by Pwyll Duggan
That grin disappears as I see someone new heading our way, Priest's robes a dead giveaway. I duck into Rosie's stall and cast Invisibility, standing stock still. Rose and Thomas look around unsure as the Priest gets close, waving at Rose.
"Captain St James, Captain St James. Where's this Shielder. His highness demands that he be checked for spells before he goes out." Rose catches on fast.
"Sorry Head Priest, he's away at the moment. Call of nature."
"Ahh, yes. I will return later then." He slowly walks off, looking around as he goes.
"What was that about?" She asks, looking forward. Smart girl.
"A priest can see my stats. My level and sometimes what I can do. He then reports that to the Prince and it's game over for me." I lean to Thomas.
"I need two favours here Thomas. I need 50 or 60 attendants to come in and use my money to bet on me. And I need a large blanket that will cover me all up. What odds do I get?"
"20 to 1, tax free." I giggle.
"Make that as many friends as possible. They need to hand those tokens to Rose. Rose will take names. Everyone will get 100 imperials if they help out." Thomas races off, thumbs up as he runs.
"You don't need the money." Rose talks, facing forward still, voice low, hinting at disappointment.
"Rose St James, have you thought of WHO I'm taking the money FROM?" She sighs, then the light clicks, heading going up.
"His uncle profits from his crimes. And that means he might be the bank used for others." She's getting excited now. "Take that money out of their pockets, making it hard for them to pay for their schemes. Or their lifestyles..." She's really lit up now, so I add.
"And he has to pay it today, in public. So, he needs that money today." She finishes it off.
"And that comes from Duke Reynolds treasury, meaning he owes the Duke, with interest or conditions. And if he is in league with what's going on - loses the money for bribes. If you win that is."
"Think outside the box Rose." She turns, but of course can't see me.
"Sorry, means don't think like normal. Try it from a different angle. I need to win. I win by defeating him. HIM, not what he's wearing or using. I get him to do what I want, using his wonderful magic for my benefit. Then rip his world apart. Think unarmed combat, disarming him. Taking what he's got." She turns that over in her head as the priest appears again. This time I shout out, loud enough for passer-by’s and the interested parties staying near to hear me.
"Away with you Corrupted Priest. As a Shielder I can FEEL your corruption. Begone from my sight." He blanches, not seeing me and races off again.
"That trick has got one or two goes left. Need that blanket." I sit down behind the door and start counting out piles of 10 imperials. Rose gets out a notebook as Thomas returns, bundle being carried by two others.
"Will this do?" as they enter, not seeing me. I pick it up, as it hovers the other two catch on.
"Hey, that's really smart. It's like catching those Imager Beasts. Make them wear something so you can see them. You wear this, and that's all they see. Noice."
I pass a bag to Rose and she shoots off, betting twice, 1000 per. The attendants, then maids, then servers and cooks all get in, another 100 bets at 20 each. 4000 imperials getting me 80000 winnings, If I live.
I strip to my boxers, items going one by one into the storage. Almost full now, so much just in case. The bag of apples drops to my feet, Rosie happy to see them. I bundle the blanket around myself, making a long monkish hood first, then wrapping myself several times over. I take the chance to recharge everything and refresh my enhancements. I add fly and sit down, waiting. Setting up for an open-air funeral takes time, especially if the Prince is going to dish it out to me.
A band is now playing, people are dancing and singing as the crowds grow. Underlying tension between royal guards and the staff is high, with a few tussles breaking out. I see James strolling over, worry on his face. My hood visible from the distance, but not my face. As he gets close, he starts talking.
"So what evil are you planning here. Rigging the betting. I may have seen you fight, but Karloff is killer with a rapier." As he turns, he sees the hood is empty. He looks around before I speak.
"Bloody priest is corrupt. They can see my levels and what I can do. This way he can't see that and buff the prince against me. No need to let them get more of an advantage."
"Ah, good to know. Good plan. Should I bet for or against?"
"Really?"
"Haha. After this farce is over have some food and get to the main house. You have lessons, my boy. And probably a few mortal enemies. Well a few more. Ciao, or whatever those frilly collared ones say." He waves as he goes off. Passing the priest as he does, this time with two royal guards. Cheering starts from the crowd. Seems Karloff has taken the field.
"Enough games Shielder, come out now." Opening the gate, I come out, all bundled up. The priest laughs.
"That's not going to help you..." he stops, looking in and seeing nothing. My turn to laugh.
"That's not going to help him. Take me to the field of honour. NOW." I walk off, leading the way. Rose is walking parallel and slowly my path gets lined by attendants, then servants, maids and any and all of the hired help, all actively blocking the royal guards not escorting me. More fights break out, but my unofficial bodyguards prevent more cheating.
Rose has front row seats, Princess at her side, flanked by James and Gerald. James has a hand across his chest, finger pointing up at an angle. I follow it to another royal draped booth. Must by Uncle William, looking rather nervous, ordering guards around. I see someone come up and he starts shouting.
I walk out on the field and the crowd hushes. Karloff is out there, prancing around in the Royal coat, rapier sparkling in the sun. He turns to me, questioning look cross his face. The Priest and guard hurry from the field, Karloff looking more annoyed as time passes. Master of arms comes to me, rapier in hand. He looks under the hood, seeing nothing. I drop the invisibility, grinning at him. He hands me the Rapier, hilt first. He whispers.
"I'd wish you luck, but he cheats." He sighs. He's voice raises so that all can hear, the grandstands full. Must be 100 plus nobles, plus all the hangers-on, children, relatives, hand maids and bodyguards. Pushing a thousand blood thirsty witnesses. Karloff does so like to play with his victims.
"Please remove your armaments and stand clear Lord Walsh. His Highness has already been cleared."
I bounce up a little, pushing the blanket cloak up and off. I'm standing naked, apart from black boxers - Nyssa Originals of course. Doll is as retracted as far she can get, leaving most of her unseen on my back. The crowd gasps as I raise my hands high. I turn slowly for the Master at arms and he nods, leaving the field.
Karloff is grinning, swing his rapier back and forth, humming thru the air, walking back and forth. It's an overly done design, the hilt surround by twisting golden wires, like Italian rapiers, or just like from the Princes Bride. I just stab mine down, sticking it out of the ground.
"I figure you'll last me a whole hour of nice playing." I ignore him, bouncing on the balls of my feet, stretching my arms, trying to get loose. He's so overconfident I almost feel sorry for him.
No, I don't. Not really.
He salutes me with his sword, trying for the old sun reflection in the eyes trick. Fine, whatever. I roll my shoulders, take a deep breath and shout.
"Here starts the lesson."
Chapter 15
Karloff grins as he lunges at my resting arms. Going for the wound, enjoying his prey, his meal. My Left arm shoots out, running down his blade, his eyes barely registering what's happening. I step forward as my left hand grabs his rapier's swept and wired hilt, fingers grabbing the wires as I pull, him and the rapier coming to me. Right hand runs up the coat of arms. Karloff opens his mouth, about to shout and I stick my fingers inside, thumb outside, holding the bottom of his jaw.
I cast, fingers touching the roof of his mouth.
"Goodbye" I whisp
er, fingers curling down, grabbing his jawbone, snapping tendons and flesh. And I pull with all my enhanced strength, ripping back, twisting my whole body to do so. He's jaw is ripped out of his face, blood following me as I leap back, standing well clear. I drop the jaw, silence descending on the crowd. Karloff is grasping at the remains of his face, eyes bulging. The only noise is the blood flowing and the screams starting from the crowd.
I shout again, right hand shaped as a gun.
"Here ends the lesson. And the corrupt!" following my internal count, I drop my thumb.
Karloff's head explodes, taking his body with it. He follows that old standard land mine procedure - when encountered, leap in the air and spread yourself over a large area. The screaming continues as Rose stands, tossing me the bag of tokens. I shout again.
"LORD WILLIAM. You have a debt to me of 80 thousand imperials. You profited from Karloff's evil for a very long time. You have until the ball tonight to settle our debt, or your life is forfeit. As per the Kings Law for INTERFERING with the actions of a Shielder. If you do not do this, I will get said debt from your immediate blood relatives AFTER I pull your soul from your dead body." Royal guards are rushing onto the field of honour, so I take Karloff's soul with me as I fly off. Up, up and away.
I get higher than the grandstands and pop invisibility back on and do a loop of the stables, landing and walking back to Rosie. James is leaning on one side of the slightly open stall gate, Gerald on the other. I walk past, going in.
"Morning gents. Bring any lunch?" James grins and Gerald coughs. I hide in a corner, go visible while getting dressed. I wash off my hands in the process and get fully armoured up. Back into fight mode. Various Royal patrols go past, looking for someone and the crowd is dispersing rapidly.
"Now that is interesting." James comments, head looking up to the stands. Following his gaze, I see Duke William arguing with someone, covered in robes and a large hood. The guard that person has grabs my attention more. All four have spears, like the Lamia use, same shafts and all. I mumble "Lamia" and Gerald looks back at me, then up.
"No, that's Countess Murdock, or at least whoever is representing her. No-one is allowed near her yet, much to my chagrin. The things nobles do to scheme and plan." I go to say more as the crowd is pushed apart by force near us.
It's Captain St James that's walking towards, flanked by two Royal Guards and two Ducal guards. Both sets have hands on hilts, eying each other off. Time to put them in their place. I stride out towards them, Gerald asking,
"What are you up too?" I answer as I stride past.
"Trouble, what else."
Helm goes down and with my mask in place I can feel my daemons roar. Time to misbehave.
I'm spotted as I leave the stall. People stop, guards turn, and it starts to get quiet again. The Ducal guards turn to face their Royal counterparts, whom start to draw their weapons. Spectacle time again. I start shouting.
"Arrest these guards for Crimes against the Kingdom. Covering up multiple murders. Crimes un-befitting Officers of the King!" they halt as the Ducal guards draw weapons, others in the crowd follow and start stepping forward. I lower my voice.
"Please draw." I reach my hand up and grip Princess's hilt. "My Princess here wants your souls. And she's hungry."
And with that comment the pommel blinks open, her eye moving around then stopping on the guards. They gasp, and hands withdraw from their weapons.
They get grabbed from behind, weapons taken and pulled away. Other guards start detaining more Royal Guards, the fight leaving them all, maybe from finally realising the truth, or the fact no-one really likes them. I drop to a knee in front of Captain St James.
"Captain my Captain. What are your orders." Through gritted teeth, I get that she's annoyed.
"Get up you idiot, your embarrassing me and giving all these people the wrong impression." Helm tilts back on its own, Dolly grabbing the edges, getting wide looks for the crowd. I'm grinning.
"I'm alive, rich and made life very interesting for myself. Thought I would share that confusion all round. Imagine the rumours about this event. The stories about me, me and you, us, would be good to hear. Can't wait for the ball now." She goes a little red, huffs and storms off past me. The Ducal guards grin thru their open helms at me and run after her. She shouts behind me.
"Dancing lessons for you Shielder!" oh snap, I forgot that. Maybe finding lunch will take a few hours.
People mingle around me, all looking but only whispers, none to me. I stand as Lord Ottoman, Gerald acting even prissier, walks stiffly to my side, crowd parting at his presence. He doesn't look at me when he addresses me.
"Lord Walsh, you have an appointment to keep at the Lodge." He strolls away as I follow. No rest for the wicked then.
We follow a well-kept path and as we clear the stable blocking the view, the Lodge comes into sight. It's not a lodge, it’s a palace and a castle all in one. Most of it is three stories high, in stone. A few towers at each end adding a few more stories - well apartment towers really. One side is all huge wooden log construction, each log one whole story by itself. That side dwarfs the 'palace'. Hedge gardens and fountains dot the sides of paths and roads. Wide glass windows look out from everywhere. Curtains drape across every window. A wide stone patio skirts around all that I can see. Shit, you could play a mean soccer/football match on that, knees be damned.
Windows framed by white stone and the Ducal flag flying everywhere. Potted flowers add colour to the green hedges and the sound of running water from the fountains adds to the ambiance. The relaxed and majestic feel is only slightly disturbed by all the armoured guards, mounted troops and the overdressed peerage moving along all the various paths. Lord Ottoman nods to many we pass, guards standing to attention, some saluting. I'm being led to a wide set of stairs into one of the logs that make up that wing.
As Lord Ottoman gets to the first step the veterans at the double doors step forward, one rapping his fist on the door. They have strange half-shields and spears. I watch as the spears lock down into the missing part of the shield, leaving them only barely needing the use of their weapon arm to attack. The spears stay ready as they salute Lord Ottoman. Gerald stops at the top step.
"Captain, this is Shielder Walsh. He has the guest quarters on the second floor. Have the dogs get his scent and have your men be aware of just who he is." The captain salutes again.
"Sir!" and does this short, high pitched whistle.
From out of the doorway two long geckos, the size of large dogs run out and stop next to Lord Ottoman. They have large pads on their feet and long lizard bodies, tails moving slowly. Gerald reaches into a coat pocket, pulling out a paper wrapped object. Both geckos sit up a little, making their collars visible. Gerald drops two hand sized beetles on the ground in front of them. He waits and snaps his fingers. Red frog like tongues whip out, bulb at the end sticking to the beetles, who start to smoke, then whip back into their mouths.
I remove my gauntlets as I watch them chew, pushing them into my belt. I kneel, watching them eat. Giant lizards as pets. No insect problems around here. Or rats either. I put a hand out, palm down, just like when you meet a dog for the first time. Palm down so they smell you, not whatever you held last. That’s what I was taught anyway.
The Captain whistles again, a different tone and they come over to me. Tongues pop out and wash their eyes. Geckos don't have eyelids, so they are always watching. I get a few sniffs, then a lick or two on my hands. One decides my back is more interesting and climbs over me, pads sticking and releasing as they go. They can climb most surfaces, even go upside down. Spiderman would be jealous; their adhesion strength is hundreds of times their weight. Cool, maybe a large gecko mount would be fun.
Another whistle breaks my thoughts and they run back inside. I receive a quick salute from the Captain and a "Off we go Walsh" from Gerald. The hall's lit with crystals instead of light fittings. Every surface is wood grained, various stained colours making a swirl of impressions running wi
th the grain of the wood. Since this is a hunting lodge, I was expecting stuffed animals lining the walls, instead it's paintings with small plaques. We pass hallways, large and small doors. Servants in butler or maid outfits bow as we pass. A few of them shoot a glance at me, giving me the odd smile or nod. Okay, somethings going on.
The middle of the long wide hall opens to a curving staircase to the next floor. We don't go up, but to a pair of double doors under the overhanging stairs to the next level. Lord Ottoman knocks gently twice and opens the door. It's a dance studio, looking very much like a ballet school. Mirrored wall to the left, 'piano' at the back left. Back right has a door and mirrors with an odd comfy looking large chair with small side table. A young girl sits at the grand piano, music sheets setup, red hair in a bun, a light sundress on and black leather shoes rocking back and forth under her seat.
A tall lady in a blue ball gown has her back to me, blonde hair in ringlets and bows. She's tapping her fingers on top of the piano as the child plays a tune. Just a light melody, repeating gently. Gerald coughs loudly and she turns to us. The ringlets run down the side of her face. The lines near her eyes disappear as her face lights up, smiling. She has perfect teeth, an inviting smile on her wide mouth. Red lipstick covers her lips, lips that lead up to her sharp nose and wide thin eyes. Blonde eyebrows mean she's either natural or dyes it all. I'd place her mid to late twenties, which makes her an old maid for noble woman, as no rings adorn her fingers. The ball gown is all puff and ruffles, even following her plunging neckline, bare of jewellery. Her breasts pressed down by the gown give me the impression she has more than a handful there.
An air of confidence surrounds her as she speaks. Her voice is clear, all sparkles and light.
"My Lord Ottoman! I see you bought the next student." She curtsies gracefully. Gerald bows deeply, sweeping his arm.
"My Lady Marylou, the deepest pleasure as always." He stands, hand gesturing to me. "Your pupil for this afternoon, Shielder Walsh. Please do be gentle and don’t break him too much.”