A Quest for Chumps (Departed Dimensions Book 1)

Home > Other > A Quest for Chumps (Departed Dimensions Book 1) > Page 21
A Quest for Chumps (Departed Dimensions Book 1) Page 21

by G. M. Reinstra


  Upon their return to the Chasm, Rialta had initially expressed an interest in going on more quests while awaiting H’s next instructions, but it turned out that the gremlin’s crown— minus the emerald, which John had plucked from the crown and stowed in his bag for safe-keeping—was worth an incredible sum. After selling it and splitting the profits five ways, Remmy, Rialta, and John found themselves with enough funds to ensure they could live comfortably for the next several months, and Nivin and Lorenza were able to add to their already well-established nest egg. Nevertheless, Rialta found herself growing impatient and bored with each day that passed without any word from H. She was completely unaccustomed to this lifestyle of total leisure. She spent the majority of her days reading the books she had found in the little shop down the street from the Pampered Quail.

  One snowy evening, Rialta, Remmy, and John gathered in Rialta’s room with the sole objective of killing time.

  “I’m so bored I could die,” Rialta said, tossing her book into an ever-growing pile of novels she had given up on beside her bed. She flopped backward onto her pillows and stared up at the ceiling.

  “You want to join us?” Remmy said, flicking a peanut from the palm of his hand toward John, who tried to catch it in his mouth. They both missed by a wide margin. The peanut went zooming into Rialta’s lit fireplace with a faint ‘pop.’

  “Nah. Peanut flicking gets a bit monotonous after the three-hundredth round,” Rialta said.

  “But you’re so much better at it than I am,” Remmy lamented as he dug into a sack of peanuts next to his chair to reload.

  “I’m good at cooking as well, but you don’t see me running down to help Amy in the kitchens in my free time.”

  “What do you suggest we do then?” John said. He leapt to his left and chomped down just in time to catch the next peanut.

  “Another quest,” Rialta said hopefully as she sat up.

  “We’ve been over this a million times, Rialta,” John said. “To what end, exactly? We have all the money we need. Why expose ourselves to unnecessary danger if we don’t have to?”

  The next peanut struck John’s cheek, but he wasn’t paying attention to Remmy at this point.

  Rialta smirked at John. “To what end indeed! Are you the same guy who led the charge into a pack of sheepstalkers on the very first day we met?”

  Remmy fired off several more peanuts, all of which bounced off John’s chest and began to form a little pile on the floor.

  John laughed derisively. “Are you the same girl who was cowering like a blind pup just before that battle started?”

  Rialta shrugged. “I guess I’m not,” she said as she absentmindedly swatted away a peanut flying toward her face. Remmy had apparently grown bored of his previous target.

  “Well if you haven’t put it together, that situation was completely different,” John said. “That was a battle of necessity. We don’t need to put ourselves at risk unless it’s a task ordered by H.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Rialta said. She sighed and began to dig through a paper bag full of her new book purchases.

  “I’ll be back in a bit. We’re running out of peanuts,” Remmy said.

  “I’ll go with you,” Rialta said, getting up from her bed and throwing on her cloak. “If I stay here another minute, I might just lose my mind.”

  “Do you want to come too, John?” Remmy asked.

  “Nah. I’m going head down to dinner early, I think.”

  “We’ll meet you there when we get back then,” Remmy said. He picked up his bag from the corner of the room, slung it over his shoulder, then made his way out the door.

  The three of them headed down the stairs and into the lobby, and John bade them farewell and headed into the dining room. Remmy and Rialta went outside to find that snow had begun to fall. Occasionally a brisk breeze gusted through the streets and sent bands of snow drifting and rippling across the ground. The lampposts had already been lit for the evening, and each of them cast a wide aura of bright, warm light throughout the town. Rialta hugged her cloak close to her, and she followed Remmy who was leading the way to a small general store at the end of the street. Their boots creaked against the fresh sheet of snow beneath their feet as they walked.

  Upon their return from the shop, however, the street was suddenly much more brightly lit than it had been just fifteen minutes ago. Remmy and Rialta watched in confusion while at least twenty soldiers, armed with torches and swords, marched straight past the general store. They appeared to be escorting a little carriage which was making its way through town.

  “What do you think that’s about?” Rialta asked.

  “No idea,” Remmy said with a frown. “Maybe it’s just a typical patrol?”

  “I’ve never seen a patrol that big, though,” Rialta said. She and Remmy quickened their pace and followed behind the soldiers.

  It immediately became clear that something was terribly wrong. A large crowd had gathered by the time they had approached the street corner adjacent to the Pampered Quail, and a chaotic series of screams and shouts rang out in the distance.

  “What’s going on?” Rialta asked, craning her neck to try to get a better look at whatever it was the crowd had gathered to see.

  “Nothing good,” Remmy said with a frown. “Come on!” With that, he shoved his way through the crowd, creating a path for Rialta to follow behind him. And just as they neared the front of the Pampered Quail, Rialta saw something that chilled her blood.

  The viceroy—her brother—resplendent in silver and purple robes, towered over the cowering form of Amy. Behind the viceroy was a small group of his soldiers, all standing with their shoulders squared directly toward the Pampered Quail. Amy was looking up at them all, her expression torn between hopelessness and terror.

  “Please!” she screamed. “Please, I beg you! This inn is all I have! I’ve worked my entire life for this!”

  “And yet you’ve squandered your livelihood by allowing filthy rebels to take up shelter here, have you not?” the viceroy drawled. He took a torch from one of his men.

  “Wha-what?” Amy said, her eyes following the torch as the viceroy approached.

  “My sources tell me that just weeks ago, you hosted guests who had the audacity to sing songs of rebellion and treason,” the viceroy said with a sneer. “Do not deny it. I know it is true.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Amy said, getting to her feet. She trembled as she did her best to make eye contact with the viceroy.

  “Insolent bitch!” the viceroy shouted, and he slapped Amy hard across the face. She fell hard to the ground with a yelp of pain. Instantly and automatically, Rialta felt a familiar rage coursing through her, but she had no idea what she could do at a time like this. Defying her brother and his men would only serve to get herself and her friends killed, but she had to do something to help Amy. Her head ached as she desperately tried to think of a plan of action.

  “Pick her up!” the viceroy shouted at his men. “She needs to watch me burn this filthy hovel to the ground.”

  “What are we going to do?” Rialta whispered.

  “Rialta, come here,” Remmy whispered, grabbing her by the arm.

  “What is it?” Rialta said.

  “I have a plan. It’s going to work, I promise, but you need to trust me,” and as he spoke, he looked directly into her eyes. Rialta hesitated, looking back at Amy.

  “Rialta, we don’t have much time!” Remmy hissed.

  Rialta nodded, then followed Remmy into a dark alley.

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  Moments later, the viceroy was instructing his men to place bales of hay around the perimeter of the Pampered Quail to ensure a quick, well-fueled blaze. Amy screamed in protest, but two of the viceroy’s men were holding her back, and nobody in the growing crowd of citizens dared to intervene.

  “Hold it right there!” Remmy shouted. The crowd parted around him as he made his way toward the viceroy.

  “Foolish boy,” the vicero
y said, scowling at Remmy. “Stand down and shut your mouth before I order your tongue cut from it.”

  “No! You listen to me, you stupid ass-face!”

  A nervous murmur passed through the crowd of people gathered around the inn.

  The viceroy’s eyes widened with recognition as he stared at Remmy, his face turning purple with rage. “It—it was you who defaced my portrait! Curse you, you wretched philistine! You defiler of the finest art! Men! Seize him at once! He is to be hanged for treason!”

  The soldiers immediately began to march toward Remmy, but as they approached, a ring of fire erupted around him. The soldiers halted, none of them foolish enough to cross through the flames.

  “You are to cease this illegal activity at once or suffer the king’s wrath!” Remmy shouted, and his eyes narrowed as he stared down the viceroy.

  “What in the world…” the viceroy began.

  “Presenting Her Highness! Remmy shouted, opening his tome with a flourish. He raised his free hand to the heavens, and a choir of ghostly voices sang as a brilliant, blue light emanated from where he stood. “Princess Rialta Meria, the all-powerful mage of fire!” Remmy said, and he fell to one knee.

  The flames around Remmy dissipated, and just then, Rialta emerged from the alley. She was dressed in the royal robes Remmy had stolen from the viceroy’s manor. Several people in the crowd gasped as they saw the magnificent garb, despite the fact that it was very wrinkled and musty after having spent weeks crammed into the depths of Remmy’s backpack.

  As Rialta walked toward Remmy, she noticed that John, Nivin, and Lorenza had joined the crowd of onlookers, and all of them looked completely bewildered. The murmurs of the crowd grew louder as she walked toward the viceroy.

  “Are you sure this is going to work?” she muttered to Remmy out of the corner of her mouth once she stood beside him.

  “Positive,” Remmy whispered back.

  “Right then, here goes nothing…”

  Rialta took a long, deep breath. “Edward Meria!” she shouted, her arm outstretched to her brother. “You have overstepped your bounds as the so-called viceroy of this colony. You have ignored the directives of our father, the king. For this, you shall be punished most severely.”

  A stunned silence fell over everyone present, and Edward stared daggers at Rialta.

  “You—you cannot be serious,” Edward said with a forced laugh. “I have never even heard of you, and you expect me to believe that you are a member of the royal family? My mother was—”

  “Your mother was the seventh queen of the ageless king, yes,” Rialta said dismissively. “And mine, the fourteenth. This is neither the time nor place to discuss the twisted branches of our family tree, my dear brother.”

  “And so even if you are royalty—a notion I highly doubt—naturally I outrank you, little sister,” Edward said through gritted teeth.

  “Hardly,” Rialta said with a gentle smile.

  “What?” Edward seethed.

  Rialta tilted her head to the side in mock confusion. “Dear brother, have you not shared our father’s final missive to you with the good people of Tyntala?”

  Edward did his best to retain his stately disposition, but his face went pale at Rialta’s words. “I… uh. I hardly know what you are talking about,” he said.

  “Then allow me to refresh your recollection,” Rialta said, and she withdrew the king’s letter from within the royal robes she was wearing. “It was quite fortuitous of you to hold on to this little keepsake for all these years.” She cleared her throat and began to read:

  To my former son, Edward,

  The generals have informed me of your disgraceful display at the Battle of the Hollow, and I will not forgive it. You have made me look a fool for the last time. You are hereby banished from Raorik forevermore. You are divested of your rank and title, and you shall be cast away to a Desolate Prospect to forever dwell upon the shame you have brought me.

  However, I will allow you to live in a pale imitation of the luxury you once enjoyed on Raorik. This is not because you deserve it, but in my hope that despite whatever miniscule comfort it brings you, it will forever be a reminder of your inability to earn what your former father had bestowed upon you.

  You are a disgrace to your name. May you forever rot in the abyss.

  “Seems he did not even bother to sign it. Just had his secretary stamp it,” Rialta said coolly, pointing to the wax seal on the back.

  At this, several people in the crowd began to shout:

  “Treason!”

  “He’s an imposter! After all these years, an imposter!”

  “Lo! A traitor in our midst!”

  “Hey, fuck you Edward, you fuckin’ douchebag!”

  “Enough of this!” Edward shouted. “I demand that every one of these miscreants be jailed!” he yelled, looking wildly about the increasingly angry mob.

  But they did not relent. Some even grew bold enough to pick rotten food, soiled clothes, and other discarded junk from the public trashcans in search of things to throw at the viceroy.

  “Silence!” Rialta shouted, willing a wreath of flames to explode around her with an equally resounding roar. The mob immediately went quiet, and everyone stood still. Even John stopped mid-way through throwing an old boot at the viceroy.

  “You see, Edward,” Rialta continued, “Father sent me here to check on you, to see what you had made of this place. It turns out he had misgivings about classifying this place as a Desolate Prospect. Upon further inspections of his records, he considered that perhaps this dimension might have some merit. Naturally, he wanted a loyal, deserving child to check up on you, brother, for he knew you had likely allowed this place to fall into ruin. And look how right he was,” she said, gesturing about the Chasm and looking down on Edward with a derisive smirk.

  “Lies!” Edward shouted. “She is the imposter!” he yelled at his men. “Seize her! Seize her at once!”

  “Foolish brother,” Rialta said, shaking her head. She lifted up the king’s letter, displaying the seal to the crowd. She then pulled down the left sleeve of her robes to reveal her bare shoulder, on which an identical seal had been etched into her skin. “Guardsmen, check him,” Rialta said to the soldiers. “He has an identical mark, I guarantee it.”

  “I got dibs,” John said, withdrawing one of his daggers from his belt as he approached Edward.

  “I’ll allow it,” Rialta said.

  “S-someone stop him!” Edward shouted, but none of his men made to intervene. John slashed at Edward’s robes with surgical precision, slicing away a patch of cloth just below his left shoulder without cutting Edward’s skin. Sure enough, the king’s seal was also etched just below the joint.

  “Does anyone among you dispute the proof I have provided?” Rialta demanded, and she pointed her wand at the crowd.

  Nobody responded.

  “Right then,” Rialta said, “as punishment for your insult, trespass, and assault on this woman, I hereby command that every last coin in your possession, and all your worldly wealth, shall be transferred to Amy of the Pampered Quail, to do with as she sees fit.”

  “But—but Your…” Edward’s face contorted with rage, and he spoke through gritted teeth, “… Your highness!”

  “Enough!” Rialta shouted, and with a flourish of her wand, she summoned a wild arc of twisting flames to surround her where she stood. “You have insulted our crown for the last time!” she said as she walked toward Edward and his men. A number of the soldiers stepped backward when she approached. “You are hereby banished from your estate, the deed to which shall be rendered unto…”

  Rialta meticulously searched the crowd, most of whom were now kneeling before her. “Uh… Craig… and… uh… Silby!” she shouted, calling out the names of the first two people she recognized from the crowd. “It shall be rendered unto Craig and Silby.”

  Silby let out a shriek of joy as she began doing a wild dance throughout the town square.

  “I’m supposed to
share a house with her?” Craig said. He eyed Silby with a grimace.

  “It’s a big house, Craig,” John said. “You’ll have plenty of room to yourself. I’m sure it’s a lot nicer than whatever pathetic shit-heap you’re living in now.”

  “I have a nice house, damn it!” Craig said, stomping his foot on the ground.

  “Oh for goodness sake, then sign over your half to Silby for all I care, you ungrateful whelp!” Rialta said, her fire still furiously coiling around her.

  “Er—yes, Your Majesty. I beg your pardon,” Craig said with a bow.

  “You’re damn right you do!” Rialta said. “Now, as for the title of viceroy…” she said. But her search through the crowd of the citizens of Tyntala was more deliberate this time.

  “Lorenza?” Rialta said when she finally found Lorenza’s face in the crowd.

  “…Me?” Lorenza said.

  “It’s yours if you want it,” Rialta said with a gentle smile.

  “I accept,” Lorenza said firmly.

  “There you have it,” Rialta said, turning to Edward’s men. “Each and every one of you is to obey her commands from this moment forth. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, your grace,” the soldiers responded in unison, their boots slamming into the ground as they stood at attention.

  “And as for the rest of you!” Rialta shouted, and she willed her flames to burst and crackle menacingly as she spoke. “Away with you! Back to your business! Maintain peace and civility throughout Tyntala! It is so ordered by the king!”

  The townsfolk rose to their feet and began to disperse. Rialta and Edward glared at each other as the streets grew quiet.

  “Go on then,” Rialta spat, pointing at Edward with her wand. Without a word, Edward removed his weighty wallet from his carriage and walked it over to Amy, who accepted it with a stunned, blank expression on her face.

  “You bunch,” Rialta said, nodding to the soldiers. “Take anything else of value from the carriage and give it to Amy.”

  Four soldiers approached the carriage and withdrew several large satchels from within, each of which they carried over to Amy and dropped at her feet.

 

‹ Prev