Amanda Applewood and the Return of the False King: An Everworld Book

by Raymond Williamson

  The tail gate opened and bright sunlight filled the dim container. Amanda squinted to make out the dark shape in the

  entrance.

  “Good. You’re awake.” He set a tin cup on the floor by her cage and tossed her a heel of bread.

  “Let me go. You can’t do this. I’m the niece of the Queen.”

  “Ha, more likely you’re a runaway from Lord Garamode’s kitchens.”

  “Where are you taking us?” she demanded.

  “Those three are headed to Halla. G’blinken are the best miners anywhere and I’ve got a contract to deliver as many as I can to the silver mines there.”

  “OMG, that’s human trafficking!”

  “Don’t let them fool you. They’re not human, they’re g’blinken.”

  “But it’s not right!” shouted Amanda. The sound of her own voice made her head throb even more.

  “What’s right got to do with it?” replied the bard.

  “What about me?” she said a little more meekly.

  “You’re staying with me until I return you to his Lordship’s household. I’ll likely get a fat reward and some degree of forgiveness. With any luck, I’ll be permitted to perform for the houses along the coast again. Oh, to end this meagre existence at the edge of civilization.”

  He reached through the bars and nervously stroked her shoe with his calloused blue hand. “But until then, it’ll be nice to have a servant again. Promise you won’t run away and you won’t have to stay in here.”

  He leaned in close to the bars, looking at her hopefully, his face almost touching the cold iron.

  “Never!” shouted Amanda and she lashed out with her other foot. Her floral print converse slipped through the bars and caught him square in the face.

  “That’ll cost you, you little wench!” He screamed; blood pouring from his nose.

  As he left, he slammed the caravan’s door but not before pausing briefly to scowl at her.

  As the full impact of her predicament tumbled down on her harder than the news of her grandparent’s deaths. Unable to control her despair any longer, Amanda started to bawl.

  Diversion

  The sun was high in the sky when Everett and Trevor emerged from the woods. Everett wiped the back of his hand across his brow. He looked out across the hilly blue green lands that spread out before him towards the mountains in the distance.

  “Which way?” he asked.

  “There,” gestured the wolf with a nod of his head.

  Not wanting to miss a clue the wolf moved slowly over the trail. “It should be easy enough to find them, g’nolls give off a distinctive scent.”

  Everett sat silently on the wolf’s back, letting Trevor do all the work. It was easy to trust him; they had history. Everett thought about his sister, how he’d let her down. How he’d let the girls down. It was so much easier to on you own, to be alone, no one he needed to be mindful of, he could chart his own course.

  “Was that his problem?” he wondered. “Always a solo act, never a team player.”

  “Trevor?” he asked.

  “I know that tone. Something on your mind?” replied the wolf.

  “What do you mean? You know that tone.”

  “When you have something on your mind, you have a definite tone.”

  “I do not.” declared Everett.

  “Okay then. Do you have something on your mind?” enquired the wolf.

  “Yes, but…”

  “I rest my case.” he chuckled. “What’s is it?’

  Everett huffed. He’d sort that out later he decided. “Am I a good team player?”

  “That’s an interesting question, isn’t it?”

  “What do you mean interesting? It’s a yes or no question. Am I or am I not a good team player?” Everett said indignantly.

  “Let’s just say that you have the best interest of whatever team you’re on in mind and leave it at that.”

  “Leave it at that? You’ve can’t lob a comment like that at someone and then end it with leave it at that and not get a reaction. What’s that supposed to mean? Geeze.”

  Trevor sighed. “Are you sure you want my opinion?” he asked.

  “Really? You have to ask?’ snapped Everett.

  “You’re not going to let this go. Are you?” he took Everett’s silence as affirmation. “This might sting your ego,” he warned.

  “Oh, so you’re saying that I’m not a team player. Is that where this is going?”

  “Let’s just say that I heard your father and mother comment more than once that they wished you weren’t the best player on your hockey team.”

  “What? What else did they say when you guys were talking about me behind my back!”

  “If you must know. They thought it would have been good if you’d learned to trust your team mates and share the puck a little more. That if there had been someone better than you, you would have known what it was like to better team mate.”

  Everett thought back to an argument with his father about the last hockey game of his career. Papa had suggested that he shouldn’t be so hard on himself for not having been able to carry his team to victory that last game. If he wanted to be disappointed, it should be for not trusting his teammates to rise to the occasion. At least then, Papa said, “Even had they lost, it would have been a shared loss.” The comment angered Everett so much that he never played again. It was something he regretted; that and that the two of them were never able to fully reconcile.

  “So, what about now?” asked Everett, more meekly.

  “You haven’t changed. Ask your wife.”

  Before Everett could say any more Trevor spoke.

  “We have a problem.” he said gravely.

  “What?”

  “I’ve lost the trail.”

  “How could you lose the trail? You just said that g’nolls had a distinctive scent.”

  “Those damn bushes.” he said gesturing to the red plants that ran all along the hillside. “It’s all I can smell. If the g’noll was trying to hide his trail he couldn’t have picked a better place to change direction.”

  “Let’s try up here.” Everett pointed and Trevor clamored up to the top of the rise. Spreading out before them was a meadow at least a league across that ended at a tall stand of elephant grass in the distance. The shrill caw of a dragonette, followed by others made them look around. Suddenly, they heard the flurry of wings as a murder of dragonettes burst upwards from the branches of a leafless tree that the stood like a watch tower in the middle of the plain.

  “No way they crossed here,” said Trevor.

  “The road, then?”

  “Must be. If they’d gone up the hill, we’d have seen their passage through the bushes or across the field. The road. They’ll have had to headed to the road. We’ll pick up their trail along the way.”

  Every step along the way to the road where they didn’t find the trail increased their anxiety. When they finally reached the highway with not a single clue Trevor was near despondent. Everett, in desperation consulted the Grim.

  “I didn’t know it could do that?” asked Trevor.

  “It doesn’t, omniscience isn’t one of the gifts. I thought it was worth a try.”

  “If they’re headed for the mountains there’s only one or two places where they can ford the Munn River. This time of year, they’ll have to cross over by bridge. I know which one.” said Everett. “We’ll ride hard and pick up the trail there.”

  “And if…,” he stopped when he saw the look in Everette’s eyes.

  They hadn’t gone far when they spied an unusual sight a caravan of k’bolts marching down the center of the highway.

  Their leader, an aged creature named Myxpyklk, was an ostentatious little brute all dressed in bright purple robes that he wore over top of a polished, bronze breast plate. On his head perched the ugliest begemmed helm that Everett had ever scene. K’bolts were notoriously insecure and paraded what they thought others would see as wealth. The result was just plain gari
sh.

  “Hail,” snarled Myxpyklk. His language consisted of barks and yips.

  “Hail,” replied Everett. “Where are you headed and where from you came?” he replied in the series of barks and grunts of the k’bolt tongue.

  “We come from the plain and travel to see the Queen.” he meant the desert lands on the other side mountains and to see the Queen translated to paying their tribute.

  Everett nodded. The idea of paying tribute was repugnant so the k’bolts referred to it as a gift. Tribute, usually opals, that would explain the troop of guards. It was early in the year to be delivering tribute, thought Everett.

  “You’re early,” remarked Everett. “The Queen will be pleased that you’ve come to call in person.”

  “Surprised, more likely,” barked the k’bolt.

  Everett nodded. He pointed repeatedly at Myxpyklk who eventually understood. The k’bolt rose awkwardly and dragged an iron bound chest out from under his seat. Using an opal encrusted key from around his neck he unlocked the heavy padlock and heaved open the lid. In it were several small sacks nestled on top of a sea of silver and bronze colored coins. Carefully, he poured out the contents from one of the sacks for Everett to see. Rainbows of light glistened in his palm under the bright sunlight.

  Satisfied, Everett continued. “There was an incident,” barked Everett. “Some of the Queen’s soldiers were ambushed by g’blinken.”

  “I hadn’t heard,” replied the k’bolt. “But I’m sure the news will spread.”

  “Any reason why you think they might want to attack?”

  “Who knows the minds of the green ones, always the first to be offended, always the first to raise a sword, always the first to flee.” his laugh, a hideous bark.

  “You are seeking them?” continued Myxpyklk.

  Everett shook his head.

  “No. We are seeking a g’noll and a girl. They may have passed this way.”

  Myxpyklk shook his head to indicate that he hadn’t seen them. He then hissed and barked at a largish k’bolt stationed on his left. It was riding one of the k’bolts trained lizards - a feathered sharp-clawed biped that resembled an ostrich in stature but it had a single horn atop its head and rows of tiny sharp teeth.

  The k’bolt shook its head and then after successive exchanges with Myxpyklk it trotted back along the line barking and hissing as it passed. It finally reached the last three guards who were bringing up the rear. They hissed and barked at each other excitedly for several moments before the mounted k’bolt returned at a trot.

  “Nothing,” replied the mounted k’bolt. “Only a wagon heading away. Any others we passed were travelling towards the capital as are we.” The spitting, hissing and barking left a lot to the translation, but Everett understood.

  “Is there a reward?” barked Myxpyklk.

  “Your life if I find you’ve lied to me,” snarled Everett.

  Myxpyklk raised his hands in submission and shied away.

  “Easy boss,” said Trevor. “If she’s here, I’ll smell her as we pass.”

  “Hail,” barked Everett.

  “Hail,” barked Myxpyklk and they each continued in the direction they were headed.

  It was hours later when they saw the bard and his wagon parked off of the road in a small clearing. The horse was munching grass and the bard was lounging at a table and chair sipping from a pewter mug. Everett and Trevor approached from the road and waited patiently until the Bard gestured with his hat.

  “Your Eminence,” he said politely.

  “Your Honor,” replied Everett acknowledging the bard with whom he’d become acquainted during his many visits to Hightower Castle. Something simpering about Merrick had always bothered him. But the simpering of men before the Queen was common enough so, he let it pass.

  “Where are you headed?” asked Everett.

  “Nowhere in particular, but eventually I’ll make my way to the coast,” replied Merrick. “The winters there are more bearable.” he poured out a drink for Everett and set it out before him.

  Everett nodded.

  “You’re a long way from the Capital. Is there trouble afoot, Milord?” asked Merrick.

  “Some of the Queen’s men were ambushed by g’blinken,” he replied.

  Merrick said nothing for a moment. “I’ve not seen g’blinken in any numbers,” he said. “Are you seeking them?”

  “The Queen will deal with them. We’re looking for someone. A girl with pink skin and her pet,” said Everett.

  “A runaway, no doubt,” replied the Bard.

  “That’s none of your concern,” said Everett firmly.

  “I see,” said the Bard. “I’ll pick them up if I see them,” he suggested.

  “That would be kind of you,” said Everett.

  He finished his drink and thanked Merrick for his hospitality then he and Trevor sped off down the road.

  Lightning

  The box was hot as it rolled along the road. The smell of her companions combined with acrid aroma of urine reminded her of a dirty zoo she’d protested against with her mother some summers before. As she lay in her cage sweating, she worried whether the magic had abandoned her or if it was, as Ribesal said, something that would pass.

  The sun through the skylight projected a white square on the wall that was her only indication of the passing of time. When it reached the midway point of its journey it revealed Percy’s leather bag hanging from a peg, gently swaying back and forth with the rocking motion of the cart.

  She tried to recall what was in the bag: “her tablet- not much use - the ears of pumcorn, Percy’s flask and utensils, and …a knife. It wasn’t much more than a camp knife…if she could reach it, if it was still even there.”

  She stretched through the bars until her shoulder hurt but, it was out of reach. The cart bounced; the cage leapt.

  “It’s not secured. Of course not, why would it be,” she thought. “Zookeepers didn’t release the animals from one cage to another, they just moved the cages.”

  Quickly she spun around and placed her feet on the bulkhead wall opposite the driver’s bench. She pushed with all the strength in her weakened legs but the cage was heavy and barely budged. Through luck or persistence or maybe a bit of both she happened to be pressing against the wall when the wagon hit a bump. Her cell lurched forward and landed with a heavy THUD; bruising her backside.

  She pressed hard against the wall, maintaining constant pressure, waiting for the cart to bounce over a pothole or a rut in the road. Inch-by-inch she moved the cell each time the cart

  lurched, bruising another part of her with each bounce.

  “God, I wish I had some meat on me,” she whispered to Ribesal after a particularly violent bump. Gradually though, she managed to move the cage across the floor until her feet could no longer reach the wall she was pushing against.

  She reached out for the bag. Sadly, it was just beyond her grasp. Disappointed in her failure, she collapsed into an exhausted sweaty lump.

  Suddenly, there was a bump and she felt her cell move. She looked over, she saw that Ribesal had extended his hands through his bars and he’d managed to nudge her a little closer. Working together and after a series of tiny bumps and a few pinched fingers, with the g’blinken’s help they managed to get the cage close enough for Amanda to retrieve the bag. It fell with a loud clunk that Amanda was certain could be heard back on the farm. After an initial moment of panic, she realized that the cart was still moving.

  She pulled the bag into her cell and rummaged through it. After dumping the contents out on the bottom of her cage she found what she was looking for. Using the tip of the knife she worked the primitive lock that held her cage closed. Within moments, there was an audible click and the cage door opened.

  “That’s an impressive skill you have there,” said Ribesal. “Are you sure you’re not some sort of thief?”

  “No, I’m always losing the key to my bike lock so I have a lot of practice.” she replied.

  Wit
hout warning, the wagon lurched off the road and came to a violent halt, throwing Amanda hard against the bars. Through the thin walls of the wagon she could hear Merrick shouting. The shouts were loud at first but became quieter and quieter as though he was moving away from them. After several long moments of silence, she could hear through the door the sound of the metal latches being released.

  Amanda scrambled out of the cage with the knife in her hand determined to defend herself if needed.

  As the door opened, knife ready, she prepared to strike first.

  “Is me!” grunted Igoss sharply at the sight of the armed girl.

  “You came back,” she said.

  “Quickly! We go.” said the g’noll.

  “We can’t leave them,” she said, referring to the other prisoners.

  “No time, quickly,” he pleaded pulling at her hand.

  “No. I won’t leave them.”

  He sighed. “Quickly. I watch.”

  She turned to work the locks she had just gotten Ribesal’s cage open when she heard Igoss cry out. She turned to see the bard with a bloody scratch down the side of his face and murder in his eyes.

  He’d managed to wrestle Igoss into submission and had him pinned beneath his boot.

  “Step away from the merchandise and come out here girlie.”

  “Merchandise? That’s disgusting,” she said.

  With surprising speed, he lunged and grabbed Amanda by the arm pulling her out of the carriage, his strong fingers digging into her biceps. “Let’s go!”

  She landed roughly and her knife flew from her hands and landed silently in the grass. She used her momentum to pull away and before the man could react, she kicked up hard. The toe of her sneaker catching him squarely in his manhood. “Ooof!” he grunted.

  Igoss scrambled free.

  “Behind me!” shouted Amanda.

  Instead the little creature attacked the man with a fury digging his sharp teeth into Merrick’s leg. Merrick screamed in rage.

  From nowhere, a knife appeared in the bard’s hand and glinted in the dappled sunlight that filtered through the leaves of the overhead branches. He lashed down across Igoss who collapsed in a heap. Merrick turned to Amanda slowly. He had madness in his eyes.