Travels With a Fairytale Monster

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Travels With a Fairytale Monster Page 9

by Elizabeth Gannon


  She shrugged. “I don’t know. A lot.”

  “Like… so many that you’re not yet of the age of human maturity?”

  She snorted. “No, not that many.” She shook her head. “I’m way past that, sadly.”

  “Ah.” He nodded, looking almost relieved for some reason. “Good.” He frowned. “Where was I?”

  She added a notation to her notes about color options. “The game is being chased away by bands of evil killer human invaders.” She reminded him casually.

  “Oh, yes.” He cleared his throat. “Finally, the ogres had no choice but to retreat to their most sacred site, high in the mountains. And for a generation, they lived there in peaceful isolation. But the humans’ greed was not so easily sated and their tricks were many.” He paused. “…which, again, doesn’t include you.”

  “I’m not offended.” She shrugged. “Humans suck. We all know it.”

  “They wanted the ogres completely destroyed.” He continued. “Try as they might though, they could not find their way through the canyons and rocks. It was an ogre traitor named ‘Stallo,’” Dom spit on the ground, as if cursing the name, “who led the humans through the pass and into our hidden lands.” He stared into the fire. “They butchered everyone. I was so young that I barely remember it, but my grandmother was somehow able to escape the carnage with me. And for a time, we found a new tiny valley in which to live. And she taught me about the world and how to be a man. And we were happy.” His voice became hollow, as if a million miles away. “But the humans couldn’t let us be, and one day, they finally caught up with us again.”

  “And they sold you both to the Baselanders?”

  “No. She was too aged.” He shook his head. “So, they skinned her alive in front of me and sold her skin to a tannery.”

  “Holy gods!” She tried not to be sick. “Really?”

  He nodded. “After that, I bounced from kingdom to kingdom, torture to torture.” He shrugged. “And that brings us to yesterday.”

  She tried to think of something to say to that, but was still too horrified over the story to put anything into words. If she opened her mouth to speak, it’d just come out as tears and curses over the unfairness of it all.

  He glanced over at her after another moment, his brow compressing in thought. “If you are attempting to think up something you can say to make all that better, there’s really no need, Tay-Lore.” He assured her. “I am fine. I survived for a reason and I understand it now. I am at peace.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She finally croaked out.

  He nodded. “I know. But it was not your doing and I do not blame you in the slightest. I only brought it up because you specifically asked me and I didn’t want you to think I was keeping anything from you.”

  “We’ll fix this.” She blurted out. “Don’t worry.”

  “Of course.” He nodded in agreement, then paused. “How, exactly?” He asked, sounding genuinely interested in whatever it was she was planning.

  “All we need to do is get you to the king.” She decided. “You tell him the story you just told me and he’ll have to pardon you and give you your lands back!”

  “And you intend to inform him of this before or after you are tried for desertion and being an accessory to the murder of your commander?”

  “Before.” She answered simply. “I’m good at stuff like this. I always have been. Trust me, I can get you your lands back. All we have to do is beat Buggane to the capital. We get there first and we can warn the king about what a little troll he is…”

  “He’s a troll?” Dom sounded vaguely impressed. “I didn’t notice. I’ve known several trolls and they…”

  “No, he’s human. Well, biologically, anyway.” She interrupted. “It’s just something people say.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Humans are very strange creatures.” He decided. “Although, again, I don’t mean you. You’re strange too, but in a fascinating way rather than a disgusting one.”

  “Umm… sure. Okay.” She cleared her throat. “In any case, if we’re the first ones to the capital then we can tell the king the truth before Buggane has a chance to charm him.”

  “People find the Buggen… charming?” Dom asked, his tone in-between grotesque fascination and horror.

  “Just the stupid ones.”

  “So… not you?” He sounded like he was asking for confirmation.

  “Gods, no.” She made a face. “I’ve always found him disgusting.”

  That seemed to make him happy. “As I said, you are a very clever human woman, Tay-Lore. Not at all in keeping with the general stupidity of your people.” He shook his head seriously. “Do not go near him.” His voice took on a hard edge. “I will deal with the Buggen.”

  “I think once the king hears what he’s done, the king will deal with him.” She assured him. “It’ll all work out. All we have to do is juggle our enemies and problems and play them off one another. Buggane and his men take care of the Baselanders for a little while we travel to the capital, the king takes care of Buggane and then we convince the king to see reason and give you your land.” She nodded. “I got this, don’t worry. It’s kinda my thing.”

  “Undoubtedly.” Dom turned the spit, roasting the other side of the rabbit he caught.

  Granted, Taylor had no real personal experience with the ruler of their land. She’d never so much as even seen him. He had only actually been in charge of the country for ten years, the cousin of their former ruler, who had died without an heir.

  The Feast of Burning Kings had seen to that.

  Ten years before, the king and queen of Eloqudelle, one of the kingdoms to the east, had held a grand feast to celebrate the birth of their first son. And since Eloqudelle was a very wealthy country, the royals, rulers and VIPs of almost every kingdom made the journey to pay their respects to the heir. Kings and tycoons, princesses and prime ministers, all packed the central cathedral, eager to meet the boy who would undoubtedly grow up to be one of the most powerful men in the world. The subjects of Eloqudelle were so eager for even a glimpse of their future king and to see the elaborate decorations which filled the space, that guards were posted at the entrance and the side doors were chained to keep out the crowd.

  The queen of Eloqudelle had been obsessed with flowers. She fanatically collected them. And since the feast was to celebrate her first born, she had millions of blossoms from all over the world shipped in. Every possible shape and color flower and bloom you could imagine filled that room.

  As it had turned out however, although beautiful beyond compare, the decorations of dried flowers and gold leafed papier-mâché statues, had been attached to the stone walls and wooden ceiling with resin and paraffin wax. This, combined with the fact that the building was absolutely packed beyond capacity and its wooden floors and furniture were lined with thousands of yards of silk and linen, meant that the partygoers got more than they bargained for that day.

  No one really knew what happened.

  Some said a stray spark from one of the celebratory candles started the blaze. Some reports had it that the queen had arrived at the feast wearing a dress covered with hundreds of tiny candles and faceted crystals designed to sparkle in the light, but that something had gone wrong with the garment, causing her to run through the building, trying to extinguish her burning gown, and succeeding only in spreading the flames.

  Many kingdoms blamed their ancestral rivals and insisted that they had been the ones to light it. Some blamed demonic spirits. Some claimed the judgement of the Gods had struck down the wicked. Some said it was just bad fucking luck.

  However it started though, once that first flame erupted, it was too late for everyone inside. The fire raced through the old building and almost instantly turned it into an inferno, raining flaming paraffin wax and smoldering exotic flowers down onto the attendees and igniting the building’s linen covered wooden floor. The guests were encumbered by their ceremonial clo
thes, tripping and crawling down the packed smoke-filled stairs to the entrance of the cathedral. They clambered over the dead and the dying, trampling their fellow aristocrats in a mad desperate scramble for the exit.

  But there was no escaping the flames.

  The doors at the bottom of the stairs opened inward, which meant that the force of the people surging forward ensured that the doors could not be opened. The people in front were crushed to death in the mayhem, asphyxiated against the door which would have allowed them all to escape, if the people behind them had stopped pushing and allowed it to be opened. By the time someone outside thought to unlock the side doors of the building, it was already far too late for everyone inside.

  Entire royal families were burned alive in moments, their screams and anguished cries heard by the thousands of well-wishers outside the cathedral. Once the fire was finally extinguished, their twisted ashen remains were found piled together in the stairway, forming a solid wall in front of the exit and scattered around the interior in great smoldering heaps.

  903 people died.

  The kingdoms which were either too unimportant or too evil to receive an invite had escaped the tragedy however, and they immediately saw the benefits which they could reap. Vast portions of the world were now leaderless and stricken with grief. Formerly powerful kingdoms were weakened and were now vulnerable to an invading army or the right kind of convincing propaganda designed to show them who the real culprit was. Some simply collapsed into anarchy or rebellion, their economies now ruined due to their financiers, businessmen, and ruling class being wiped out.

  Baseland and the Southern Isles had rushed to take advantage of the situation, striking out against their neighbors and seizing their lands. Several other kingdoms took notice of their successes and were either terrified or emboldened into making moves of their own. Alliances were formed. Lines were drawn. Sides were taken.

  The War of Gold and Silver was on.

  And like the fire, once it started, there was no stopping it.

  The Feast of Burning Kings had killed a good portion of the world’s aristocracy and royalty. And the War of Gold and Silver was taking care of the survivors and vast percentages of the commoners.

  Soon, there would be no one left.

  But that didn’t mean the new king of Cormoran wouldn’t pardon Dom. In fact, if anything, perhaps his own family’s tragedies would convince him of how much Dom needed his assistance.

  Taylor was fairly certain she could convince him of that, anyway. She was fairly good at getting people to do what she wanted them to do. It was simply a matter of getting into their minds and understanding them.

  Dom seemed far less optimistic about the venture however. “And how exactly do you plan on reaching the capital before the other two armies which are currently racing towards it?”

  “I’m going to do something so crazy that no one would ever expect it!” She exclaimed, watching the meat roast and getting even hungrier.

  A crooked smile appeared on his pleasingly rough face, looking almost out of place on his stern features. “Tay-Lore, if one horrifying sentence could entirely sum up a person, that one would encapsulate you quite well.”

  She ignored his negativity. “The Baselanders are taking the south road, right? Which will take them around the mountains. And Buggane is following the river road, which will take his men north of the mountains until it meets up with the south road at the Crossroads.” She smiled in appreciation of her own genius plan. “But we are going straight through the mountains!”

  “Mountain most holy!” Dom spat out, in what must have been some kind of ogre curse. “That’s insanity, girl!” He shook his head. “No one goes into the Felony Forest! Even I know that!” He pointed at her. “And I refuse to let you kill yourself because you have some strange notion that your human king is going to somehow magically grant me my every wish. I’m sorry, but it’s not going to happen.”

  “It’s not just about you.” She admitted after a moment. “I… I need this too, Dom. Okay? This kingdom…” She gestured to their surroundings. “This kingdom is my home. It’s everything I’ve ever loved. Everyone I’ve ever loved except Ryle is buried here. And as long as I’m still breathing, I’m not going to let someone like the Baselanders or Buggane ruin it.” She swallowed, trying not to cry in frustration and fatigue. “I’m just not.” She cleared her throat. “So, I’m going through the mountains by way of the Felony Forest, whether you come along or not. And then I’m going to tell your story to the king. And then I’m going to stop Buggane and make sure he faces justice. And then I’m going to stop the Baseland army and return peace to my kingdom.” She firmed her jaw. “Or I’m going to die trying.”

  He watched her for a moment, then took the rabbit off the fire and carefully removed a leg to hand to her. “As I said: a hell of a woman.”

  Chapter Seven

  “One more time.” Ryle promised. “One more time, and I swear this time I’ll get it.”

  Taylor sighed in irritation, sick of explaining this. “This is Dom.” She pointed at her giant. “We are going to take him to see the king, so that the king will free him.”

  “But he looks pretty damned free right now, Tay.” Ryle interjected. “Except for the chains, that is.”

  Dom nodded. “The Brother is correct, Tay-Lore.”

  She made a face. “There’s a difference between feeling free and being free.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “He needs legal protections. And his mountain back.”

  Ryle blinked at her in confusion for several moments, then turned to look at Dom.

  “I need legal protections, Brother of Tay-Lore.” Dom confirmed, as he’d been instructed. “Otherwise, I’m just…” He trailed off. “Umm…”

  “Hiding!” She shook her head vehemently, finishing the thought for him since he’d obviously forgotten his life’s goal. “We require a formal pardon, an apology, and reparations!”

  “What exactly are you going to give him in the way of a cash settlement?” Ryle looked up at Dom. “What’s your entire world worth, big guy?”

  The giant seemed to consider that. “Three sapphires?” He guessed, obviously lowballing. “Wait, what do you people use for currency?” He snapped his fingers as if thinking of something he’d forgotten. “Sheep.” He nodded to himself, obviously pleased that he’d remembered that tidbit about her culture. “I demand at least three of your tiny human sheep for the annihilation of my race.”

  Ryle looked back at her. “Sheep.” He repeated. “Hell, I can get the man sheep if the man wants sheep! And I don’t have to go traipsing through the entire kingdom to do it!”

  “It’s not about the sheep!” She looked up at Dom. “Incidentally, you’re asking for way more than three stupid sheep for what’s been done to you.”

  “What… like a goat too?” Dom tried hesitantly. “Too much? I’m unfamiliar with your backwards system of exchange.”

  She ignored that, remaining focused on her brother. “This is about justice!”

  “But he doesn’t even want it!” Ryle argued, pointing at Dom. “The man is fine! Look at him!”

  She looked up at Dom again and met his gorgeous eyes, getting lost in their mysterious depths...

  Her brother made an annoyed sound and spread his arms in a frantic slashing motion. “On second thought, don’t look at him, because it gets you too distracted.” He ran a hand through his hair. “All I’m saying is that there’s a good chance- a hell of a good chance- that trying to reach the capital is going to get us killed.” He began counting off points on his fingers. “We got the Baselanders trying to kill us and return my main man here back to the evil fold, we got Buggane after us because he hates you in that special way that makes him want to rape us all to death…”

  “Why would he want to rape me?” Dom asked, sounding both concerned and confused. “Is that part of your Honor Duel ritual here? Because I know that it evidently involves hitting oneself in the head with rocks, but I had no idea i
t also involved rape as well.” He shook his head. “Because had I known of this, I wouldn’t have challenged him so quickly.” He looked appalled, his voice sad. “I really don’t look forward to raping the Buggen.” He sighed with anticipatory regret, looking ill. “I will need to be very drunk.” He turned to look at her. “Would it be too dishonorable to simply bludgeon him to death instead?” He asked hopefully. “Could we not all simply agree to tell people that I completed the ritual and restored our honor?”

  Ryle ignored the giant. “And last, but certainly not least, now we have to pick our way through the Felony Forest.” He held up a finger. “A forest, I might add, that none of us has ever been to and don’t know our way through, which is filled with murderers, rapists and an assortment of others engaging in its titular felonies, none of whom we know.” A new idea occurred to him. “Oh, and we somehow have to make it through this impenetrable and unexplored bandit filled woodland quickly enough to beat the other contingent of Baseland soldiers to the capital, or there won’t be a king left to free anyone!”

  She tapped her foot in irritation. “Are you done?”

  Dom pursed his beautiful lips in thought. “The Brother is making a lot of sense. For a human.”

  “Thanks, man.” Ryle playfully punched his arm.

  “You are welcome, Rai-El.” He paused. “I would strike you in brotherhood, as is your apparent custom, but I am afraid that I would shatter your collarbone and drive it into your throat.” He paused again. “I could try it anyway, if such an action is required to seal our new trust relationship.” He offered seriously. “I don’t mind.”

  “Nope.” Ryle shook his head. “I’m fine. Like my collarbone right where it is, big guy.”

  Taylor beamed, utterly pleased with how well they were getting along already. “Now, if you’ll finally let me finish, I have a plan.”

  “You have a plan.” Ryle repeated, then looked up at her giant. “She’s got a plan, Dom.” He informed him casually.

  “And it is most urgently needed.” Dom said. “The Brother and I await your plan, Tay-Lore.”

 

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