volo took Passepout aside and inquired after the cause of his depression.

  The thespian was torn. He didn't want the group to know of the ineptitude with which he handled Shurleen, for that would surely ruin his all-important reputation as a lady's man, while at the same time he felt a certain obligation to tell Volo of the incident involving the gems, and Chiun's remedy for the problem.

  In the end, Passepout only confessed to a Moonshae ale hangover, and Volo accepted it at face value.

  After breakfast was over, Blackthumb led the group to a harborside establishment where they could trade their horses for a boat that would take them to the Isles of Wa. According to the innkeeper, Pan's Sampans was the most honest establishment in the area, and the owner was a good friend of his.

  "Fellow travelers of Faerun," Blackthumb introduced, "I'd like you to meet my good friend Tai, the most honest shipbuilder on the Celestial Sea."