“Dragon manure adds a distinctive twang to the mushrooms you just can’t get from horse manure,” Earwig said to her new pet badger.
The creature had fallen into the cellar digging out a rat. Earwig had come to collect mushrooms and found the feisty creature backed into a moldy corner. It confronted her, and she beat it into unconsciousness. After starving it for a week, the badger submitted, and she dragged it around on a harness thereafter.
“I’m quite a discerning mushroom tea taster,” Earwig continued. “In fact, I’m the only living one.” She chuckled. The chuckle rippled out through her now bloated body, creating a tsunami in her tea mug that sent a splash over the edge onto her clothing.
“Oops!” she said. She jumped up and ripped off the rapidly dissolving fabric as chemical smoke rose from the spot. The badger struggled backward, straining the leash.
“I must save some of this batch for the thing in the cellar cauldron. It wiggles around day and night in the sludge of boiled mushrooms, hooves, and bile.”
Earwig waddled over to the fireplace and pulled back the black kettle. She poured steaming water into a broken pot, splashing a nasty film off the surface. The rancid water from a moldy bucket went in, as did a mushroom with manure still clinging to the stem. She pushed the pot back near the fire to steep.
“Now, with my vigor renewed, thanks to the monster maggot’s broth, I’ll resume my quest to destroy the house of Calimon by whatever means possible. Rabid bats, caustic mushrooms, stupid trolls, wasting potions, toxic rose thorns, and the like are simply not working as expected. That much I’ve figured out. There just has to be something I haven’t thought of to destroy those in-laws.”
Earwig turned and waddled back to her chair, dragging the badger. The sound of the creature’s claws scraping on the floor in useless resistance let her know it was still with her. She jerked the cord.
“Magnosious could reduce the royal couple to ash in a flash if I could get him close enough, but Memlatec protects the queen. The Dark Lord no longer sends me gifts to encourage my undermining the royal family. It seems he’s given up thinking me capable of causing any real damage to anyone other than myself.”
She looked down and kicked the last dissolving, smoking threads of fabric out the window, where it shriveled its path down the autumn-red poison ivy clinging to the wall.
“It just grates on my nerves to think that I’m a bumbling incompetent at the very evil I know is my real talent. The more I fail, the more I’m sure I can get it right the next time. After all, aren’t I learning what doesn’t work and learning from my mistakes? Surely, I’ve eliminated the flawed options. I’ll try again, and this time, I’ll show Dreaddrac’s lord how clever I am.”
The badger looked up at the witch, and she saw fear in its face. She smirked. “What a good little boy you are now that I neutered you.”
Earwig was riding her little cart down the lawn beside the walk most people took through Konnotan later that afternoon. She had a special privilege to ride her cart, where all others had to walk.
“They all envy me,” she said, flashing her conceited smile. “They’re so impressed.”
She refused to consider their contempt. The witch was passing her afternoon along the course to the palace, frightening people out of her way, when an idea hatched in her insidious little mind.
“I must come to town tomorrow in my coach,” Earwig said, forcing a lady into a roadside drain.
The next day, Earwig rode in the former state carriage. “I just love traveling in grand style, though the coach can barely turn corners in the streets of Konnotan.” She looked out the window at the people gawking at it. “They’re so impressed; my coach proclaims my importance.”
“Her gross pretentiousness and arrogance are too much, a point obvious to everyone but her,” a man said. He was pinned against a wall by the coach, turning a corner.
Earwig gave the man a sour look with her head down-turned and eyes blazing.
“He’ll disappear as soon as I discover his whereabouts and send Magnosious to visit.” She sat back in the jostling coach. “My carriage will make the perfect means to get the queen away from Memlatec and Augusteros.”
Earwig patted the badger beside her. She scratched the struggling creature’s stomach ignoring its constant growls. She’d tied its feet, front and back, and muzzled it so it couldn’t scratch the leather upholstery, then tossed it on its back on the coach floor.
“I’ll drive to the palace to talk with the queen and get her to take a drive with me to Memlatec’s tower. On the way back, I’ll find an excuse to get out of the coach, then cut the brakes. Queen and coach will careen down the mountainside on the return drive. I can even bill the crown for a new coach and blame the wreck on Memlatec, disposing of him, too. It’s a brilliant plan. What could go wrong?”
The badger struggled.
“Bad boy,” Earwig said, she cracked it on the skull, rendering it unconscious for the duration of the ride back to the Earwighof.
*
Queen Eleatsubetsvyertsin was very busy with affairs of state, but she had agreed to see the widowed Earwig so that no rift would weaken the public’s perception of the royal family. At the Earwighof, the witch instructed the coachman she’d found in a jail and kept from Magnosious.
“Have the carriage cleaned and polished. I must be seen in good standing with the queen to enhance my position among the people we’ll pass. And I intend to arrive in the afternoon when most people will be out and about to impress and stir envy.” She cast a sinister look back to the coachman, “I’m quite sure you won’t overlook the interior as my late former coachman did.”
She arrived at the palace on time, stepping from the coach somewhat wobbly in her unfamiliar shoes, several sizes too small.
“They’re awestruck,” she said to the palace servant leading Earwig to the royal presence. Most people she encountered disappeared down the nearest corridor on seeing her.
“My, I don’t think I’ve ever seen hair dressed simply with that little upturn at the bottom that looks so much like wax,” an unfortunate palace visitor said… and was heard.
“That was a price tag. Did you see that dress?” another visitor asked.
As Earwig passed, a courtier pointed at the spectacle. “I think it’s supposed to show off her figure, but there isn’t enough fabric to cover or restrain the contents.”
“It’s an original,” Earwig fired back.
The courtier winced, realizing Earwig had heard the comment.
“Oh, yes, I can see it’s an original.” The man said. Bowing and backing away did nothing to sooth Earwig’s rage.
She climbed the stairs with her best smile for anyone that couldn’t find a nearby open door or corridor.
“The queen will see you now,” the chamberlain said. He failed to bow, a point logged in her vengeful memory.
*
In the throne room, Queen Eleatsubetsvyertsin received petitioners. It was a long formal hall filled with courtiers and petitioners until Earwig appeared at the door. The witch marched into the throne room with her overstuffed shoes banging on the marble floor so everyone would notice her. She flashed the same insincere smile. The crowd surged to the outer walls and back toward the exit.
“What is it you wished to see us about?” Eleatsubetsvyertsin asked.
That woman is so distasteful, the queen thought.
“Would you ride with me to Memlatec’s tower?” Earwig asked. “I truly need to ask a point of advice from both of you.” The black cavity in her face, presented as a smile, failed to impress the queen or court.
“We’re very busy just now, Duchess Irkin. Perhaps you could ask us what you wish to know, then ride to Memlatec’s after and get his opinion.”
Being in the company of that pompous woman nauseates me, but I must keep my tone pleasant, the queen thought.
“It’s most important, please do indulge me just this once,” the witch begged, looking wretched.
Perhap
s that stressed look is actual concern for something, the queen thought. I might as well get the unpleasant association over with so the woman will return to her filthy, sinister, Earwighof.
“We will ride with you to Memlatec’s, then.”
The queen and witch rode off to the wizard’s tower in the hills without an escort. Earwig chattered as they rode so the queen wouldn’t be suspicious. The heavy coach labored its way up the winding road with the eight horses, straining to keep a foothold on the incline.
*
At Memlatec’s tower, Aleman met the witch at the door, wiping his hands on his apron, then tossing it inside the door.
“Not at home!” Earwig said. She turned this way and that, fuming.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Aleman said. He bowed deeply to the queen while ignoring Earwig. “The wizard has been gone some time on an urgent call. Someone sent him a message that required his personal attention east of Konnotan. I’ll tell him to attend you as soon as he returns.”
Earwig nodded, thinking it was a good thing that fool messenger she hired delivered that message on time. If the wizard were home, no matter what her pretext, he’d get suspicious and interfere.
“Oh! Well, perhaps another time,” Earwig said.
“What needed such immediate attention, Duchess?” the queen asked.
“It’ll keep.”
Earwig climbed back in the coach, wheezing, squeezing through the door. She smacked powder on her oily red and purple marbled face. “It was a nice afternoon for a drive, anyway.”
As the returning coach approached the steep hillside, Earwig suddenly felt a chill. “Stop the coach.” Earwig banged on the coach roof. When the driver stopped, he put on the brake, and the heavy coach strained against the wooden brake block.
“Get a blanket for the queen,” Earwig said, then got out, stretching her legs. “There’s one in the trunk on the back.”
She waddled to the coach front, as the driver went to the back. Earwig snapped off the brake handle that she had all but sawed through that morning. She stuck the handle in a copper cylinder she had nailed to the coach to hold it. The witch replaced the iron bolt that held the horses to the coach, with a rotted wooden one – one that would break with little pressure. Just as she finished, the driver handed the queen the blanket.
“I’m not chilled,” the queen said, “but thank you anyway.” Eleatsubetsvyertsin got out of the coach to take the blanket to Earwig. “Perhaps the duchess wishes to walk so we can discuss her problem in private.”
Earwig didn’t see the queen get out of the coach, but she did see the coachman back up on the driver’s seat.
“Drive on, coachman,” she ordered. “Take the queen back to the palace. I’ve taken up enough of her time, and now I’ve lost an earring. I’ll remain here to find it. Come back for me after taking the queen home.”
No sooner had she said that than the coachman disappeared from his seat atop the coach.
“Drive on, man.” Earwig looked, but the coachman wasn’t there. “Where are you?” She became enraged, that the coachman didn’t take off at once. Overcome with anger, she forgot the brake and climbed up on the driver’s seat. She grabbed the whip to lash the horses herself. The horses, seeing their hated mistress, panicked at the sight of her with the whip. They bolted. The coach lurched forward, tearing down the hillside at breakneck speed. The horrified witch grabbed the reins and jerked back on them with all her might. “Stop! You stupid horses, Stop!”
The horses’ panic increased. When they leaped forward to escape her, the rotten bolt disintegrated. The horses raced ahead of the careening coach, jerking the witch off the coachman’s seat, and through the air. Earwig looked back to see the queen and coachman, half a mile back up on the hillside, watching her, sailing just above the treetops. They looked at each other, then hurried down the road on foot after airborne Earwig. Earwig’s ostentatious gown fanned out. She sailed still higher before she plunged to the roadbed.
By the time they found her, Earwig was only semi-conscious and pulverized from bouncing and dragging on the rocky road, which had tenderized her. She still clutched the reins to the horses, grazing beside the road.
A local farmer rushed up to help. He bowed warmly to the queen, but his face twisted when he looked down at the pulverized lump in the road. “Is it alive?”
The queen looked back, hearing something behind her further up the hill. Two other farmers had freed the coach. One was guiding it down the hill to the horses. Good, thought the queen, Earwig needs critical medical attention.
The first farmer dabbed water from a stream on the witch’s rock-encrusted face to revive her.
Earwig writhed with pain pulsing through her mangled body. Her head fell back as gruesome moans wailed from her gaping mouth. “I’ll tear those horses apart with my bare hands,” she croaked between shrieks.
The mangled horror in the road startled the farmer guiding the coach. He lost control of it.
Earwig looked up to see her massive coach, careening down the road straight for her. “No! No!” she screamed. “Stop the coach!”
The second farmer on the driver’s seat grabbed for the brake, but the handle was gone. The coach tore down the hillside, forcing the farmer to jump for his life. All moved aside and turned away, as the ponderous oak coach, with its four-foot diameter wheels, rolled over the already-mangled Earwig. The witch shrieked, collapsing into unconsciousness.
*
“We must care for Duchess Irkin here in the palace,” the queen said.
“No,” Earwig squawked. “I demand to be taken to the Earwighof, where I have special medication that can heal me.”
“If you insist,” the queen said. She turned to her servants. “Have Irkin carried home on a litter. The sound of a moving coach might push her further into madness.”
“Did you tell her about the coach?” the chatra asked the queen at the edge of the reception hall.
“No. We don’t have the heart to tell the duchess her beloved coach rolled over the edge of the cliff and was obliterated.”
* * *
Some weeks later, a courier arrived with an official pouch from King Grekenbach to Queen Eleatsubetsvyertsin. The kingdoms reestablished communications after Prince Saxthor’s visit to Graushdemheimer.
Inside the pouch was a letter to the queen sealed with the state seal of Graushdem and for the eyes of the queen and prince consort only. King Grekenbach told the queen of the most recent battle at Heggolstockin’s Feldrik Fortress. Down in the letter was the account from the fortress commander giving the highest praise to Prince Saxthor, Lord Bodrin, and their band of adventurers. The general wrote the duke, his superior, and asked that the account be sent on to King Grekenbach, and if possible, to the Queen of Neuyokkasin.
Your grace cannot know the value of the Neuyokkasin adventurers. When the enemy attacked Feldrik, not only did they return to help, but also, they volunteered to go behind enemy lines and destroy their fleet. It was through their valiant sortie that the battle’s course turned. They fired the enemy boats. That panicked the invaders and caused them to abandon the invasion and retreat. Most of the orcs’ boats burned. The garrison was able to counter-attack, and without their boats, the enemy couldn’t escape. The Akkin was at their backs. The fired boats and their officers in chaos shattered the orcs’ morale. We destroyed the remaining force.
Had Prince Saxthor, Lord Bodrin, the wizards Tournak and Hendrel, and the valiant Astorax not succeeded in the raid, the surprise attack would have overthrown Feldrik Fortress. With Feldrik taken, the northwestern half of Heggolstockin would have been open to conquest. We attribute the greatest courage and accord the highest of honors to those men in saving Feldrik Fortress and Heggolstockin.
“King Grekenbach wrote that he himself had seen exceptional courage and leadership in Saxthor when he visited Graushdemheimer,” Eleatsubetsvyertsin said to Prince Augusteros. Augusteros put his arms around his wife as she relayed their son’s praises in the let
ter. He wiped his cheek. “King Grekenbach says, ‘To have such qualities in a nobleman in these times is unusual in itself, and in the prince, it’s most refreshing.’ The king offers his highest praise to our son.”
She turned to Augusteros, looked up into his loving face, “And Augusteros, he even says, ‘He would be exceptionally proud to have such a son himself.’”
Still holding the letter in her hand, she hugged Augusteros then released him to reread the letter.
The queen kept that letter among her most treasured possessions for the rest of her life, after sharing it with Memlatec and the Countess Betsoya. Someone else’s wonderful appraisal of their sons thrilled them. The prince was winning the respect and love of both the common people and the nobility of the lands through which he traveled. Word filtered down through the royal courts to nobility and merchants, where it journeyed back to Neuyokkasin, and eventually, to the queen.
In the same diplomatic pouch was the news of the full-scale attack on Feldrik Fortress, amounting to a declaration of war on Graushdem by Dreaddrac.
“Guard, send for the court wizard, Memlatec.”
When the sorcerer arrived, a guard showed him into the council chamber with the queen and her other councilors.
“Memlatec, councilors, we wish you to hear this news from the north. The information comes from King Grekenbach himself and is to be held in the utmost confidence.” Eleatsubetsvyertsin looked at each councilor, one by one, to be sure they understood what she’d said. She continued, “Since Dreaddrac has no embassies other than Prertsten’s, and allows no foreigners within its borders, diplomatic efforts to defuse the crisis are almost impossible.”
The queen paused as the councilors chattered among themselves at the implications. Then she spoke again.
“King Grekenbach has armed his soldiers, put all fortresses on alert for attacks, and ordered more weapons from his armories. The king commanded the Duke of Heggolstockin to increase the garrisons at the border fortresses along the Akkin River.
The Neuyokkasinian Arc of Empire Series: Books 1-3 Box Set High, Epic Fantasy on a Grand Dragon Scale! Kindle Edition Page 69
