Four steps out, his foot landed on open air and he fell through the structure and hit the water with a great plash. Chuck thrashed frantically in a moment of panic before his feet touched the riverbed. The water reached just under his neck as he stood up and looked at the bridge.
“What happened?” he gasped.
The bridge was no longer there. In its place was nothing more than a thick log jutting out of the riverbank about ten feet. The illusory span had disappeared. Chase and Ted stood on the bank laughing hysterically. Phil covered his smile with his hand while the others looked on in bewilderment.
“That’s not funny! I could have drowned, you idiots!” Chuck yelled as he waded back to shore.
“You’re not going to drown in five feet of water, Chuck,” Ted assured him.
The soaking wet teen clomped out of the river. “I expect this kind of moronic behavior out of Chase, but you two?” he glared at Chase’s two accomplices.
“Sorry, Chuck, I had to see if it would actually work. It was a really good trick,” Phil said only slightly apologetically.
“I have to admit, that was pretty good, but we still need to get across the river,” Josh reminded the pranksters.
“We found a place to cross around the next bend.”
They all followed the river, which steadily got shallower the farther they traveled downstream. The water rippled roughly over the pebble-laden riverbed and dwindled to little more than two feet deep.
Phil warned everyone to watch their footing. “It may be shallow, but the water is flowing swiftly,” he cautioned.
Chuck groused for much of the remainder of the day about being wet, but he was in better spirits once they lit a fire and his clothes dried out. The night passed quietly once again. They woke far more refreshed and rested than they had in days. Much of the aches and exhaustion finally left their bodies, due mostly to the two relatively peaceful night’s rest. The group took their time eating and packing up before setting off in the direction of the town.
By the time they stopped for a rest around noon, they started to encounter small farms and homes. It was dusk when they saw the outline of the town against the horizon. It was larger than they had expected. They spied the roofs of several building and a few towers jutting over the twenty-foot tall stone wall that appeared to encircle the entire town.
“Finally, some type of civilization!” Felicia cried out as the approached the guarded gate.
“Remember what Cillandril told us about people possibly looking for us?” Phil cautioned. “No offense, Ted, but you don’t exactly blend. I think we should disguise you a bit before we go into town.”
“Great, nice to know they’re modern enough to have invented Jim Crow laws. Just kidding, I know what you mean,” he griped good-naturedly.
“Here, put this cloak on, and keep the hood up,” Phil told him as he handed him the dark green cloak the rangers had given him.
“I just thought of something. What are we going to do for money?” Gabe asked. “Chase can probably steal us some food, but I think a room is beyond even his ability.”
“I have money,” Chase replied, hefting a large pouch that clinked heavily with coins.
“Where did you get all that?” Gabe asked in surprise.
“I got it from that old druid guy.”
“You stole it from Elderin? After everything he did for us?” Felicia shouted in disbelief.
“I didn’t steal it! He gave it to me.”
“Does he know he gave it to you?” she asked, knowing how Chase can twist the truth.
“Yes, he knows he gave it to me,” he responded in a nasally, sarcastic tone then added under his breath, “by now.”
“I can’t believe you stole from the guy who trained us and saved us from those goblins. Without his and the ranger’s training, we probably wouldn’t have a chance of rescuing Drew!”
“And if I had not taken this, then we would probably starve to death and would be sleeping outside—again! We need it a lot more than he does right now. It’s not as if there were a lot of convenience stores there in the middle of the woods for him to spend any of it.”
Felicia gave up her argument. Even the ever-honest Gabe was siding with Chase and the chance to get real food to eat and maybe a soft bed to sleep in.
“Great, we can get a room, food, and maybe a hot bath. I think I’m starting to grow mushrooms in my shorts.” Chuck tugged and scratched at his clothes.
They passed unmolested through the gates about an hour after sunset. The party found a large inn named, surprisingly enough, the Dancing Dragon. A wall of noise hit them as they walked through the door. A large common room with about two dozen tables sat about half-full with people eating, drinking, and talking. They walked straight to the man standing behind a long, polished bar wiping out glass mugs with a clean rag.
The barkeeper was a thin man sporting a thick black moustache with several silver streaks running through it. A long strip of wispy brown hair circled the back of his otherwise bald head. He greeted the approaching youths with a warm smile.
“Welcome to the Dancing Dragon. Name’s Wilbur. What can I do for you young folk tonight?”
“We would like a room for the night and some warm food, sir,” Josh told the man.
“Two rooms,” Felicia interjected. “I would like a hot bath and a night not surrounded by smelly, burping, flatulent guys.”
“I think it would be safer if we all shared a room,” Josh recommended.
“I’m sure I’ll be safe. Are there two rooms next to each other?” Felicia asked the innkeeper.
“Yes, miss. I have a large room with two big beds that’ll accommodate the fellas, and a small private room right next to it.”
“See, you’ll be right next door. If there are any problems, you big tough guys can come save little old helpless me.”
“At least let Gabe stay with you. It’s not like he’s a real guy, is it? He’s totally safe,” Chase assured her.
“I am too a real guy!” Gabe insisted.
“Yeah, right; Felicia, show Gabe your boobs,” Chase ordered.
“NO!” both Felicia and Gabe shouted at the same time, while Gabe hurriedly covered his eyes.
“See, totally safe,” Chase reiterated.
“Naked flesh is the playground of the devil,” Gabe said piously.
“Then sign me up for an all day pass, and put me at the front of the line for the roller coaster!” Chase crowed. “Besides, even if he did try something, you could kick his butt three ways from Sunday!”
Felicia cocked her head and glared at Chase. “I can kick your butt three ways from Sunday!”
“But I want to look at your boobs, that’s the difference.”
“Hey, that’s my sister you’re talking about!” Phil growled with a scowl.
Chase turned to Phil. “You two are so weirdly close, you would probably look at her boobs too!” he accused.
“I would not look at my sister’s boobs!”
“I’m just saying that given the opportunity, as a guy, I would totally look at her boobs. Ted, wouldn’t you look at her boobs if you had the chance?”
“Oh I would definitely look at her boobs,” Ted answered sincerely.
“Stop it! You see why I want a room to myself for one night?” She glared at the innkeeper. “A private room and a hot bath, please.”
“Got yourself quite a handful there, eh missy?” Wilbur asked mirthfully.
“See, even this guy agrees with me. We have saying where I come from. More than a handful is wasteful,” Chase quipped.
Felicia’s face reddened, as her eyes filled with rage.
“That’s not what I meant, little missy, I swear,” the innkeeper swore, raising his hands, palms out in a peaceful gesture.
“Still, given a chance, you wouldn’t mind seeing her boobs either, am I right?” Chase asked doggedly.
Wilbur cleared his throat before answering. “Well, I guess I wouldn’t say no,” he answered a bit hesita
ntly.
“See, I’m right,” Chase proclaimed triumphantly.
Felicia let out a shriek of rage and frustration and pulled out her razor-sharp rapier. “The next person who so much as mouths the word boob is going to leave here with fewer parts than he came in with!” she shrieked.
No one said a word until Chase broke the several seconds of awkward silence. “Does that include any reference to the word boob like breasts or sweater puppies?” he asked innocently. “What if I said something like watch out for that booby-trap? Hey, I should come out with my own line of sports bras! Chase’s booby-trap sports bra. Strap one on, and they’ll never get away. I could get Janet Jackson as a spokes model! Could have prevented that wardrobe malfunction at the super bowl,” he mused.
With an angry growl, she lashed out with her blade and deftly removed a button from the front of her tormentor’s trousers. “Not one more word! Do. You. Understand. Me?” she demanded, emphasizing each word with a slight twitch of her blade.
“I get the point,” Chase replied as meekly as his acerbic character would allow.
“You,” she said, shifting her rapier to point at the innkeeper, “my room, a bath, and food, NOW.”
“Upstairs, last door at the end of the hall, ma’am. I’ll have some of the girls bring up the tub and start filling it with hot water right away,” Wilbur promised hurriedly.
“Thank you,” the furious young woman replied before stalking up the stairs and finding her room.
“Man, what a grouch,” Chase commented as Felicia stalked upstairs. “So what should we do now?”
Josh looked around the room. “I say we get a table, something to eat and drink, then see if we can find anything out about Drew.”
“I’m going to go upstairs and study my books for a while,” Ted told them, then asked the innkeeper to send up a plate of food.
Wilbur called over two serving women, who put large pots of water on the stove in the kitchen to heat before going upstairs and pulling a large, copper tub out of a closet and toted it to Felicia’s room. It took several trips to fill the tub, but she was soon soaking in the luxurious water. The hot water pulled the aches and fatigue out of her muscles almost like magic.
The rest of the troop found a table against one wall as Ted disappeared up the stairs. A comely serving woman soon came to the table and offered them three different options for their meals along with a choice of drinks. Gabe finally settled on apple juice since it was the only non-alcoholic option.
“I think she likes me,” Chase said to his friends as soon as the serving girl went to tell the kitchen their order.
“Who likes you?” Gabe asked.
“The serving wench.”
“She’s probably a prostitute as well. Back then, most serving wenches were, from what I heard,” Chuck replied, taking the opportunity to finally be able to give Chase a hard time.
“So? Hookers can fall in love too—like in the movie Pretty Woman,” he said defensively.
“The only thing she is in love with is the gold in your pants,” Chuck continued to tease.
“She’s in love with something in my pants, but it isn’t coin,” Chase shot back, elbowing Gabe.
“You probably wouldn’t even know what to do with what’s in your pants,” Gabe shot back, getting in on the ribbing.
Chase’s face flushed as everyone started ganging up on him. “I do too know how, and I have!”
“That creepy aunt with boundary issues doesn’t count.”
“Oh, good one, Gabe!” Chuck applauded the normally quiet boy’s comeback.
“It does too count!”
“Oh my God, you did your aunt? Was it that fat one with the wooden leg?” Gabe asked incredulously.
“Ew, no. That’s my mom’s sister. I’m from the Willamette Valley, not the Everglades! I’m talking about my dad’s brother’s wife. And that was only a common-law marriage with no blood relation.”
“Is that the weird one who is into crystals and chanting?” Gabe queried.
“She wasn’t that weird, and she has a nice body and eye,” Chase defended.
“Don’t you mean eyes?” Josh asked.
“Technically, one was made of glass, so I don’t count it.”
They were all still laughing when the serving girl returned with mugs of beer and Gabe’s glass of juice. Dinner soon followed, and they all ate like starving dogs, even ordering a second plate. They soon found that Chase’s pilfered purse contained a rather large sum of money. The meals and rooms barely made a dent in the total.
“All right, I think it’s time we try to find out a little information about this place, and whether anyone has seen or heard anything about Drew,” Josh suggested as they cleaned the last of the food off their plates.
“Good idea,” agreed Chase. “I think we should use false names though, in case they made Drew tell them about us. Josh, you can go by the name Don Gawain. Chuck, you are Richard Enmouth, but you go by the name Dick.”
“Why do I have to be named Dick?”
“Richard is a royal name, like Richard the Lionheart and Little Richard. These are simple people, Chuck, and Dick is a friendly name of familiarity used by people named Richard, like Dick Clark, Andy Dick, Moby Dick, and Dick Cheney. Dick Cheney, Chuck, the guy shot a man in the face! How cool is that?”
“I guess so,” Chuck agreed.
“All right then, go find Drew for us. Gabe and I will watch out for any suspicious strangers and listen in on people’s conversations.
The two warriors went to the bar and ordered drinks, striking up conversations with some of the patrons, and buying rounds to make friends. Chuck approached a table of locals with a large pitcher of beer in one hand and his mug in another.
“Hey fellas, mind if my friend and I join you?” the large young man asked jovially, raising the pitcher of beer.
“As long as your friend is the generous sort, we don’t mind at all,” one of the men said, pointing at an empty chair. “Name’s Jed, this is Toby, Amos, and Clyde. What’s your name, friend, and what brings you to Martin’s Vale?”
“My name’s Richard Enmouth, but my friends call me Dick. We’re just passing through while looking for a friend of ours,” Chuck supplied as he filled the glasses of the men at the table from his pitcher.
A subdued chortling erupted from around the table at his pronouncement.
“What’s so funny?”
“Um, nothing—Dick,” Amos replied.
“Is there something wrong with my name? A lot of people go by the name Dick.”
“Maybe you should go by the name Richard,” Jed recommended, laughing into his cup along with his friends.
“Why, what’s wrong with Dick Enmouth?” Chuck demanded, starting to get angry at being mocked.
“Well I guess that all depends on who you ask. Personally, it’s just not to my taste!” Jed hollered out in a burst of laughter accompanied by his friends.
“You don’t want to share a drink with me then fine! I’m sure there are plenty of people in here that wouldn’t mind sharing my beer!” Chuck shouted and stood up from the table, taking his beer with him. “Who wants to drink a beer with Dick Enmouth?” he asked across the common room.
“Seems to me like it would be a bit hard to swallow that way!” an anonymous voice shouted across the room.
The entire tavern room burst into raucous laughter at the big warrior’s expense. Chuck’s face was purple with rage as he tried to figure out what made him the butt of some unknown jest. As his head swiveled around, and his eyes locked onto the sight of Chase furiously pounding on the table with laughter, Chuck finally understood what the joke was.
“Chase, you son of a…!” Chuck bellowed as he threw his heavy, clay mug across the room.
Chase narrowly ducked the projectile as it shattered against the wall just over his head. He continued his slide under the table as Chuck charged across the room and leapt across the table, reaching for his throat.
“I’ll kill
you, you little worm! When I get a hold of you, your name will be Chase Footinass!”
Chase slid under the table and out the other side as Chuck sprawled across the top of it. The enraged fighter spun about as Chase sprung onto another table, leapt up, grabbed the overhead rafters, and pulled himself up into the shadowy support beams. Chuck cursed and hurled several more mugs at him.
“My name is Chuck, not Dick!” he screamed, then stomped upstairs with his pitcher of beer in humiliation.
He demanded that another tub be brought to his room and filled as he stalked past the bar. Wilbur called for a couple of the kitchen staff to fill his request. Chase climbed back down from his perch once the coast was clear and sat back at the table.
“Chase, can you be serious long enough for me get some information?” Josh begged.
Chase gave him an innocent look and quietly sipped his beer. Josh went back to striking up conversations. No one paid any attention to the three men in a shadowy corner of the inn who closely watched the antics of the young strangers.
As the evening grew late, Josh waved Chase and Gabe upstairs and asked the innkeeper to set up and fill a second bathtub in their room. They found Chuck asleep in the now cold water of his tub, an empty pitcher of beer next to him.
“Chuck, up and at ‘em,” Josh called to his friend.
Chuck opened his eyes a crack and looked down at his waterlogged body. He mumbled a few incoherent words stumbled out of the bath, nearly spilled himself naked across the floor in the attempt.
Gabe threw him one of the towels from a stack that had been thoughtfully placed on the table. Chuck toweled himself off quickly and crawled into one of the two big beds occupying the room.
“There is no way I’m sleeping in a bed with a naked Chuck!” Chase swore.
“Chuck, put on some clothes, man,” Josh begged and threw a pair of boxers and a t-shirt at him that he pulled from his pack.
Chuck struggled with the clothes, and after being woken up three times part way through, he finally got himself dressed.
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