by Galen Wolf
In the Palace, the Autocrat had finally come out from behind the curtain and was sitting in the eating throne, cracking nuts. In the dining halls only very few of the aristocracy, military or merchants were present for dinner. Both Captain Vardo and George were out marshalling the defence of the walls. It was common knowledge that they had been marshalling the defence of the outer walls when they fell, so their presence did not encourage many people. Melissa herself was so excited that she could hardly prevent herself from speaking breathlessly and telling jokes. But she did not tell them in the presence of Axtos. Jokes would have upset the Autocrat as tomorrow he knew he would die a horrible death. No more, and possibly even less, than those he had meted out to others, but tyrants are always full of self pity when the day of doom arrives. Nothing could raise Axtos's spirits. He didn't even have anyone to torture as they were all out manning the walls.
Dawn came early and it was cold. It was not long before Jeremiah had the mouthmen and the crabmen manning, if that is an accurate word here, the guns. Zventibold had used the power of the Crystal to seek out weaknesses in the Palace walls. This tired him greatly. On the whole, he was not feeling well - all his screaming for blood had made him quite hoarse and he had not been getting nearly enough greens, only blood.
But soon the inevitable happened and the front wall of the Palace fell. After the rushing, roaring sound of the collapse, a great cry of victory went up from Zventibold's host. A great roar of dismay went up from the Hall of Eating, where Axtos and the remaining residents of the Palace had holed up for the night and were now eating breakfast.
Zventibold's beastmen could not be restrained and ran, hopped and slithered over the rubble into the hallways that still stood and then fanned out into the labyrinthine bowels of the Imperial Palace. The corridors of the Palace ran ankle deep in blood and Turgid slipped many a time collecting it in his magic thermos bottle, which he had recently invented. Into all the rooms they pushed their way, bringing sword, dismay, and pain and athletes foot. Athletes' food was endemic in Zventibold's army as none of the beastmen wore shoes and many a veteran complained of itching for years afterwards. Strangely, none of the dead ever complained of it, as death is a well known cure for athletes' foot.
As they ran, Zventibold followed - yelling "Leave Axtos for me!" using the Crystal of Radiance as a megaphone. And it was Zventibold who found Axtos, with his patrol of dogmen. He broke into the Eating Halls and there sat Axtos on his throne. The dogmen surrounded him, yapping and baring their teeth. Axtos was terrified. His guards had deserted him as had even his parasites which had crawled away to find some other fat bastard to infest. The only person who had remained with him was Melissa. And she too shook, but not with fear, but with love.
"Zventibold!" she shouted and ran towards him.
"Melissa!" he shouted back. He was enchanted by her once again. But his heart fell. "I know it's true about you and George. I saw it in the Crystal of Radiance."
"Forgive me Zventi," she broke down. Her tears flowed like the mighty Unterlink falls over the plateau into the jungles of Wamawama. "He told me you were dead! Forgive me, forgive me."
He went and held her in his arms. "Of course I will Melissa. I'd forgive you anything, you know that."
"I know," said Melissa, burying her head in his shoulder. She had to stoop a little, but love conquers all.
And then, Zventibold turned to the quivering Autocrat. "Now, Axtos III - revenge is mine - you evil man. You have committed terrible crimes against humanity. You killed Turvius Sullius, my father." Zventibold choked as he said this. He was filled with sorrow.
Axtos prepared his answer. "Turvius would have killed me, had I not stuck him like the pig he was. And as for my evilness, why it is said that you are known as Zventibold 'Blood Drinker'. You are as evil as me!" Axtos ended in an exultant whine, confident he had refuted Zventibold's argument.
"Pah!" said Zventibold and chopped his head off.
As Axtos's corpse lay bleeding, draining its life on the marble floor, Zventibold picked up an ornate goblet and asked politely of Melissa. "Blood, darling?"
It was at this point that Melissa began to suspect ill of Zventibold. But for now she passed it off as the madness of battle and as a gesture of love she accepted the goblet, now filled with Axtos's steaming blood. When he was not looking, she tipped it into a plant pot.
"Yum yum!" she said.
"Nice, wasn't it?" beamed Zventibold.
34. Happenings in the Imperial Palace
It took days for the fighting to die down and then longer to count all the bodies - the ones not eaten by the beastmen anyway. Piraktesh stood blackened and burned and people said it would never be the same again. It soon became evident that George, possible heir to the Diamond Throne of all the Pirakteshes, had somehow escaped from the clutches of the crabmen. This caused Zventibold a little bit of worry as he would have liked to kill George himself. He couldn't rid himself of thoughts of those ginger hands roaming unchecked over Melissa's creamy curves. But he convinced himself that someone else had spiked the carrot topped toff. And so for a while he had peace. Zventibold did not let the George and Melissa sex thing, however, spoil his wedding. He and Melissa were married in a quiet ceremony officiated over by a blind priest of Hector. To celebrate the joyous occasion, Zventibold had 1,000 peasants maimed. He thought, afterwards, that this might be construed as class prejudice so to remedy that he had a 1,000 noblemen quartered and fed to the beastmen at the wedding do in lieu of cake. The beastmen were not used to such rich food as the aristos so they suffered terribly from wind and diarrhoea that night. This shows that the wedding pleased no one but Zventibold himself, and perhaps Turgid.
The days went by and as Zventibold filled his time committing unspeakable crimes against humanity, Melissa was often by herself. One cool autumn night, she was pacing the rose garden when she came upon William. William, the aged doorman and now Butler of the Palace, was honing Deathbringer and staring emptily at the Palace walls. Melissa said politely, "William? Should you really be doing that here?"
William, for his part, was gravely embarrassed and he put his blade away. Then, with sadness in his old eyes, he turned to Melissa and said, "Yes, mis'ress. Sorry mis'ress." He got up to leave but Melissa put a staying hand on his round shoulder.
"William," she said, hesitantly. "You've known Zventi for a long time. Is it me, or was he not somehow nicer when I knew him last?"
William bowed his head and said quietly, "Ar, 'e be despicable now."
"Ah, I thought as much," she said.
Zventibold, for his part, was enjoying being god-emperor of Piraktesh. It meant he could vent his lusts as he saw fit and that he could go to bed any time he liked. With Turgid at his side, he passed his days decreeing this death and that punishment. Although he dearly loved Melissa, he found he but rarely saw her for doing evil took up most of his time.
One night Melissa and Zventibold were having a rare dinner together in a private room. Zventibold was just about to behead a boiled egg, and was leering fiendishly at it, when Melissa began, "Zventi, you really are evil these days. You weren't half as evil when I knew you in the idyllic days of Alec Bjorn, the foreign carpenter. Now you are 'Zventibold Blood Drinker' and I'm not sure I like it very much."
"Ha ha ha!" laughed Zventibold. "'Zventibold Blood Drinker' is a much better name than Alec Bjorn!"
"Zventibold!!!" shouted Melissa. She had had enough. She stood and stamped her foot.
"Are you serious?" asked Zventibold. For his part, it was obvious he was genuinely startled.
Melissa, for her part, was enraged. "Of course I am Zventibold. It's that little worm Turgid who makes you like this. It's not your old friend Turgid at all, but the evil Tyros Blut, who has reanimated his dead corpse and mark me Zventibold, Tyros Blut means you no good."
Zventibold was puzzled. His brow furrowed, then he said, "Tyros Blut? Don't be stupid." Although Zventibold dismissed the idea, the seed of doubt was sown in his mind.
Zventibold watched her go, the sentence "But Melissa, I am the Autocrat," dead on his lips. He was upset; he really did love Melissa. The only reason he didn't run after her was at that very moment he felt an overwhelming urge to do something evil. He went over to the Crystal of Radiance that sat in a little wooden stand on the sideboard and, on a whim, ordered it to blow the top of the head off every man named Zradig in Piraktesh.
There was a loud bang in the corridor and when Zventibold went out, the wall was spattered red and grey. It turned out that by coincidence, Zradig had been the name of the guard on duty outside the dining room. As Zventibold put out a finger and then licked what was running down the wall, he saw Turgid coming towards him along the corridor, smiling broadly.
"Good one!" he said. "I was just walking past the kitchen when a cook's head blew off." (It seemed that Zradig was a common name thereabouts.) "I guessed it was you," said Turgid. "How about an earthquake in the province of Smalikka?"
Zventibold frowned. "Oh, no Turgid. Thanks for the suggestion but I've got to go and see Melissa to make up. We've had a tiff, you see."
Turgid smiled. "Oh forget that! Let's go and find some whores."
The idea possessed Zventibold totally. "Yes!" he shouted. "Blood, lust, sex, tits, yes!!!" And then they went out.
The next day Melissa did not come down for breakfast and so Zventibold sat alone with his boiled egg.
William entered the room. "Ar, mas'er. Good mornin'. I'm afraid I got some bad news for 'ee."
For the first time that morning, Zventibold smiled. "Sit down William, my old friend. What is this news?" he enquired politely.
William cleared his throat and began. "Well, George, so it's said, is alive and raisin' an army against 'ee, made up of disgruntled aristocrats from the provinces."
"This truly is evil news," said Zventibold. "I must go and find Melissa so she can comfort me and stroke my small head." He rose and without another word, went in the direction of Melissa's room. Melissa had insisted they slept apart for her experiences with George had put her off sexy love.
Zventibold walked up the main stairway and along the side corridor where lay Melissa's room. He knocked tentatively on the door. There was no answer. He knocked harder - still no answer. In a fit of rage he kicked the door down. Melissa was not in the room. He searched and searched, for he feared she might be hiding in a cupboard. All was in vain. He sat down on the bed in misery. It was then that he first saw the nearly written note on the dressing table. He carefully picked up the note, for it had been written by her own dear hand. It read:
"Dear Zventibold,
You have lost my love through your evilness. I have gone back to George; at least he didn't blow people's heads off.
Kind regards, Melissa x."
He noted she had only put one kiss. He knew that girls always put one kiss at the end of their notes and it means nothing. It doesn't mean they love you for instance. And then as he sat, head in hands, he knew it was all over. He had had a bad morning. As he danced a quiet jig of grief, he felt the room spinning. His eyes felt heavy and he thought he would be sick. With that he fell, senseless to the floor.
William found him lying there, and he picked up his beloved, but misguided, master in his stringy arms. Gently he put him to bed.
William was very concerned about his master so later on that night he called up Jeremiah and together they went to call on Zventibold to make sure he was all right. William had placed the accursed crystal under Zventibold's pillow so that no one would steal it when his master was unconscious.
As they mounted the steps he told Jeremiah this. Jeremiah asked. "Be 'ee thinkin' it be the Crystal what 'as made 'im so evil?"
"I be in two minds, Jez," said William thoughtfully. "On the one 'and, it's about the time 'e first picked up the Crystal as 'e got 'is thirst for blood, an' all. But on the other 'and, it was also the same time that young Turgid's previous corpse reanimated and came shufflin' in."
"Hmm," said Jeremiah. "And I know, 'cause you told me afore, but your theory is that Turgid baint Turgid but Tyros Blut?"
"That my my thesis, Jez, and I be prepared to stand before any don or professor to defend it."
"Well, maybe you is right, Willy, 'cause, 'e sure 'as turned to the bad. Even little Melissa's left 'im."
"Ar. She beed the only good on the 'orizon, and she's gone back to George."
"You don't say?"
"Ar, I do, Jez. I do."
Jeremiah pondered as they walked. "Cause I wouldn't 'ave minded a go on 'er meself. Just sayin'."
William halted and fixed his friend with a hawklike gaze. "I knows you be my best friend Jez, but you watch your mouth. She still bees my queen."
"Sorry, Willy. No offence. Just sayin' she was a darlin' little thing."
"Ar that she beed."
And with that the two old men came to the heavy oaken door. Just as William was about to put his hand on the knob, he froze.
"'Ear that Jez?" he hissed.
"Ar," said Jeremiah. "It beed a sound from inside the room."
"Ar." And they both put their ears up against the door. They heard the sound of someone inside.
"Sure as a nut, it bees someone," said William.
"Ar," said Jeremiah. "By Hector, it be."
Through the chink in the door by the hinge, they saw a figure bent over the slumbering Zventibold. As William opened the door, he tensed to spring. The figure spun round. It was Turgid. His eyes were manic and slavver and blood dribbled down his chin. He had been attempting to feed from the prostate Zventibold. He was wearing a purple and yellow silk robe and gown set, but this was disfigured by the slavver.
"Turgid!" shouted William.
"Call my Tyros!" said the figure, eyeing William.
"Tyros Blut, you shall not 'arm my mas'er while I still live," said William.
Blut, alias Turgid, snarled. "When I get my hands on the Crystal of Radiance, which lieth under yonder pillow," he pointed crudely.
"Your mistake, Blut," hissed Jeremiah, "was not takin' it before we entered."
"Ha ha ha ha!" laughed Blut. "I was having a little snack first." Then he screamed at William, "And you, you doddery old fool, you shall die first!"
Jeremiah moved to block the way. "If that be your aim, you is gonna 'ave to come through me first," he said.
William put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "No, Jez. This be my fight."
Jeremiah shook his head. "If we go down under his foul magic," he said, "we go down together."
William smiled, "Brother from another mother!" he said and they high fived.
William leapt.
Blut had underestimated William - thinking him a weedy old man. William on the other hand was as quick as a cat and a mighty warrior to boot. And so they wrestled. Tyros Blut threw William off and he hit the wall with a sickening crack. He lay still and Blut moved over, his evil fangs, dripping spit, eager to finish the doorman off.
"Hey, drooly!" shouted Jeremiah and did a 'bring it' gesture. Blut could not stand to be so taunted and he turned and ran at Jeremiah. But Jeremiah had not been a meat dealer for nothing and he sidestepped, just as he would when filetting a tender steak. Blut went past him and as he did, Jeremiah extended a sneaky foot.
When he was down, William scuttled over and wrapped his arms round the stumbling Blut in a move he had learned from his times with the crabmen. Blut struggled but William was stronger. Blut had been weakened by many years without vegetables, while William had always eaten his greens, when he could afford them. He held Blut in a bear hug and walked him over to the high window. Blut struggled and squeaked like a girl or a rubber pillow, but he could not break the doorman's iron grip.
Jeremiah stood by, watching the scene with iron intent. "Go Willy boy. Twat him." He rushed over to
open the window just as the locked pair got there, William sweating with the effort, and Tyros, bulging bloodshot eyes going round like snooker balls. And then with an exultant battle cry, William hurled the reanimated sorcerer from the high tower window. The two common old men looked out and there was the twisted and smashed corpse of Tyros-Turgid, deader by far than any doorknob.
Without a word Jeremiah and William began to dance slowly and sing a Pirakteshi Battle Hymn. It soon became a polka.
On the bed, Zventibold stirred but did not wake. William stopped dancing and went and wiped the blood from his neck and examined the wound that Tyros's fangs had made.
"It don't look so bad, Jez."
"Ar, I seen plenty worse, as 'ave you my old comrade."
They both nodded and then he reached under the pillow and pulled out the Crystal of Radiance. He stuffed it in the only place he knew - down his trousers. Then he and Jeremiah walked downstairs and out of the palace, through the ruins of the Main Gate. The hamster guards saluted as they went past. No one tried to stop them. They walked until they got to the banks of the mighty Szerkia. There by the foetid waters the two old warriors stood. And then they walked along the river until they got to the newly renamed Turgid Bridge. Here was a fitting place to dispose of the Crystal. Jeremiah nodded. "Do it, Willy."