Splatterism: The Disquieting Recollections of a Minotaur Assailant: An Upbuilding Edifying Discourse

by Christian Winter

  Scammander snickered. “For every empty tavern mug there are three prophecies auguring salvation. Besides, didn’t he say benevolent child prince?”

  I nodded.

  “Anything good doesn’t stand a chance in this world. We’ll be perfectly fine.” Scammander turned around, like he expected to see something. “Sometimes you can still feel the tingling right after magic is used,” he said stretching his fingers out and running them along the border between the glowing faery lawn and the dry dirt at the top of the ravine.

  “Do you think we will ever be able to go back?”

  Scammander shook his head. “No need now that we’ve got that book.”

  I held it out to him, but he shrank back.

  “No, it’s best that you hold on to it for now. If Johannes catches up to us, he won’t expect you to have it.”

  “Can I open it?”

  Scammander chuckled. “Sure, but it won’t do you much good unless you can read its cryptic writings. That portly fool Bertram thought I had poisoned the cover.”

  “I didn’t even know you could poison a book cover.”

  Scammander looked at me like I was pitifully innocent. “That was one of the first things I learned to do after I learned how to eat, count, read and write, and poison food.”

  “When did you learn about backstabbing and lying?”

  He chuckled. “I never lie, I just tell different versions of the truth.”

  “So I don’t need the white cloth?” I said slowly pulling the soft cloth back. “It’s very…warm.”

  Scammander shrugged. “It’s hot, but it would only keep your hands warm on a winter night.”

  I opened the pages, which were soft as clouds; the saffron symbols etched into them flashed and throbbed with a solar blaze that was even more radiant in the dark. “This is…writing?” I said wincing and holding the book back.

  “It’s the Aurelius Algorithm. It is highly unstable math,” he said peering over my shoulder.

  “So what can we do with it?” I said closing the book.

  “Nothing. I’ll have to find someone who can read it.”

  I heard some rustling behind me, and Scammander turned around and froze. “I’ve heard of this but I didn’t think it was true.”

  A herd of gryphons was lingering on the edge of the fairy fields where the land began to slope downwards into a twisting, rocky chasm. Some were lowing and mewing, some were snapping at the grass, and some were roughhousing with each other. None of them had wings.

  “They are going to run,” he said, staring at them.

  “Where?”

  “Over a cliff.”

  “Sounds like my kind of animal.”

  “Except some will sprout wings, others will not. That’s about all I can remember of the myth.”

  A small pack broke away from the gathering and wandered over to us. Scammander eyed them with his usual mischievous sparkle as the hues of rainbowed ingenuity calmly rotated around his eyes.

  “Quick, jump on one! We’ll soar into the pit of humanity and slaughter them like bolts of fierce lightning!” he said smiling and patting me on the back as he shoved me forward. I didn’t ask how he knew we were close to the human city just like I didn’t ask what he was really going to do with the book I was currently keeping.

  “How do you know these are the ones that will fly?” I said looking back over my shoulder.

  “They’re in the front, they must feel good about their chances,” Scammander said.

  The pack we were sitting amidst slowly gave way as three or four more groups of gryphons calmly strutted by. My gryphon chirped and bowed its head as it backed away from the stockier birds. A sizeable gathering had accumulated on the edge of the ravine by now, but our pack had yet to merge with it. Suddenly one of the gryphons in the front screeched as it reared up in front of the pack before sprinting down into the chasm, followed by the teeming herd of screeching young gryphons.

  More and more of the wingless beasts rushed by as Scammander began to curse and prod his animal. Without warning, we joined the stream of stampeding gryphons and raced down the narrow, rocky corridor.

  I heard a musket blast behind me, and thought Scammander had finally forgotten who I was, and was now trying to kill me. I turned back to curse him for missing only to see a bearded dwarf leaning half way off a stampeding gryphon trying to steady his musket for a second shot. The pack took a hard left as he fired and the shot crashed into the tall rock wall of the canyon.

  Further back in the pack I saw Scammander’s staff light up and instead of incinerating the dwarf sell-sword behind me, Eidos began to slowly float up and away from Scammander. While Scammander looked confused, Eidos, who had been terrified from the moment he saw Scammander, began to look quite happy. I saw a flash behind Scammander through the dust and tumult, followed by three more in rapid succession. There had to be at least three other mercenaries after us, because nothing could shoot that fast.

  We zipped through another turn, churning up rocks and dirt before we lurched through the final turn and raced straight towards a sprawling canyon. The gryphon tucked its head low and screeched as it began pressing forward, weaving through the sinewy, stretching bodies of its companions as it pounded ahead.

  “Find one that looks like it doesn’t believe,” I heard him shout.

  Every one of them jumped. None of them grew wings.

  Just when I thought there was no way Scammander, or magic, or chance could save me, a giant net did. Incredibly, some sadistic villain had suspended a giant net across the chasm which was now folded up into a giant sack stuffed with mewing gryphons at the bottom and myself, Scammander, and Eidos at the top. I wondered how many tortured suicides had come here, only to be thwarted by this inconspicuous net. I resigned myself to the fact that no one can die until existence has so thoroughly tortured and broken a person that there can be no more amusement in their suffering.

  After a while of languishing above the New World, I heard some shouting and shooting. Two dwarves with giant backpacks sauntered onto the ledge of the canyon, and peered out at us. Their faces were dusty and their long brown beards were cached with dirt. There was some grumbling and mumbling before they slung off the packs, which were actually barrels, and took two clanking tankards off their belts. They turned around and disappeared into the winding mountain pass. The two companions returned shortly with backpacks and a couple of beer bottles each, which they sat on top of the kegs. The one on the left looked down into the sand near his barrel, then shouted to the other one: “Loaded! This one’s empty!”

  Loaded took a quick sip of his bottle, and then walked half way to his friend before falling on his face.

  “Did you poison those?” I said to Scammander.

  “No, I’m afraid not,” he said, dismally watching Eidos.

  The other dwarf twisted the cap off his bottle and leaned on the keg for support while waiting for his companion to get up. He finished the beer then opened another, still looking at the face-planted dwarf.

  “Did he poison it?” I asked again. Scammander said nothing.

  Loaded began to stir and finally sat up and shook his face. “How long was I out for?”

  The other dwarf was guzzling his bottle and didn’t answer.

  “Locked! Locked, how long was I out for?”

  Locked finished his beer and sat it on the top of the keg. He wiped his mouth and belched before replying. “I don’t know, a few minutes tops.”

  Loaded slowly rose to his feet, and stumbled back in the direction he started from, sending a plume of loose dirt forward with each staggering step. With his last step he fell again, but caught the top of the keg with both hands and smothered his face into the barrel as though he were passionately kissing it. Loaded slowly propped himself up, leaning with one hand on the barrel. With the other, he filled the tankard with brew and took a hefty gulp before making a second attempt to visit his friend, only a few paces away on the opposite side of the ledge.

 
; “To villainy!” they shouted as the tankards clanked and echoed around the cavern. After draining the frothing beer, they turned and looked at us.

  “We knew you would come back here around this time of year.”

  “How could you possibly know that?” Scammander shouted.

  “Because you said you wouldn’t,” the dwarf replied.

  “And because we knew you would need money by now, with half the world chasing after you. And since it’s the holidays, we knew you would be selling the birds,” said the other dwarf.

  “I never made money from gryphons, I saved the ones that could not fly.”

  “And sold them to wealthy idiots in the cities who you convinced that they would get to see the gryphon sprout wings, and would make the perfect holiday gift for their children.”

  One of the dwarves started laughing.

  “He is such a devoted liar, Loaded. Even when he’s got that truth-telling statue right next to him, he’s going to lie like it’s the only truth ever told or the only one that anyone will ever hear.”

  I looked at Eidos and figured it was probably a good thing that he was missing half his face at the moment.

  “That’s why he’s such a good villain Locked. I love to listen to his lies.”

  “Let’s see if we can get him to tell a truth,” the other said.

  I had a better chance of dying on purpose than the chance that Scammander would tell a truth on purpose or on accident.

  “Scammander, can you guess the vintage?” one of them called out, tapping his fingers on the barrel.

  “I’ll play that game once you get me down from here,” he shouted back.

  “I don’t think our friend remembers us Locked.”

  “I don’t either Loaded. He used to like playing games with us.”

  “Let’s give him a clue then,” said Locked.

  Loaded cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted out into the canyon. “The barrel is made of wood that has been lightning struck, and the brew itself has been stored in the icy nest of an unpastured onyx dragoness for three years.”

  Locked took an empty bottle off the top of the keg and placed it under the spicket. “I got some for ya right here Scammander, it’s yours if you guess it right,” he shouted out to us as he filled the bottle. Scammander narrowed his eyes but I don’t think he was trying to guess anything about the vintage.

  “You should look for another one of the lightning scrolls,” I chided.

  “Well if you don’t want to play, we’ll just start shootin’ then!” The two murderers started spraying the canyon with rapid musket fire.

  “Stop shooting! Locked don’t you remember the first job I hired you for, to kill that illusionist?”

  Both dwarves, who were aiming at us, folded their rifles up and looked at each other. “No, I don’t remember that Scammander,” Locked replied.

  Scammander winced. “Different set of dwarven assassins.”

  “Wait, I think I remember that,” said Loaded still looking at Locked.

  “I don’t remember much at all these days,” Locked said. A look of profound horror slowly spread over his face. “He stole my memories!” he shouted angrily. The two took aim and began firing again.

  “Shoot the statue you idiots!” Scammander howled. “I paid you to shoot the statue!”

  “Wait, I don’t think we got hired for that job. I just remember hearing about it,” said Loaded.

  “So I can still remember?” asked Locked.

  “Yea, you can remember, you got your memories.”

  “Shoot the statue!” Scammander cried out once more. “I paid you to shoot the statue!”

  “Your mother out paid you,” one called out as he reloaded his gun.

  “And Bertram the cleric,” said the other. “He out paid you too.”

  “And Johannes Dubitandum, he paid a lot,” Locked said as he shot at us. The muzzle flashed but the shot wasn’t anywhere near us.

  “I don’t think we were supposed to let that slip, Locked,” said Loaded.

  The other aimed then wobbled a little and lowered his rifle. “Don’t matter, he don’t got much longer to live.”

  “There’s a lot of contracts out on you now Scammander. A lot of money and jewels and artifacts.”

  “We’re gonna keep your pretty little eyes though, and use them to make matching belt buckles on our gun belts,” said the other, pulling out a long knife and shoving it into the ledge. “I love how he gots all those pretty colors floating around in his eyes,” he said as he tried to balance a rifle on the hilt of the dagger to no avail.

  “Oh yea, and those Bonheuroes. They out paid you too,” he said as he straightened up and shot four times, wide right of where we were hanging.

  “Is there such a thing as a sober dwarf?” I said.

  “Never met one.”

  A rapid burst of bullets went streaming by us, and ricocheted around the chasm. I’d never seen anything fired so fast.

  “How are they firing so fast,” I shot up to Scammander.

  “Pretty sure it’s an old enchantment I added to their muskets.”

  “Good thing they’ve got all that alcohol to counteract all the help you’ve provided them with so far,” I mumbled, peering down into the dark chasm. My dizziness was completely gone. It is an inexcusable curse of existence to make one sober in times of peril and death and intoxicated with life’s sickness in times of peace and clam.

  “How long are we going to be up here?”

  “Until they sober up or until Eidos figures out how to get through the net,” he said, looking over at Eidos, who was frowning and frantically pulling on the net. Scammander took his staff and smashed Eidos’s fingers away from the cords; the statue glared at him then resumed its fidgeting.

  Some more shots were fired and came close, but most whizzed by at a comfortable distance.

  “Locked!” shouted Scammander. “Locked I’ll pay you the sum of all the contracts on me to kill Loaded.”

  “Don’t listen to his sphinxy lips,” said Loaded. “He’s not that wealthy.” He leaned in close to his sell-sword friend. “He’s lying. Just like he always does.”

  “He’s Scammander, I would believe he’s got a lot of money,” said Locked as he considered the offer. “Or knows where to steal some,” the dwarf said as he backed away a little from his comrade.

  “Just shoot him Locked!” screamed Scammander. “Shoot him in the face!”

  “Now just remember how he tricked you the last time Locked, we were humiliated. He shaved our beards after we passed out and ran off into the night. Remember? We weren’t allowed back in the mountain dining halls for years!” He threw back some drink then finished loading his gun. “Remember what they said about us? They said we looked like young maidens with our naked chins!”

  Scammander began laughing, but was silenced by a new volley of musket fire from both guns and another volley of cussing. An empty bottle was flung out and came closest of all to hitting us.

  “Locked! Locked! You’ve always been the smartest one! Perhaps I played a trick, but I knew there was only one wit I needed to battle at the table that night, and it sure wasn’t Loaded’s!”

  There was an angry growl from Loaded as he blasted another flurry of rounds out into the chasm. “Locked don’t listen to him.”

  “Well he’s got a point Loaded. It’s always been me gettin’ new contracts and findin’ new ways to kill our bounty. Besides, he tricked you just as much as he tricked me.”

  Loaded had his gun pointed up at us, ready to fire, but he stopped and lowered the rifle. Suddenly he whirled around and fired on Locked, missing with every shot. Rather than run further away, Locked ran up emptied out on Loaded, then threw his rifle at his erstwhile companion. I heard some cursing then the two resumed shooting at each other, this time with pistols. Five or six shots went out from each pistol at close range and both were still standing at the end of the exchange. There was more slurred cussing and two or three more shots went of
f as each dwarf slumped over. It seemed for once that the stupidity of the world was working to our advantage.

  “Now what,” I said.

  “Well, with any luck Stunt will be along shortly and hit us with a turd or two.”

  Good thing Eidos was above both of us, I thought.

  Another stampede of gryphons pounded down the curving, jagged canyon and sent the bodies of Locked and Loaded tumbling off into the “New World.” Some gryphons spilled over the edge and some sprouted wings and soared up into the sky, a few even screeching and zipping by us.

  Suddenly I felt weightless, the kind of weightlessness that precedes harrowing falls. Wind swept up in my ears and I lost what little breath I had. I saw a wide swath of the net fall from under me and plummet down into the murky abyss, then saw Eidos’s face, or at least part of it, looking very elated, and if he had a mouth, it would have been smiling. Eidos hadn’t been trying to free himself, he had been trying to tear the net out from under us. We began to fall, but Scammander screamed something and we stopped immediately. My ears were ringing and he screamed again, and part of Eidos’s head popped off, while the rest of Eidos plummeted down into the chasm below.

  Of Godlike Labor

  “They would take the city and the dispositions of human beings, as though they were a tablet,” I said, “which, in the first place, they would wipe clean. And that’s hardly easy. At all events, you know that straight off in this they would differ from the rest—in not being willing to take either private man or city in hand or to draw laws before they receive it clean or themselves make it so.”

  Plato

  The lands of Humanity are miserable in winter, sultry in the summer, and good at no season.

  Humanity.

  I grimaced and spat on the ground.

  I didn’t like it when we were here the first time, and I liked it even less now.

  Plus it smelled horrible. I guess Stunt wasn’t the only person dropping his waste on Humanity.

  I walked over the uneven stones, some with brown water stains, and some with thin rivulets of murky waste running between them, to an old massive stone sitting in the center of the abandoned square. I sat on it and looked around.