My so-called bodyguard remained silent. He simply stood there by James’s side.
“I’m afraid he can’t answer,” James said. “He’s been like this ever since I found him. Poor fellow was standing there guarding a tree stump, most likely thinking it was you.”
I narrowed my eyes as a thought hit me. “Compelled?”
“Undoubtedly. Sadly, whoever did so is stronger than me. I can’t undo it.”
“Then why is he here?” Tom asked. “Isn’t that, y’know, a little risky?”
“A fair enough question,” James replied. “I don’t believe so. Nergui appears to have been given several neutral compulsions. I can’t tell the details, but obviously it includes orders to not speak of it. But fear not. His honor is unbending. He is here to provide protection at his mistress’s wishes. Even compelled, I believe should anyone make an attempt against Dr. Death’s life that his original orders will take precedence.”
“Will that work?” Christy asked.
“Yeah, it should,” I said, having had some firsthand experience. “Older vamps have more resistance against these things. Also, they can be shrugged off if the emotion is strong enough.”
“Quite true,” James added. “And I will vouch that there is no stronger emotion for Nergui than seeing his duty fulfilled.” He nodded at his men to step aside for Christy. “I must apologize for my rudeness. As a member of a rival delegation here under protection of truce, you are of course free to go.”
“Thank you,” she replied, then added, “What about this human?” She indicated Tom. “He was with me when these alleged crimes were committed.”
“Alas, he is a member of Dr. Death’s contingent. As such, they must all stand with him.”
“Thanks for trying, hon,” Tom said with a smirk. “It’s no big deal. I’m used to Bill pulling the rest of us down with him.”
I somehow resisted smacking him upside the head. Instead, I asked James, “So what now?”
“Typically, conspirators at functions such as this would immediately be put to death.” I opened my mouth to reply, but he held up a hand. “However, since you are the figurative leader of our side, that’s a little different. I believe you will be given special consideration and at least be allowed to speak in your defense. I will caution, though: you should choose your words wisely.”
“We are so fucked,” Sally mumbled. Knowing my own penchant for verbal sparring, I wasn’t entirely sure she was incorrect.
♦ ♦ ♦
Fortunately, there weren’t any handcuffs or restraints added to the scenario, another perk of my current station. Marching in with my head held high, as opposed to dragged in chains, might have a bit of a psychological effect in my favor ... hopefully.
Christy left us to rejoin her own group, assuring us she’d keep them in check for the time being. It was small comfort at best. The witches were the least of my worries, though. Being torn limb from limb by a bunch of Sasquatches was my chief concern right at that moment. Of course, being disintegrated by the giant glowing ball of doom wouldn’t exactly be a walk in the park either.
Oh, well, I was sure I had an ace up my sleeve ... somewhere. Hopefully I could even figure out what that was before it was too late.
♦ ♦ ♦
In many ways, I was kind of glad that Turd had set me up as the bad guy the day before. It made the crowd’s reaction to my entrance seem less surprising. I was already used to feeling like the heel at a WWE event. I could handle this.
SPPT
“Take that, assassin!”
Or not.
Eww, goblin spit. That was fucking nasty. Got it in my hair, too. Jesus Christ, when this was all over (assuming I survived) I was going to spend an entire week in a nice hot shower.
“Ouch!” Again! This time, some little six-armed pixie thing nailed me in the forehead with an acorn. It was so comforting to know that, regardless of species, angry mobs were pretty much all the same.
James’s men and Nergui all moved closer to me. James was right – compelled or not, Nergui was still doing his duty. That was something, I guess.
Sorta, anyway. Some flying thing buzzed over us and spilled its drink on my head ... at least I hoped it was a drink.
Either way, it was clear someone had been working the crowd against me. It was pretty obvious who that someone was. François had probably made a beeline back to the conference after escaping. It made sense. After all, he had more to gain by ratting me out than by staying and fighting. He knew I couldn’t kill Turd without starting a war. Conversely, if Turd won, he would have killed my friends and dragged my battered body back for the same end result. I had walked right into their trap just like a dumbass.
Sure enough, standing there in the arena was François surrounded by his lackeys. One of his legs was wrapped in blood-soaked bandages. That was odd. He had already been healing when last I saw him.
I didn’t see any sign of Turd yet, but did notice an awful lot of fur. Numerous Sasquatches stood around the perimeter of the meeting area, far more than had been there on previous days. That explained the empty village earlier. This was supposed to be a momentous day. After all, it was rumored that a new treaty was to be announced. Now, though, they all had a possible execution to look forward to as well. Wonderful; two spectacles for the price of one.
James and his men marched us to the bottom of the valley. There, all but Nergui stepped aside. Rather than leave and take their seats as before, they all moved to the perimeter. My friends and I were left standing there, unshackled and unguarded. It was clear, though, that such precautions were unnecessary. Considering the vamps and Sasquatches standing all around, there was no chance for escape.
♦ ♦ ♦
A crackle of thunder blasted forth, no doubt meant to catch the crowd’s attention. However, they were far rowdier than in days past. Our floating moderator thingee actually had to do it twice to get everyone to quiet down. I was personally hoping to see whether it would do so a third time or just start disintegrating random creatures. That’d be a hell of a way to deal with hecklers. Unfortunately, no such luck. The orb glowed brightly for a moment, possibly irked that its authority had been questioned, but then settled back down to its normal weirdness.
“THIS SESSION IS NOW IN ORDER ... THE GATHERED WILL RESPECT THAT.” The threat hung in the air for a moment or two before it continued. “UNUSUAL CIRCUMSTANCES (unusual?) HAVE BEEN BROUGHT TO LIGHT. NON-PARTICIPANTS IN THESE TALKS HAVE REQUESTED AN AUDIENCE FOR GRIEVANCES. IT IS DECIDED THAT THEY WILL BE HEARD BEFORE PROCEEDINGS WILL CONTINUE.”
Grievances? Jeez, talk about an understatement.
“FRANÇOIS OF THE VAMPIRES IS RECOGNIZED.”
François had time for one quick look of smug satisfaction before hobbling forward to the center of the area, milking it a bit for added effect.
He cleared his throat loudly (douche) and said, “Today was to have been a momentous occasion. In a show of mutual respect, my people and our honorable rivals have been meeting outside of the confines of this conference...”
“THAT IS HIGHLY UNUSUAL,” the glow-ball interrupted.
“Unusual, but necessary. We wished to meet each other face to face as equals, away from the eyes of those who have sought to disrupt the peace process.” He cast a baleful glare at me. The motherfucker had no doubt rehearsed this. Probably had a script in his back pocket and all.
“It was time well spent. We discovered that neither of our species wishes war and were able to build upon that mutual desire. In just a few short days, we have been able to accomplish what our ancestors took months to do. Today we were to share those results with you. Sadly, this historic undertaking has been marred ... marred by treachery.”
Whispers, growls, and gurgles of “Treachery!” rose up from the crowd. Talk about playing to the audience.
“SPEAK YOUR ACCUSATION.”
“Yes,” said François, building up the drama in his voice. “I shall. I accuse the Freewill!” He pointed a finger directly
at my face. I was tempted to bite it, but I had the feeling that wouldn’t exactly help my case.
“Just a few short hours ago,” he continued, “I met with the leader of the Northern Tribes. I had been told of the wonderful news – that our two races would continue to coexist peacefully. As the humble servant (yeah, right) of my people in this region, I wished to convey my personal thanks to Turd for his honorable actions.”
A slight movement in my periphery caught my eye. All of the Sasquatches at the perimeter were standing in rapt attention to François’s tale. I could have sworn, though, I saw a distinct sneer of contempt from one at the mention of Turd’s honor. Was that Grulg? Damn, how I wished these fucking monsters were all wearing nametags.
Despite my momentary distraction, François continued speaking. I missed a bit, but it’s not as if I couldn’t fill in the blanks. “...Freewill had already shown his disdain by defiling this place. But, was it enough? No, not nearly enough to satiate his war-mongering. He and his cohorts, whether compelled or simply enthralled by him, ambushed us. We fought back, knowing that peace is worth more than either of our lives.
“Sadly, you are all well aware of the Freewill’s power. I was barely able to escape with my life, sustaining grievous injuries in the process.” He indicated his leg. “Turd’s fate, alas, is unknown. He bravely fought on, demanding I flee and live to tell of this tragedy. I have since asked the members of his tribe to send a search party looking for him. I can only hope that he, too, was able to escape the ravenous clutches of the beast that stands before us.”
Various cries came from the audience as he ended his little fantasy.
“Murderer!”
“Enemy of the peace!”
“Filthy pile of klobagh!”
I didn’t need a translator to figure out that last one. Motherfucking François! He had played them all like a violin. It was like standing in a courtroom facing off against a masterful lawyer ... which, come to think of it, wasn’t entirely outside the realm of reality. The guy was at least seven hundred years old. Who knew what kind of degrees he had?
Well, fuck that, I say. He may have had more centuries under his belt, but I wasn’t exactly a slouch. I had a decade of role-playing experience and a semester with the NJIT drama society. Hell, I’ve even watched Law and Order once or twice. If I was going down, I’d do so swinging ... verbally at least.
“THE ACCUSED SHALL ANSWER THE ACCUSATIONS.”
I moved to step forward, but Sally grabbed my arm. “Don’t fuck this up,” she hissed. Gee, whatever happened to “good luck” or “go get ‘em, sport?”
“No worries,” I confidently replied. “I got this in the bag.”
I walked forward and then took a dramatic pause to scan the crowd. I made brief eye contact with as many beings as I could (at least those with eyes) before attempting to entrance them with my oratory eloquence.
“François’s charges are all ... bullshit.” (Did I say eloquence?) Maybe not the best opening line ever, but that was okay. I could still win the crowd over. “For starters, you’re several hundred years old, correct?”
“I don’t see what my age has to do with your crimes, but yes,” he answered.
Now for the coup de grace. “A vampire of your age should heal pretty damn fast. I say you self-inflicted the wounds on your leg right before coming out here.” There were murmurs from the crowd at that. Oh, yeah, his entire case was about to fall flat on its ass and I wasn’t even finished with my first thought yet. “I think we both know that any damage I did to you would have healed long before now.”
“Like when you attacked me earlier?”
“Yes ... I mean no! I didn’t...”
“See?” François bellowed to the crowd. “He admits his crime!”
Oh crap. I turned back toward Sally. She let out an exasperated sigh and dropped her face into her hands.
“That’s not what I...”
“Shall we be forced to listen to more of his lies?”
“Hold on,” I cried, trying to get control. “I’ll admit there was a fight...”
Cries of “Deceiver!” and “Treachery!” began rumbling through the crowd.
“But it was all François’s fault. He and Turd ... err ... there were these barrels of syrup ... um.”
“SYRUP?” the glowing thing asked in a doubtful tone.
“Well ... yeah.”
“Must we continue this charade?” François spat. “It is obvious that the Freewill is either lying or has been driven mad by his bloodlust.”
Oh boy, this wasn’t quite turning out as I had planned. Maybe I should’ve stayed in the drama club for an extra semester.
The crowd was now in an uproar. Innumerable threats were voiced. More debris was thrown onto the field. It looked about ten seconds away from turning into the world’s freakiest lynch mob. I noticed Nergui inch closer to me. Bless his insane honor. Not that it would do me any good if a hundred monsters straight out of my childhood nightmares descended upon me.
“ORDER!” the moderator demanded. Unfortunately, even he was starting to lose control. I had little doubt the disintegrations were only a few moments away.
Just then, though, the crowd quieted. A hush came over them, followed by surprised gasps.
I started looking around for the source, when one of the Sasquatches pointed and barked, “Turd! Turd lives!”
I looked to the far side of the hollow to see, unsurprisingly, that he was right. Turd entered, flanked on either side by two other Bigfeet. He was an absolute mess. Blood was splattered across his front and sides. Nail marks ran down his cheek and chest. The skulls he wore glistened with gore. In short, he and François must’ve shared the same playbook because he looked a hell of a lot worse than when I left him. I had merely stunned him, but he looked as if I had backed over him with an eighteen wheeler. Bunch of fucks.
As he walked toward the arena floor, the Sasquatches around us all broke into chants of, “Turd, Turd, Turd!” Despite the grimness of the situation, I had to smirk. Damn, but it was still funny.
All eyes were on his entrance, save François’s and mine. Ours met and locked on each other. I mouthed the word “asshole” at him and he grinned in return. Between the two of them, they were going to bury me. Talk about unfair.
Turd made his way to the center, directly opposite me. François gave him a respectful bow and stepped aside.
“TURD IS RECOGNIZED,” came the booming voice of our moderator.
“Freewill T’lunta try to kill Turd. But Turd still lives!” the ugly fucker screamed to the crowd. “Freewill want war!” he added, drawing more nasty responses from those around us. He raised one hand to point it accusingly at me. It was covered in dirt and grime. Leaves and twigs stuck to it. I could see ants and assorted other bugs scuttling through his glistening fur.
Wait a second ... glistening!
That was it. Whereas François had been smart enough to clean himself up a bit before coming here, Turd had merely messed himself up more. The filthy fucker hadn’t bothered to wash off the syrup. Maybe I still had a chance.
“Turd wish for peace with...”
“Turd wishes for nothing but profit!” I yelled out, drawing silence from everyone in the arena.
“THE FREEWILL HAS NOT BEEN REC...”
“Excuse me, but this is important,” I said, risking a lightning bolt to the face. “Look at him. I mentioned syrup before and this asshole is practically covered with it. Syrup ... the sap from the sacred tree.”
The Mourning Woods (The Tome of Bill Book 3) Page 32
