by J. S. Volpe
* * *
After a quick fuck in the bushes on the west side of the Millisin, Gaspard and Merizen had slunk westward through the forests of Umperskap. Now they had come to the end of the forest and gazed out upon a lush grassy plain that stretched away into the darkness. The lights of a village shone half a mile to the west.
“Well?” asked Merizen. “What now?”
“There’s a lot of open space here,” Gaspard said. “I’d been hoping the forest extended all the way to the western border, but apparently not.” He shrugged. “Ah, well. I guess we must make do with what there is. Come on.”
They exited the trees and looked around. No one was in sight. So far, so good.
They had taken ten paces into the field when the bushes rustled fifty feet to their right and a trio of gorgim strode out of the woods. All three wore the brown sashes that bespoke membership in Umperskap’s army. One of them, a tall, burly, almost human-looking gorgim with a black, bristly beard that stuck out like the feathers of a wet crow and eyes consisting of white circles on a jet-black background, wore a black badge with an orange star on it that identified him as a general in Umperskap’s army. When the three gorgim saw Gaspard and Merizen they stopped and gaped in astonishment.
“Oh, dear,” Gaspard said quietly without moving his lips. Then he smiled his best smile and strode forward as if he had every right in the world to be there. Merizen followed, likewise smiling.
The gorgim watched them approach in silence. The General’s hand settled on the hilt of the sword hanging on his belt. When Gaspard extended his hand, the General’s grip tightened. He made no move to shake the proffered hand.
The General frowned and opened his mouth to say something—no doubt something along the lines of “You vile humans are not authorized to be here, so we will now cut you into tiny pieces!”—but before he could speak, Gaspard said, as quickly as he could while still sounding both friendly and intelligible, “Greetings, General. I am sorry to have to meet you under such unpleasant circumstances, but King Arbuthort of Glí has sent me on a mission of the utmost importance.”
The General, who had shut his mouth, now opened it again to interject something, but Gaspard hurried on.
“You see, the king has learned that several groups of humans have illegally entered your realm, possibly to instigate terroristic activities. The king, naturally eager to prevent an inter-realm incident, has sent my associate and me to warn you and aid you in stopping these terrorists in whatever way we can.”
The General opened his mouth again, but this time shut it of his own accord after a brief pause. He glanced at the gorgim to his right—a humanoid male whose body was coated with oozing purple slime—then at the gorgim to his left—a three-foot-tall female with a hunched back, albino eyes, long hair as wispy and white as cobwebs, and bare, clawed feet that resembled those of a shaved dog. Both gorgim looked even more nonplused than he was. He fixed his gaze once more on Gaspard and Merizen.
“This is highly irregular,” he said. “You do know, of course, that we are under orders to kill human trespassers on sight.”
“But we’re not trespassers!” Merizen said with a perfect imitation of shocked innocence. “The king sent us to help you!
“I will require proof of your assertions, of course,” growled the General. “Do you have any such proof?”
“Well, no,” Gaspard said. “We only just found out about the terrorist plot tonight—the very night they plan to strike! There was no time to waste assembling proofs and chains of evidence. We had to act immediately. We shouldn’t even be wasting time talking about it. We should be looking for the terrorists.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” the General grumbled, trying to sound as if he were on top of the situation. But uncertainty trembled at the edges of his voice.
“General, erm…I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name.”
“Blood,” the General said. “General Blood. [4] In charge of Umperskap’s Twentieth Division.”
“Of course. Surely, General Blood, you must see that we are here only to help you and—”
“What I see is a pair of humans slinking about where they have no right to be.”
“Please, General, use your head. Why would a pair of humans be wandering around Umperskap in the middle of the night? And, really, do you think anyone would make up a story like this?”
The General regarded them dubiously as he stroked his beard.
“I don’t trust them, General,” said the slimy gorgim. “I think they’re trying to trick us.”
“As do I,” said the short, hunchbacked gorgim. “Something isn’t right here.”
General Blood said nothing. He just continued staring at Gaspard and Merizen hard enough for them to start sweating.