Deadly Wands

by Brent Reilly

CHAPTER 2

  The lake reflected the last twilight of the setting sun as William finished peeing against a tree downwind of the cabin. No one enjoys stumbling in the woods at night, so William took care of business while he had some light left. As a cool breeze rustled the leaves above, he sensed someone land softly behind him. Assuming a threat, he whirled around and cut the air as far as his steel could reach while he prepared to blast with his other wand.

  Poor Elizabeth had the wit to duck under the deadly blade while her hands held large travel bags. Not wanting to die, today of all days, she quickly shouted out:

  "Prince George sent me! William, I brought your stuff from his castle."

  The sight of a beautiful blond, all alone, stunned William. Never trusting, he instinctively scanned the skies.

  "No one followed me," the girl assured him. "I flew as high as possible and from cloud to cloud to avoid being seen. And only Uncle George knows I’m here. Sorry to surprise you, but these things weigh a ton. George couldn’t come himself, and I was the only one he could trust with your life," she added to give herself leverage. Now that she got a good look at him, she found herself liking everything she saw. Imagining herself in his arms, Liz visibly flushed. “Wow, you are lovely. No wonder my uncle wanted you.”

  William, not wanting to recall the prince’s advances, continued to scan the skies. “Gorgeous girls don’t tell strange men they’re lovely.”

  “Gorgeous?” That caught her breath. Blood rushed to her ego. “Did you just call me gorgeous?” He had no idea how much she needed that, like medicine for a raging fever.

  Flustered, he cursed under his breath. A girl he just met already had him off balance. A really hot girl.

  "Wow!" she exclaimed, examining the distance between them. "You put out over seven meters of steel. I doubt there's a dozen quads in the country that can beat that. You’re a damn super-quad!"

  A “super” quad could extend flame at least seven meters. A quad is only as powerful as his wands, so super-quads must always beware poison or an arrow in the back because their wands were literally worth a fortune. Like the chicken and the egg, even great quads didn’t become super-quads without super wands.

  William tried not to let the flattery affect him. "Hey, I know you. George showed you my factory despite me forbidding tours."

  His sword disappeared back into his wand. She took off the helmet that protected her eyes and ears when flying.

  "I am his niece, Lady Elizabeth. My father is Prince Richard. Because I am his only legitimate child, some refer to me as the heir to the heir." And, with that, she did a curtsy that caused her hair to fall over her face, then threw her hair back over her head because she knew guys really liked that. She ended up with one foot forward and her hands on her hips, trying to look as sexy as possible. He saw through it, of course, but it still made him smile.

  "Nice try, lady, but that won’t work on me," he said, trying not to like her too much.

  "It looks like it already has," she said, gesturing towards his genitals. "You were taking so long that I was not sure if you were peeing or masturbating. George mentioned that you don't go out much."

  Red faced, William turned around, exposing his vulnerable back, to tuck himself back in. He stumbled behind the tree to recover his composure.

  "Thanks for bringing my stuff. You can go now."

  "Oh, because flying at night is dangerous, Uncle George made me promise to spend the night at his cabin."

  Liz heard a groan from behind the tree. She needed him before, but wanted him now, so she changed the subject by opening his bag.

  "George paid what he says he owed you. I found three other small bags hidden in your room."

  "I can't believe you found three out of the four!" Her thoroughness apparently impressed him more than the money. He reset his wands in their arm sockets and walked over to rifle through his stuff. "You brought my tool chest!" he yelled excitedly. "Oh, thank you. I need these tools to maintain my wand launchers."

  He seemed as happy as if she dropped him a ton of gold.

  Making herself at home while he concentrated on his tools, she folded up his sleeves to examine the launchers. Leather and small wires held each wand in place on the underside of each arm. The wires, though, bit into his arms, scaring them. Looking closer, she saw layers of scabs.

  “Wearing those launchers must hurt like hell.”

  “Actually I don’t feel anything anymore. My underarms have thicker calluses than my feet. It’s a small price to pay for a lethal advantage.”

  He did not seem to be joking.

  “You wear them all the time?”

  “Always,” he said flatly. “I’m the last of my line and I promised my parents I’d reproduce before my death. My mother was especially impatient with me.”

  William feared death less than breaking a promise to his mommy. They say good sons make good husbands, and this one was apparently childless, single, and ridiculously cute. Involuntarily, she jumped in joy. The poor bastard doesn’t even know how attractive he is.

  "Then this must launch them," Liz concluded, pushing against a lever that caused the wand to spring into his open hand. "That's bloody brilliant!" Now virtually in his arms, Elizabeth gazed into his sky-blue eyes, admiration lighting up her face. "No wonder George praised you so much."

  While a man cannot fall in love with a woman he isn’t attracted to, a woman cannot fall in love with a man she doesn’t respect. What he saw in her eyes made his skin tingle.

  "Won't they look for you?"

  "I was suppose to marry the Mongol ambassador today to cement a treaty which would allow the Empire to start air bases in England to attack France from behind. I’d rather die than destroy Free Europe. So, yes, they’ll look for me. That’s why I must leave the country.”

  Having sized him up, she realized that she could not ask him to take care of her; he must volunteer to save the damsel from danger. With that she used her wands to lift her bag and backpack and move them into the cabin. Enjoying the view of her from behind, he did the same. Inside she laid out her cards.

  "My Uncle John is the one pursuing you. Without him, you and George would still be in business. He’s also the one behind the treaty, so we both need to flee England because of him. I’d like to strike back before I leave.

  “He has been skimming tax revenues and hiding them in a vault at Castle Edinburgh. I got to know the area during his son's wedding a few years ago. But it’ll take two fliers. If we go late at night, no one may even notice us. If they do, the only decent quad is my cousin Aidian, and I'll take care of him."

  William needed to warn her. "We can't run away together. The Mongol intelligence service is after me. Being with me will only unnecessarily endanger you. You’ll be safer without me."

  She tried a new argument. "A lone woman is not safe anywhere. I can shoot five-meter-long flames, but doing so will attract the very attention I need to avoid. If I fight back and lose, I’m gang-raped to death; if I win, my identify will be investigated. Either way, I’m screwed. If I’m returned alive, the queen will make me reproduce with that horrible man who built pyramids of skulls, and the Mongols will complete their conquest of Europe. If we flee together, then we can pass ourselves off as a married couple."

  William concealed how tempting that was. "You're just a girl. How will you pass yourself off as my wife?"

  And there it was. The moment of truth. Liz looked forward to and dreaded this opportunity. She rehearsed the script she wrote in her head and hoped it sounded natural.

  "I have a related concern. I’d rather die than give the Mongols a plausible heir to the English throne. Not being a virgin would help, being with child would help even more, but being married with child would be best. A legitimate son would have greater claim than a younger, half-Mongolian bastard brother. And a boy as handsome as you wouldn’t hurt, either.”

  Later she would la
ugh at how her vow to “never marry” didn’t even last the day.

  Stunned, he sat on the bed, which put her wonderful breasts at eye level. It impressed him how clearly she thought things through. He liked smart, strong women.

  "How could you plan all this before even meeting me? What if I was an ogre, an idiot, or a birk?"

  "I saw those machines you made to mass-produce the parts for the longbow, so you're no dummy. George likes and respects you, and gays are great judges of character. You could be married, but after three years here alone you’re more likely a widow. You’re not gay or George would have had his way with you. And you could not be ugly or George would not have tried to have his way with you." They both laughed at that. "Honestly, though, I assumed you were much older because he said you must be a veteran. But you’re not old. In fact, I'd say you’re perfect for me."

  “You could be a little taller,” he joked.

  She playfully smacked him, stunned at how comfortable she felt with him.

  “I can’t believe I’m telling a total stranger this, but you should know that my family has dedicated itself to burning the ancient trees that the Mongol Empire needs. The older the tree, the stronger the wand. The Mongols don't have the largest military they can afford; they have the largest military that they can arm. My grandfather estimated we’ve denied the Empire several million wands by burning the trees they use to carve them.”

  "That's bloody brilliant!" And it was. Burning those forests gave the rest of the world time to catch up. His family basically saved Europe. "Two could burn twice as many trees, so we should team up."

  With that, she inexpertly removed her clothing. Now revealed in all of her natural glory, ignorance paralyzed her.

  "Now what do I do?" she begged him, bewildered.

  The adorable look on her face captivated him. He could protect Free Europe simply by marrying and impregnating the queen's delicious granddaughter. His parents would approve. His grandma would blast him for hesitating. William, who never did anything impulsive, went to the other extreme.

  “Lady Elizabeth, will you marry me?”

  Relieved, she jumped into his scabby arms.