“Fetch them all!”
THE ARRIVAL
The transport wasn’t as jarring for Lance-A-Lot this time. It had all the same whirring and noises and such, but he didn’t feel nearly as foggy. A little, sure, but not bad.
Allison hadn’t seemed bothered either. She just tapped him on the arm and pointed at the two guards standing in front of them. They were facing away.
The one on the left was short, chubby, and had graying hair that spelled he was the older of the two. The fellow on the right was lanky and a bit taller. He was probably the height of Lance himself.
“Who are they, do you suppose?” Lance whispered.
“Roman soldiers, I’d guess.”
The thinner of the two guards glanced back over his shoulder and then spun quickly, pulling his sword out in the process.
“Two more of them, Buttus Facius.”
“How are we not seeing them when they arrive, Thumpus Rumpus?”
“My guess is that we’re looking the wrong way.”
“But Nameous Oneus and Nameous Twous are just over the hill,” said Buttus. “They should have spotted them.”
“True, but they’re both idiots.”
§ § §
On the other side of the hill stood two very plain guards. They were both of average height, average build, had brown hair, brown eyes, and stood at their posts in average stances. They were neither good nor bad at their jobs, but rather, again, merely average.
“Do you suppose we will ever get ahead in life, Nameous Twous?”
“I don’t hold much hope, Nameous Oneus. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know,” Twous said, kicking at the dirt. “Just always felt like I was meant to do something more, you know?”
“Not really.”
“Like I have a destiny or something.”
“Hmmm.”
The two stood staring at the open plain before them. Behind were the palaces and governmental buildings and large gardens, but these two were never placed in areas that overlooked that. They got the barren horizon view.
“Like what?” asked Oneus.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you said you felt like you have a destiny, right?” Oneus said.
“Yeah, so?”
“So what do you think it is, Nameous Twous?”
“Ah, I see.” He wiped his brow before answering. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I sense it shall be rather important indeed. Maybe I’ll be sent to save a princess, or possibly they’ll choose me to lead an army. Something of that sort.”
“Hmmm,” said Oneus again, nodding sagely. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Nameous Twous, but my thoughts tell me this could not be the case for either of us.”
“Why not?”
“It’s basic logic,” said Oneus.
“It is?” replied Twous.
“Of course.”
Twous looked back off into the distance for a moment, but then said, “I don’t understand, Nameous Oneus, why would we not be utilized in some grand way?”
“Because we were not even important enough for the authors to give us proper names, man!”
§ § §
Thumpus pointed the sword at Lance and Allison. “Anyway, who are you two?”
“I’m Allison Smith.”
“And I’m Mitch Bowenkawski,” said Lance powerfully, “though you may know me as Sir Lance-A-Lot.”
Buttus scratched his cheek. “Let me guess: Costume party?”
“I don’t think—”
“Yes,” interrupted Allison. “That’s right. Were there others here from the costume party? We’re looking for them.”
“Took them to the emperor earlier,” answered Thumpus. “They said they had an invitation. You have one, too?”
Allison smiled. “Of course. We were with them.”
“Were?” Buttus said.
“We, uh…” She turned away slightly as if hiding a blush. “We stopped off in the woods for a little afternoon delight.”
“Heh heh,” said Buttus.
Thumpus winked at Lance and said, “Well done, Sir Lick-Her-Spot.”
“That’s Lance-A-Lot.”
“Ah, yeah, sorry.”
Buttus Facius grunted and said, “Follow us.”
ALONE TIME
Jupiter and Leto had finished watching the end of CSI: Alpha Centauri and Jupiter was not pleased with the outcome.
“How is it that a Roriorian Nun killed the guy?” Jupiter said, scoffing. “It doesn’t make any damn sense. Firstly, it’s against their Order to do so; secondly, she wasn’t even in the vicinity when it happened; and finally she was dead before he was!”
“It’s just a show, dear,” said Leto as she sat in front of the console to check on the status of things on Earth.
A green light blinked.
“Who is that?” said Jupiter, standing behind Leto.
“That is Lance-A-Lot,” Leto replied with a grin.
“And who is that with him? She’s rather ravenous.”
“Probably just some floozy.”
“Even better,” Jupiter said, grinning himself.
Leto leaned back and glanced coyly up at Jupiter. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
He was. “Swing party?”
They both began to giggle. It wasn’t often that Leto would go in for that sort of thing these days, so whenever she brought up the thought, Jupiter was more than happy to oblige. Obviously there was something about this Lance-A-Lot fellow that revved her warp drive, but if that meant Jupiter would get a roll in the hay with the other woman, he wouldn’t complain.
“Whatcha’ll looking at?” said Pluto as he walked into the room.
“Nothing!” Jupiter said, spinning away from the console. Then he realized he’d been a little too animated. He leaned back on the desk and scratched on its corner. “Nothing at all.”
“Hmmm.”
“So,” Jupiter said at length, “you going out tonight, by chance, Pluto?”
Pluto looked at him curiously. “Wasn’t planning on it. Why?”
“No reason. Right, dear?”
“Nothing I can think of…” Leto trailed off and then held up a finger. “Except maybe judging the dead or something?”
“What?”
“You know they call you Hades and you’re supposed to judge the dead?”
“Yeah, I know,” he said with a shudder. “Never did like that. Kind of creepy.”
Jupiter could see that Pluto needed a little more of a hint. The one thing men shared was the ability to tell when one of their pals had the potential to get lucky. It was an unwritten rule that, when spotted, your duty was to vamoose as deftly as possible.
“Anyway,” Jupiter said, giving Pluto a knowing look, “was just thinking it may be a nice night for you to be... somewhere... else.”
“Sorry?”
“You know,” Jupiter said, more insistently, “go somewhere else on this fine evening.” Then he winked and added, “Like, away from the ship, for example.”
Pluto frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Leto sighed and pushed Jupiter out of the way. She then stood up and put her hand on her hip. Both gods flinched.
“We want to bone,” she stated. “So go away.”
“Oh!” Pluto nearly choked on his drink. “Well... Wow! Uh…”
Leto pointed at the exit to the landing bays. “Now!”
“Jeez,” said Pluto, setting his drink down and walking to the door. “Is she like this during your—”
“Now!”
“I’m going, I’m going!”
ALL BACK
The entire entourage from Camelot was back up in the main palace.
Arthur quickly detailed what had transpired between him, Arty, the gods, and Flaccidus. The fact that neither of the kings were going to be executed was a relief for everyone, especially the kings who were planned to be executed.
Things were a bit more relaxed now, too. They were all seated and t
here were small plates of fruits being passed around. Arthur would have preferred a nice bowl of stew and an ale, truth be told, but he wasn’t going to press his luck.
“All of you are from a different time, yes?” asked Apollo.
“Well, uh—” started Merlin, giving Arthur a concerned look.
Apollo waved at the wizard. “Speak, Merlin.”
“You know my name?”
“Of course,” Apollo replied with a chuckle. “We’re gods. Right, Athena?”
“Though it should be abundantly clear by now,” she said tiredly, “I shall answer it once again: Yes, we’re gods.”
“Uh, okay,” said Merlin. “Well, are you sure you want me to speak of this in front of Fickleweenus?”
“For the love…” Flaccidus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “My name is Flaccidus, man! Honestly, how difficult is that to remember? Don’t you think it’s bad enough of a name as it is?”
“Sorry,” said Merlin with his hands up in surrender.
“He’s just a temporary emperor,” Apollo said dismissively. “Who is he going to tell?”
Galahad leaned forward. “Temporary?”
“Of course,” said Athena. “Any of the scholars from your day can tell you there’s no Emperor Flaccidus in the history of the Roman Empire.”
“I was originally Longus Dongus,” Flaccidus put in.
“No one cares,” Athena said, clearly getting a good deal of enjoyment from the man’s humiliation.
“Harsh.”
“Truly, it is,” Arthur agreed with Arty. He then set down his bowl of fruit and focused on Athena. It wasn’t much of a challenge since her beauty was unfathomable. “What have you against this man?”
“He killed off his brother because of a lost bet,” Athena answered.
“Horrible thing to do,” spat Apollo.
Flaccidus looked at everyone in turn. “He made me change my name from…” He stopped and put his head in his hands. “Oh, never mind.”
Arthur had seen many lives taken during his years in royal circles. There was always some enterprising person who had designs on ruling an empire. They rarely understood that to be the ruler put you square in the crosshairs of a slingshot, bow, crossbow, knife, or sword. And if you were in the future, there were also pistols, sniper rifles, and all sorts of advanced explosives—based on the shows he’d seen on Allison’s TV, anyway.
“So,” Arthur began, “because he had his brother killed—which is indeed dastardly, unless it was for a solid reason, such as protecting the kingdom—you dislike him?”
Athena raised her eyebrows and said, “His brother was great in the sack.”
“So true,” said Apollo wistfully.
“Amen,” agreed Slutius.
Flaccidus snapped his head towards his queen. “What?”
“Okay,” Merlin said, obviously having had time to think things through during the discussion over Flaccidus’s, well, predicament. “We came back in a time machine.”
Apollo nodded sagely. “Is that so?”
“We saw you arrive,” noted Athena, “but we weren’t sure how you’d done it.”
“Indeed. Did you invent this contraption, Merlin?”
“No, Apollo. I haven’t a clue how it works.”
“Do any of you know?” asked Athena.
Nobody said anything. They all just shook their heads. Merlin and Galahad probably did know something about it, but they were being tight-lipped. Surely the gods could manage time travel. If not, how would they know about Arthur, Merlin, and the rest? There were no future books. Speculative novels, sure, but nothing like a history book of the future.
Arty grunted finally and said, “All I know is that it involves bein’ in a cave that’s after lookin’ like a tree.”
“What?” said Apollo.
“It was in my house,” answered Merlin. “I live in a hollowed-out cave. Anyway, apparently something went wrong and we ended up here.”
“I see, I see.” Apollo flicked a grape into the air and expertly caught it between his teeth. “You do realize that this could jeopardize your timeline, right?”
“I’m all too aware of that,” Merlin replied, “but I’m afraid we are rather stuck.”
They couldn’t have been stuck for too long. Allison would have to notice something was awry the moment that she and Lance came back for a visit. That was some time away, sure, but as long as these gods were about, it seemed that Arthur and his party were safe.
“Flaccidus,” commanded Athena as she stood and stretched, “prepare a feast for this evening so that we may discuss this further. Put our guests in proper lodgings and keep a set of guards around to protect them from prying eyes.” She began a sensual walk to the main door. “I shall be in the main suite.”
“Mine?” said Flaccidus.
“Is that a problem?”
“Uh…” Flaccidus’s shoulders drooped. “No, my god.”
“Didn’t think so.”
“And I shall be at the bath house,” announced Apollo with a wide smile.
Flaccidus sniffed. “Not surprising.”
“What was that?” Apollo said, stopping and looking back at the emperor.
“Uh... Was just thinking about who to invite to the feast.”
“Good point,” Apollo mused. “Too late to get local royalty roused.”
“Invite the lower level guards,” Athena said wickedly. “Tell them to dress for a night of fun. Make their superiors walk the walls for once.”
“Devious,” giggled Apollo. “I like it.”
“They’ll be furious, my god,” Flaccidus yelped, looking weaker with every passing moment.
“Would you prefer the fury of your elite guards,” Athena said as her eyes grew cold, “or mine?”
WHERE'D THEY GO?
As Thumpus Rumpus and Buttus Facius walked Allison and Lance down toward the emperor’s palace, Lance took the opportunity to look around.
There were large buildings in most directions with some outcroppings of empty areas splitting amongst them. Each structure was impressively put together with gigantic cylindrical columns, grand steps, and carved artistry that demonstrated the skill of the craftsmen from this age. The people were mostly dressed in white outfits that revealed their legs and arms. They wore thin leather belts that appeared to serve no real purpose besides decoration, and Lance was hard-pressed to spot anyone unadorned with jewelry.
The two guards were walking ahead of them, obviously taking the ruse of Lance and Allison being invited guests to heart. Were Lance in their shoes, he would have followed his quarry so that he could keep an eye on them.
“So how long have you two been guards?” asked Allison.
Thumpus glanced back over his shoulder and answered, “Going five years now for me.”
“I’m just about four myself,” said Buttus.
“Enjoy it?”
“Better than when I was a towel-boy at the bath house,” replied Thumpus.
“What was wrong with being a towel-boy?”
“I was on the male side.”
“Ah.”
“My last job was okay,” said Buttus as they walked down a few steps. “Was a taskmaster.”
“What’s that?” Lance asked.
“Like it sounds: I yelled at slaves and hit them with a whip when they didn’t work hard enough.” Buttus shrugged. “Did that for years, but sort of lost the joy in it. It was fun enough at first, sure. I mean, think about it, I was getting paid to yell at people all day and hit them with a whip. But I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to life than that.”
“And did you find that ‘something’ in being a guard?” said Allison.
“Not in the least.”
“Dignitaries,” Thumpus announced.
They stepped off the path for a few moments as a procession of people marched towards them. Each was wearing a gold-leafed tiara, all of different sizes and shapes, and they all had younger servants bumbling behind them who were carryin
g scrolls and leather pouches.
As each set walked past, Lance was able to hear brief snippets of their conversations.
“…And the regency is to make this proclamation when?” said one pompous-sounding fellow.
“Third week of the month,” answered another.
A chubby fellow was saying, “Did you see the way Scabbus Scratchus was digging at himself during our discussion? I swear the man is unwashed.”
Lance quickly scanned the flock of important figures to try and spot who this Scabbus fellow may have been. As fortune would have it, the man was only a few in line behind the chubby man who had been saying derogatory things about him. Lance knew this because the guy was giving his groin a full-on scratch.
“Did you see how Slipus Outicus’s hindquarters were showing from his outfit again?” said Scabbus Scratchus. “You’d think he’d feel the breeze.”
Lance glanced back up the line. Sure enough, the man known as Slipus Outicus was displaying his derrière for the world to see.
“Let me ask you, Dribblus Mucus,” queried a strong-looking brute to another who was busily wiping his chin, “do you honestly think we can have the crops sewed up by the end of the season?”
“It can be done, Uranus Bleedus,” answered Dribblus. “We just need to stay focused.”
Lance found these names odd, but as he watched them pass, he cringed. Some people should simply not wear white.
“How are the kids these days, Fukus Toomuchus?” said a man to one of the few women in the group. “You have, what, fifteen now?”
“Seventeen, Rotundus Posterius,” the woman replied.
The marching paused, giving Lance a good view of the man, making clear that his name fit his persona as well.
“How do you keep track of them all?” asked Rotundus with a chuckle.
“It’s all in how you name them.”
“What are their names again?”
“The oldest is Vini, and then there’s Vini, and Vini.” She was counting on her fingers while looking up to the right in thought. “Vini, Vini, and Vini. Then Vini, of course, and Vini, Vini—”
Comedic Arthurian Bundle: The Adventures of Queen Arthur Page 27