Gordan of Riss and the Malformed Sprite (A Madcap Fantasy Adventure Book 1)

by Ryan Drake

  Of course, Pingo T’Ong wasn’t there. He was in the cavern behind the palace again, but this time he wasn’t cajoling visions from the Fracture. He’d taken all he wanted from the malformed sprite and no longer spared it any attention. It languished in bindings that were considerably more secure for it than the chains that had so recently been applied to my wrists had been for me. Intermittently, it gave a keening wail. It still flickered from time to time, but in such a way as to suggest it had very little energy left. And instead of floating some inches above the ground, one of its corners now rested on the cold stone.

  Pingo didn’t care about any of this. He’d cleared a much larger space on the cavern floor and that’s where he focused his attention. He’d crafted an intricate pentagram according to ancient lore and fed it with much of the Fracture’s power. The pentagram glowed a steady green, pulsing occasionally to yellow. Pingo felt pleased.

  He chuckled under his breath and checked the scrolls he’d taken pains to copy from the visions of this very moment that the Fracture had given him.

  Now he was ready. He could move to the next phase: the summoning.

  And then he would be akin to a god!

  He was still savoring his intended victory when he heard a tentative cough from the doorway.

  Immediately enraged, he whirled towards the sound. “Didn’t I say I was not to be interrupted!?” he bellowed.

  The boy-servant standing there shuffled his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “Master, you did, but he was very insistent—”

  “I do not care how insistent he was! Whoever he is! By all the Demons of Hell, I’ll have you flogged to within an inch of your life! Now be gone from my sight! Leave me to my work—”

  Thork Yurger pushed the poor boy aside.

  “You!” Pingo said. With effort, he calmed himself down and nodded as if to himself. “You. Yes. I want to talk with you. Tell me, my assassin, what do you have to report?”

  Thork Yurger approached as if he had a right to do so. “G-g-gordan yet lives,” he said, unconsciously using almost the same words as he’d chosen the last time he’d reported his failure.

  Pingo T’Ong said nothing, so Thork continued. “The t-t-townsfolk b-b-built him a pyre and set it alight. I d-d-don’t know how he survived.”

  Still Pingo failed to respond. Thork shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable with his master’s silence.

  Slowly, Pingo’s fleshy lips curled into a sneer. “So,” he said finally. “He is coming here.”

  Thork blinked in surprise. “How—” he began, but Pingo cut him off.

  “He’s coming here! How I know matters little, but there is no doubt!” How he knew was simple. He’d studied the possible futures shown him by the Fracture so often that he knew most of them by heart.

  “Then I should—” Thork began again.

  “You should nothing!” Pingo bellowed, once more cutting him off. It was almost like he couldn’t stand to wait for the assassin’s words to come out. “You should have killed him back in Ulm! You should have killed him under the Demesne, before the orcs attacked! You should have killed him in Brelor! And yet you did not! How many chances would you like?” Suddenly, he switched from bellowing in rage to an almost fatherly mode of speaking. “Thork, I’m really trying to grant you the latitude you seem to need, but I’m no longer certain you’re cut out for the role of assassin. Are you sure it’s what you want? Is it truly your calling, or would you perhaps feel more comfortable in a less … self-directed … role?” Pingo licked his lips with a grotesquely fat tongue. Despite the change in tone, his eyes hadn’t stopped blazing for a moment. “Like sweeping my floor, perhaps? Or fertilizing my garden with your bones?!”

  “M-m-master—”

  “Don’t you m-m-master Me!” Pingo bellowed. “I’ve heard enough m-m-masters and b-b-buts and G-g-gordans to last me a lifetime! Just get out there, wait behind a boulder and shoot him when he comes into view!”

  Thork Yurger bowed deeply. “Yes, m-m-master,” he said, and turned to go.

  Pingo waited until the diminutive assassin had nearly reached the door before he said, “On second thought, I have a better idea.” Thork stopped. “This Gordan of Riss has proved very stubborn about not dying. Nor is his death strictly necessary. So instead of killing him, bring him here. Alive. He will be my first loyal subject.” He paused as if considering. “You may take as many orcs with you as you wish.”

  “And if there’s anyone with him?” Thork Yurger asked.

  “Kill them as you please.”

  26

  Under an Ominous Cloud

  We heard him before we saw him: “…ungrateful, selfish Bigfolk I ever had the misfortune to meet! (puff) After all I did for yehs, up to an’ includin’ savin’ yer lives by givin’ yehs the last of me pixie dust (pant), an’ then yehs go an’ leave me all by meself?!”

  “Max!” I exclaimed, surprised out of my worries by the sight of him. He didn’t stop flying when he reached us but instead buzzed around us like a giant fly might buzz around the leavings of a horse.

  “You didn’t even tell me yeh were back!” Max continued, directing his comment at Gabby. “An’ you!” he said, pausing in front of me to glower. “Yeh had me thinkin’ yeh were gonna die! Here was me, drownin’ me sorrows in ale, an’ all the time yeh were jus’ havin’ a laff! Why didn’t yeh tell me—?”

  “Maximus,” Gabby interrupted. “Why are you here?”

  He spun in the air to face her. “Whaddaya mean? Where else should I be?”

  “We’re not going back to Ulm. For a start, this is entirely the wrong direction.”

  “Not goin’ back…?” Max repeated. “Where are yeh goin’ then?”

  “We’re going,” I said, “To Pingo T’Ong’s palace, to find the Fracture.”

  “Oh? A palace? That don’t sound too bad….”

  “Maximus, you don’t understand. See that dark cloud up ahead? That’s over the top of the palace. It’s there because Pingo works with very dark magics. Unless my vision proves false, right now he’s in the process of summoning some sort of monster. We’re going to try to stop him.”

  “Oh,” said Max. “Oh.”

  “So the question is,” Gabby continued. “Do you really want to accompany us, or would you prefer to wait it out in a tavern somewhere?”

  Max looked uncertain.

  “Anyway,” I said. “I thought you might like it in Brelor. You could do worse than The Puking Orc as a place to live. It’s not so different from The Rancid Pusball that you’d really notice. So why do you care about going back to Ulm so much?”

  Max’s uncertainty changed into something that looked like embarrassment but surely couldn’t have been. He turned away so he wasn’t looking at either of us. “I got a wife there,” he said.

  “What!?” Gabby and I both said it together.

  “Yeh heard me!” said Max. “I got a wife there! An’ I ain’t seen her since you came into me life! For all I know, she burned up in the fire!”

  Once again I understood just how much bad luck I’d brought into his life. But all I managed to say was, “You have a wife?”

  “Didn’t I jus’ say that?!”

  “Maximus,” I said, unconsciously echoing Gabby’s formality. “Go back to Brelor. Wait for me there. If we survive this next little episode, we’ll take you back to Ulm. I promise.”

  “Hmmph,” said Max. Then, “Nah, I’m still comin’ with yehs. If I don’t, yeh’ll end up dead for sure, an’ then where would I be?”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Of course not! Yeh’ll probably get me killed!” he said. Then he snickered a little under his breath. “But if it all goes true to form, it oughta be a hell of a ride!”

  And with that, he plopped himself back on my shoulder and the three of us continued on our way.

  It didn’t take very long after that for my worries to start coming back. And I had good cause; the path we were follo
wing was windy and narrow, with a steep drop on one side and a hill, nearly as steep, on the other. To my mind, the hill seemed a very good spot for someone to hide and roll boulders down on us from complete safety. The worst part of it all was that it looked like it would be like this all the way to Pingo’s palace.

  “Max?” I said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Would you mind flying up and taking a quick look at the top of the hills for us?”

  “What do I look like to you? An extra set of yer own eyeballs?”

  “It’s important. See if there’s anyone looking for us.”

  He understood. Muttering under his breath about still being tired from the effort it took to catch up with us, he did as I asked.

  Gabby and I continued onwards and Max soon returned. “Nothin’ to see,” he grumbled. I nodded and sent him out again a few minutes later, then again, and again.

  “Still nothin’,” he said the first time. “An’ again, nothin’,” he said the second time. “Good view, but nothin’ to see.” Then, “Saw some droppings. Wanna check ’em out?” Then, “Nothin’ to report, except that The Puking Orc is lookin’ mighty good about now.” Then, “Still nothin’. ’Cept that cloud is startin’ to look real nasty.”

  Once I’d sent Max away again, I turned to Gabby. “He’s right,” I said. “There’s something wrong with that cloud. It’s the wrong color. And see that? It’s lightning, but there’s no thunder and it doesn’t seem to touch the ground.” It also seemed to suck the warmth out of the air, as if we were moments away from an ice-storm.

  “It is fairly ominous,” Gabby replied.

  “Orcs! Orcs! There are orcs comin’ this way!” This last from Max, who was flying very quickly towards us.

  “Which way?” I asked at the same time as Gabby said, “How far? How many are there?”

  “How should I know how far? What do I look like, some sorta measurin’ rod? Let’s just get outta here!”

  “Maximus!”

  He shook himself, grumbled a little under his breath and said, “Keep ridin’ this way an’ you’ll see ’em for yerselves. There’s many, a dozen or so. Maybe four, five minutes away, maybe more. Come on, let’s go!”

  More orcs. As if we hadn’t had enough trouble from them already. I was all for following Max’s advice, but Gabby didn’t look interested in going anywhere. So I stayed where I was and asked another question. “Was there anybody else with them?”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah. That small Bigfolk that likes his crossbow. Now are we gettin’ out from under this ’orrible cloud or what?”

  Thork Yurger, I thought, had caused me entirely too much trouble over the past few days. I looked around, seeking inspiration. And I found it. “Gabby,” I started.

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Gabriella, I’ve got an idea. Take the horses and head back the way we came.”

  It was the wrong thing to say. She drew herself up and said, “If you think I’m going to turn around after coming all this way—”

  “Huh? No, that’s not what I mean,” I said, and told her what I had in mind. When I’d finished, I slid from my saddle and handed her the reins. “Hurry. We don’t have much time.”

  She turned the horses and did as I’d asked.

  I watched her for only a moment. “Coming?” I said to Max. Not waiting for him to reply, I continued, “Good. Keep an eye out. I wouldn’t want to run into an orc unexpectedly.” Then I scampered as quickly as I could up the hill.

  Finding a likely spot, I hid and placed my back against a boulder that must have weighed maybe four times more than I did. I made sure I had enough leverage. “Max? I can’t see the path from here. Let me know when they arrive.”

  Inwardly, I stifled a laugh. Not more than a few minutes ago I’d been worried that someone could have rolled boulders down on our heads, and now I was planning to do exactly that to my friend Thork Yurger and his orcs.

  And it would serve him right, I thought. To not use such an obvious option was almost criminally dumb.

  I didn’t have to wait very long. It must have been only a minute or so before the first waft of armpit stench told me they were close. Not long after, I heard the small sounds of movement, of metal scraping on stone. But I didn’t hear much else. They were being quiet, I realized, to avoid warning me away.

  “Now?” I whispered to Max.

  “Not yet,” he whispered back. “Twenty paces, maybe.” He paused briefly. “Fifteen.” I started to push, knowing it would take a little time. “Ten paces.” I pushed harder, understanding now that this boulder was actually very heavy indeed. “Five paces. Now, Gordan! Yeh gotta push now! Two paces! Come on, or yeh’ll miss ’em!”

  I shoved with all my strength. The boulder moved a little, then a little more, and then it went over. I turned to look, saw that the orcs had paused at the noise and were staring straight at me. But they were also staring at not just the large boulder I’d toppled, but also at the half-dozen smaller ones it had already dislodged. The orcs had time to cry out and then the boulders smashed into them.

  They disappeared under a cloud of dust and stones.

  “Yes!” I yelled. “How does a boulder crashing into your helmet feel! Take that, Thork Yurger! You’ll never point your crossbow at me again!”

  I was ecstatic! It had worked even better than I’d hoped. I fully expected every one of those orcs to be no more than a sticky pile of mush. And when the dust cleared, I might even be able to pick through the ruins in the hope of finding a few weapons. Although by the looks of it, most of those might well be no more than twisted pieces of metal.

  My adrenalin-fueled euphoria might have lasted all the way to Pingo’s palace if a voice hadn’t chosen that moment to say, “What, th-th-this one?”

  I kept looking at the carnage, for a moment unwilling to even contemplate what those words might mean.

  “I’m s-s-sorry, but it looks like you’re v-v-very much m-m-mistaken,” the voice came again.

  “Shush,” I said. “Don’t spoil this.”

  The dust had already started to clear. I looked at all those mangled orcs and wondered if Thork Yurger might be among them. He should be, according to what Max had said. But I couldn’t see him anywhere.

  “Max, you don’t have to hang around here any longer,” I said casually. “How about flying back along the path for a while? You know, back the way we came.”

  “Who are you t-t-talking to?” asked the voice. “Oh, that’s right. Your p-p-pet f-f-fairy. He can g-g-go. But it’s t-t-time for you to t-t-turn around!”

  Max started to splutter about being called a fairy, but I shook my head. “Not now,” I muttered.

  When he took the hint and left, I uttered a quiet sigh. I knew Thork Yurger wasn’t among the squashed, just as I knew he was standing behind me with his crossbow aimed right at me. Or at least another one much like it, as I’d given his first one to Gabby. And I still didn’t have any armor.

  “N-n-now!”

  It was time to face reality. I turned and found exactly the picture I’d expected. Except that Thork Yurger wasn’t alone. He was flanked by a pair of orcs that wore matching expressions of murderous anger.

  I nodded at them as if to acquaintances passing on the road. “Ok. You got me. Now what?”

  “N-n-now you get to m-m-meet my m-m-master,” Thork Yurger replied. As one, the orcs started towards me.

  27

  Summoning

  Since coming to Ulm I’d spent almost as much time being a prisoner as I had being free. First it had been Gabby tying me up. Sure, it hadn’t been for long, and I’d escaped fairly easily. But then the Immaculate Captain had locked both me and Gabby in a cage. After that, one of the Shadow’s orcs had thrown all three of us into a dungeon, where I’d endured one of the longest, coldest nights of my life. Then the townsfolk of Brelor had seen fit to chain me to a post in the middle of my own funeral pyre, an experience which had left me with a lovely set
of matching metal bracelets and quite a lot of questions.

  And now I was a prisoner again.

  This time there were no ropes, no chains, and not an iron bar in sight. Despite these lacks, I was as caught as ever I had been before. Thork Yurger’s crossbow saw to that, as did the orcs. The latter were doing me the kindness of holding my arms very tightly indeed.

  And yes, I do mean ‘kindness’. If it hadn’t been for their support I might well have collapsed onto Pingo T’Ong’s polished stone floors. And that, considering how banged up I was, would very likely have hurt.

  It hadn’t been a fun trip to the palace. Thork Yurger had taken to expressing his frustrations as we walked. As it turned out, he had a lot of them. It seemed he hadn’t had a fulfilling childhood, had always had difficulties with the opposite sex, and ever since entering adulthood had struggled to gain the respect he so richly deserved. In no small way, I was responsible for this. He might even have had a point. Pingo T’Ong certainly respected him less than he might once have done, and that was due to Thork’s repeated failure at the small task of ending my life.

  I found it all pretty boring really, and strove to block it out. When that didn’t work, I tried talking over his words, but he seemed very keen to unload. But when I mimicked his stutter he grew angry and started expressing his frustrations in a different way.

  Beating me with the butt of his crossbow seemed to be his method of choice.

  I now had numerous fresh bruises, scrapes and cuts on top of the old, partially healed bruises, cuts and scrapes that I’d gained from earlier beatings. My left leg was somewhat numb due to a fine blow to a nerve bundle on my hip, I could taste my own blood seeping from a split on my lip, and my left eye was swollen almost shut. And to top it all off, that uncomfortable feeling in my chest hadn’t gone away. If anything, it was even worse than before.

  Because of my various injuries staying upright was a struggle. But that didn’t stop me from keeping an eye out for any of Pingo’s things that might be worth stealing, should I ever have the opportunity to do so.