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Beyond the Wide Wall

Page 10

by Ploof, Michael James


  “They were after you, Your Highness,” McArgh told Caressa. “What do you think we should do with them?”

  Caressa considered the question, trying to look hard, but in truth she didn’t want any more killing. “Can Ravenwing perform a deathly promise binding?”

  McArgh seemed impressed that Caressa knew of such things. “Ravenwing?” she called over her shoulder.

  “Of course I can,” said the dark-haired woman, whose face was always partially hidden by her drooping hood.

  “Good,” said Caressa. “Then I would have you bind the men to me. They are to promise to take King Therod’s Revenge and sail her to Kingstead, where they are to surrender to my father’s navy.”

  “What?” said Captain Kidd incredulously.

  “I can pay you handsomely, my dear,” said Blackstash. “There is no need for—”

  “She’s a princess, idiot,” said Wendel, whose head had been returned to his body.

  “She doesn’t need your stupid gold,” Dingleberry put in as well.

  “Would you rather we feed you to the fishes?” McArgh asked.

  “This is an outrage!” said Captain Daniels. “Giving another pirate to a king? That is low, even among pirates.”

  “You attacked us three against one, and you lost,” said McArgh. “Now shut your mouths and be glad that you aren’t dead.”

  The spell took the better part of an hour, with some of the men being forced to utter the words. If any of them broke the promise and did not sail to Magestra and surrender, then they would drop dead. If they did as they had sworn, the binding would be lifted, and they would be free to act upon their own free will once more—though they would be in Kingstead’s dungeons.

  When it was done, the defeated pirates boarded King Therod’s Revenge, and the ship pulled up anchor and began on its long, sad journey to Magestra.

  “You should have had them all killed,” said McArgh as she and Caressa stood at the rail, watching the ship.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because if there is one thing that pirates enjoy more than plundering booty, it is revenge.”

  Caressa gulped and wondered if she had done the right thing.

  Chapter 13

  What Gets High, Must Come Down

  The road crawled by slowly, and the jerking of the horse made Murland feel sick again. He had been in and out of consciousness for the better part of a day, and now darkness surrounded him. In his addled state, he had often forgotten who he was and where he was going; all that filled his mind were thoughts of fairy dust, sparkling pipe weed, and the delicious treats that seemed to have a magic all their own. He wanted nothing more than to seek these things out, but he was so sick that all he could do was moan and weakly flop his head around.

  When again he awoke, it was daytime, and Willow was walking in front of him, leading the horse. Murland looked around, though his lolling head still had no strength. He saw Brannon, Sir Eldrick, and Gibrig slumped over in their saddles, and in the knight’s case, tied to his horse.

  “Treats,” said Murland, raising a weak hand.

  “Treats,” the others groaned.

  “If I gotta tell you lot of fust heads that there aren’t any more treats one more time, I’ll bop you all on the head,” said Willow.

  Murland passed out again, and this time his fevered sleep was filled with demons and unnamable terrors that chased him through a never-ending darkness.

  Drak’Noir flew overhead, blotting out the blood-red moon and laying waste to the land. Murland watched Magestra burn, and Abra Tower was destroyed with one lash of the dragon’s spiked tail. Caressa ran to Murland through the dust and smoke and rubble. Her arms were spread wide, and her dirty face was streaked with tears.

  “Murland!” she cried as he reached for her, but as he did, Drak’Noir suddenly snatched up Caressa and opened her gaping maw.

  “Caressa!”

  “Murland…Murland!”

  He woke up screaming and grabbed at the person holding him down.

  “Murland, wake up, it was just a dream!” said Willow, big eyes studying him sympathetically.

  “Where am I?” he said as the world slowly came back to him. It was dark, and a small fire burned beside him. Across from it, Gibrig and Brannon were sleeping fitfully.

  “We are two days west of the City of the Dead. You are safe,” said Willow.

  Beside her, Sir Eldrick stared at the fire with faraway eyes and shivered, hugging himself, though it was nearly summer.

  “Where is Kazimir?” Murland asked.

  Willow shrugged. “Don’t know, but he ain’t here.”

  “Did you bring any treats with you?” Murland asked, scratching his chin. His body itched all over, and he wanted so badly for the terrible feelings in his mind and body to go away.

  “No,” said Willow. “I’ve been telling you lot for two days. There ain’t no more treats. That stuff is poison, and nearly got you all killed.”

  Murland tried to think back. His memory was so fuzzy, and it came back to him in bits and pieces. He felt as though they had been in the City of the Dead for years, but he knew that it could not possibly have been that long.

  He felt in his pockets, looking for treats, but he found none. He realized that he didn’t feel his wand either, and that thought made him remember the spell book.

  “My things!” he said. “Where is my spell book!”

  Willow hooked a thumb behind her. His backpack was lying on the ground.

  “Packy!” said Murland with relief. “Oh, thank the gods I didn’t lose him.”

  “How you know it ain’t a girl?” Willow asked.

  Murland shrugged, not having an answer for that one. “Willow, what the hells happened back there? I mean, I remember following the rainbow bears into the city, and meeting the captain, and I remember all the wonderful food and pipe weed, but…was there a fire?”

  “Oh yeah,” said Willow, chuckling. “There was a fire alright. Them dippies went crazy after they realized there was nothing left, and they burned down everything. Those cute and cuddly rainbow bears must have been under some enchantment, or it was an effect of the fust, because they changed into vicious, long-fanged beasts when there was none left. I imagine the captain high-tailed it back to the coast. He was a pirate, you see, and doping you all up to sell you into slavery once he was done using you to catch pixies.”

  “Slavery?” said Murland, hardly able to believe it.

  “Hell of a story, eh lad?” said Sir Eldrick. He sounded and looked ten years older than he was. Dark rings lined his sunken eyes, and his skin was scratched and scabbing. His gums even looked dark and receding. “We owe Willow our lives.”

  “Wow, thanks Willow. I had no idea.”

  “None of you did. But luckily, for some reason the fust and other stuff had no effect on me. I was trying to get you guys out of there for more than a week.”

  “What happened to your finger?” he asked, noticing the bandage on her right ring finger.

  “That bastard Captain Ripps had it chopped off when he found me out. Tried to send me right to the coast to be sold to the slavers or worse. But I got out of there. I gave them guards a right what-for. I set the pixies free as well. They were being lured there by the sugar, but now all that is ashes.”

  “Not only that,” said Sir Eldrick, “but she also managed to destroy all the goods and get us out of there. She’s a hero.”

  Willow smiled proudly.

  “I’ll say,” said Murland. He lay back on the ground, hand on forehead and mind racing. “If it wasn’t for you, we’d be doomed. We would have never returned. Thanks, Willow.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Thousands of soldiers and adventurers have gone missing in those woods in recent decades,” Sir Eldrick told them. “And all this time it was not because of monsters and undead swallowing them up, but people like Captain Ripps, getting them addicted to fairy dust and selling them into slavery.”

  “But sold
to who?” Murland asked. “Slavery is illegal in the five kingdoms.”

  Sir Eldrick shrugged. “Who’s to say? There are many other lands across the great seas of the world. Some people say that the waters never end, and there are as many continents as there are stars in the sky.”

  “I don’t know,” said Murland. “The flat world theory has been under scrutiny lately. The wizards think that the earth is round, and when I am flying really high, I can almost see a curve to the—”

  “Round?” Sir Eldrick laughed, which led to violent coughing. Willow offered him a water skin, and he drank greedily, letting it pour over his beard.

  “Water,” said Brannon groggily, and Gibrig began to stir as well.

  They both asked similar questions about what had happened in the City of the Dead, and Willow was more than happy to explain how she heroically saved them all.

  Murland dragged himself over to his backpack and opened it up, delighted to find his spell book and a half-finished wand. However, he was dismayed to not find his wizard leaf.

  “Willow, what happened to my leaf?”

  “You traded it all for fust by day three. And the dippies ate all our food. I have no idea where your other supplies are. I couldn’t find anyone’s weapons or armor.”

  “The fae blade!” said Sir Eldrick, slamming the ground with a fist. “I’m such an idiot.”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourselves,” said Willow. “That fust does a number on folks.”

  Murland rummaged around his pack, seeing what else was missing. He found a number of items that he didn’t at first recognize: there was a small wooden flute, a multi-colored feather with beads on it, and a seashell that was painted with a starry scene on the back. He remembered all the sculpting and glass blowing and painting that they had done, and laughed to himself when he realized that Captain Ripps had probably been selling that stuff as well. He vaguely remembered helping to make jewelry for hours upon hours in a steady haze of fairy dust.

  “What are we going to do without our things?” Brannon asked miserably. “I don’t have my armor, my weapons, or my seeds. My toiletries are all gone, as well as my makeup and brushes…”

  He began to sob, and Gibrig tried to console him with a hand on his shoulder, but Brannon shrugged it off and curled up in his hemp dress.

  “It was hard enough getting you all out of there,” said Willow. “Sorry I couldn’t get your things. There just wasn’t any time.”

  “I bet you’re sorry,” Brannon snapped. “You’ve got all your stuff.”

  “Hey, have a little respect,” said Sir Eldrick. “Willow saved all of our lives.”

  “I wish that she would have left me there. I was happy. Do you understand? For the first time in my life, I was happy. Why did you have to go and ruin it?”

  “I…” Willow began.

  “What happened, did you get hungry? You said you ate all the treats. ALL THE TREATS! You couldn’t save any?”

  “That’s enough,” said Sir Eldrick tiredly.

  “You fat beast!” said Brannon. He was shaking now and getting to his feet weakly. “I can’t wait until we—”

  “Brannon!” Sir Eldrick bellowed, and Brannon suddenly sobered, looking as though he had been slapped in the face.

  “I…I…” Brannon stammered.

  “Come on, let’s make ourselves useful. We need wood for the fire,” said Sir Eldrick, grabbing Brannon by the shoulder and leading him into the dark woods.

  ***

  “You need to get your shit together,” Sir Eldrick told Brannon.

  They stood beside a babbling brook, the sound of which was enough to mask their voices.

  “What I need,” said Brannon through clenched teeth, “is fust.”

  “No. Forget about that. You heard Willow. It almost got us sold into slavery. Besides, we have a quest to finish.”

  “I’m leaving. This is over,” said Brannon, throwing his arms up and turning from Sir Eldrick.

  Sir Eldrick grabbed him by the back of the neck, tripped him with a quick leg sweep, and shoved his head into the brook.

  Brannon fought to be free, but Sir Eldrick held him firm, pressing his face deeper into the water. The elf thrashed about as air bubbles broke the surface. It wasn’t until they stopped that Sir Eldrick finally pulled Brannon’s head out of the water and pushed the elf back on the mossy bank.

  “Next time you slip up like that and nearly tell them about our plan, I’ll kill you,” said Sir Eldrick, panting. “Do you understand me?”

  Brannon fought back tears of anger and frustration. “I’m sorry…it’s just…I feel so terrible. I can’t go on anymore, Eldrick. Maybe you should just drown me and do us all a favor.”

  Sir Eldrick’s hard face softened, and he let out a long sigh. “You went on a fust bender; you’re going to feel like shit for a long time. Just watch that big mouth of yours.”

  Brannon nodded, sniffling, and Sir Eldrick found himself feeling sorry for the elf.

  “Come on, let’s get back to the group and see if there isn’t something to eat.” He held out his hand, and after a moment of consideration, Brannon took it.

  Chapter 14

  Lost and Found

  Murland didn’t get any sleep all night, and he spent his time going over his spell book, looking for a way to conjure fairy dust. When he had no success with that endeavor, he went to working on his newest wand.

  Willow took to the woods just before dawn to do some hunting, and when she returned a few hours later, she came back empty-handed. Murland wondered if perhaps she had caught something and already eaten it. He didn’t care much either way. He had no appetite for food, and in truth, the thought of it made him a little sick.

  “Ain’t like hunting in the swamp, I tell you,” said Willow as she plopped down beside the fire.

  “No luck?” asked Sir Eldrick, who had just begun to stir.

  Willow shook her head.

  “I’ll give it a shot in a bit,” said Sir Eldrick. “We need something in our bellies or we won’t make it too far. I feel like I haven’t eaten real food in a month.”

  “I can’t even think of food,” said Brannon.

  “I dreamed of it all night long,” Gibrig said dreamily. He rolled over on his leafy bed and propped his chin on his hands. “Remember the little cakes with the strawberry frosting? And the sugar sticks with the sparkles? And the—”

  “Stop,” said Brannon, holding his stomach. He got up and stumbled to the woods to throw up.

  Murland felt his own gorge coming up, but fought it down, refusing to get sick.

  “How far you reckon we’ve traveled these last few days?” Sir Eldrick asked, getting up and brushing off his colorful tunic. To Murland, he looked like a beggar with his hemp sandals and shaggy, unkempt hair.

  “I didn’t rest the first day,” said Willow. “I’d say we covered at least thirty miles.”

  Sir Eldrick looked west beyond the tree line. They were in a small clearing, and there was no clear road or path nearby. Murland figured that their days of traveling by road were over. But the trees were impossibly tall here, some of them so wide that it would take three ogres to wrap arms around them. The ground was littered with last fall’s dead leaves, which had lost their color to the soggy cold of winter. The way between trees was clear, however, for the thick canopy above gave no light for shrubbery to thrive on.

  “The forest is a few hundred miles wide,” said Sir Eldrick. “I’d say that we have a ways to go yet. Everyone get ready to go. We need to put some miles behind us.”

  “I’d say,” came a voice that caused them all to jerk their heads, startled.

  “Kazimir?” Sir Eldrick asked, glancing around at the forest. The voice seemed to have come from nowhere in particular.

  “Where, might I ask, have you fools been?” said Kazimir, suddenly appearing beside the fire.

  “Boy, have we missed you!” Gibrig squealed and leapt up, wrapping his arms around the wizard.

  Kazimir
scowled down at him and grabbed him by the face, turning it this way and that as he studied Gibrig’s eyes. “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”

  Gibrig did so, and even Murland, who was the farthest away, could see the rainbow colors lining the dwarf’s tongue.

  “Fairy dust, eh?” said Kazimir, pushing Gibrig away and turning on Sir Eldrick. “What, by the gods, happened to you all?”

  “What happened to us?” said Brannon with a mirthless laugh. “What happened to us? What in the hells happened to you?”

  “I answer to no one!” said Kazimir, raising his arms as he did and darkening the glade.

  Brannon’s face went white.

  “We were lured into the City of the Dead by little colorful bears,” said Sir Eldrick. “We found one Captain B. Ripps and a village of…dippies. They got us hooked on fust. We would have been sold into slavery had it not been for Willow. She saved us.”

  “Did she now?” said Kazimir, stroking his beard and taking a measure of the blushing ogre.

  “Kazimir, I can do magic now,” said Murland. “Brannon helped me grow wizard leaf…well, I traded it all I guess, but it worked. I made my own wand too.”

  “That’s great, kid,” said Kazimir lazily. “Where is your armor?” he asked Sir Eldrick.

  “We, uh, we lost it,” said the knight.

  “I didn’t have time to get their stuff,” said Willow. “You think you could, you know, maybe whoosh it here?”

  “Do I have to do everything for you people? I swear, good help is hard to find these days.”

  They all looked at him expectantly.

  He gave a sigh and pulled out his pipe, taking a seat on a log by the fire. “I’ll need a hair from each of you, and a list of the things that you left behind. Here.” He reached in his robe and took out some paper and four small quills. “I expect that you didn’t lose anything,” he said to Willow.

  “Nope,” she said, beaming. “That fust got nothing on me.”

  Murland sniffed at the sweet smell of wizard leaf coming from Kazimir’s pipe.

 

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