by Bill Albert
She followed the guard up a short flight of stairs and onto the top of the platform. The sun blinded her briefly and she was forcibly turned to face the hillside full of spectators of many different shapes and sizes and races. Despite their differences the biggest thing they had in common was that they had all come to see her die. She heard them boo and shout at her and she wondered if it was the sedative that made so many sound like so few. She was ordered to walk the length of the stand where the ministers were waiting.
One at a time the Ninth Minister, the Eighth Minister, and the Seventh Minister took a step forward and looked down at her with cool detachment. Each one of them offered her forgiveness and asked her if she had any final words. She looked up at them, silent, then stepped away.
The Sixth Minister, scratching his beard, also offered her forgiveness, and asked her for any final words. There was something different in this giant. There was a compassion in his eyes that she felt in her heart. Unlike the others, she sensed he wanted her to ask for mercy and would’ve tried to save her. He wanted her to live. Getting no response, he sadly stepped away.
The Fifth Minister was next and leaned close to her to speak and offer mercy. She was briefly distracted by what she could have sworn was the fluttering of wings passing close by, but she saw nothing. Before she was aware of it the Fifth Minister stepped away and the Third Minister was before her.
The Third Minister looked down at her with hatred in his eyes as sharp as the axe the executioner held. Even the detachment in the eyes of some of the others was better than this. He leaned forward and offer her mercy.
There was a brief second where nothing happened. She looked at him closely and considered what he had done and immediately knew one of the reasons that she survived.
“I was in the Dragon Library,” she whispered to him with a clear, strong voice and mind. “I know where the Bridge of Immortality is. If you want to go there, if you want to live forever, you must rescue me.”
The Third Minister stood up and stepped away without saying a word. His heart was pounding, and he forced himself to concentrate on what she said.
The Second Minister also offered his mercy. She was surprised how similar his look was to the Sixth Minister and she resisted the temptation to speak. He stepped back sadly shaking his head and said aloud to himself that he was barely able to watch.
She laid down on her back on the metal table, the death shroud covering everything below her neck, and finally saw the executioner. He was a giant clad in the traditional black leather armor with metal studs. The human sized acts in his hand look ridiculously small but she knew he could easily remove her head with it. She looked in the eye and saw the same detached coldness she’d seen in some of the Ministers. He reared the ax back and tightened his muscles ready to swing.
There was a trumpet call, and everyone fell silent. The attendance from below covered her face with another blood colored shroud.
Everyone waited impatiently for the next trumpet call and knew what would happen when it stopped. The trumpet sounded along low note and Gallif lay relaxed deeply inhaling the natural smell of the flowers.
The trumpet stopped.
The axe fell.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: THE ART OF BEING ME
Blinks leaned over the side of the wagon and took a last look at Outbound. He smiled as he returned his attention to the four horses ahead of him and sped them up as fast as he could without causing too much disruption to the wagon. He wanted to make sure his contents could rest peacefully during the day.
The trip from Gunter’s prison to Outbound had gone quite smoothly. He had been able to find safer, darker places to travel in the early mornings and late evening hours and enough covered spots were Angelia could wait during the day. They ran hard and fast during the night and Angelia’s presence had kept any curious Others out of the way.
They left the main path before they reached the city and Blinks was able to return to the deserted restaurant uninterrupted. It was early in the morning on the fourth day that Blinks started looking for a covered wagon to continue. They worried that a clearly marked prison wagon would get too much attention.
He rode into town and paid a few dwarven coins to leave Horse at a stable for the day. He left the main gate, took a right turn, and made a few steps before reaching up to bat away the annoying insect near his ear.
“Ouch stop that! It’s me!” Lincilara said a safe distance away.
“Oh, whoops, I’m sorry. I forgot about you.”
“Thanks a lot.” She said and even though she was invisible he could tell she was frowning.
“Really, I’m sorry, I was just thinking about this part of our mission.”
“Where are you going?” She asked coming closer so she could whisper.
“Looking at some of the wagon makers,” Blinks said thinking it was obvious where he was going.
“But the goblin in the stable said to go left,” she insisted.
Blinks looked at his feet and then back to the gate he had just exited. Without a word he turned and started walking in the
After only 100 yards they found the wagon maker polishing one of his models. It was long, black, shiny and had a glass window on the site.
“Good day, sir,” Blank said as he approached the gentleman who was tall, thin, gray-haired and wore long black close in a black cat.
“Yes, my friend,” the man in black smiled and nodded. “How may I help you?”
“You have some very nice wagons.”
“Thank you, sir, we provide only the best for our clients.”
“I bet you do. I am looking to buy one for trip I need to take.”
“Buy one, sir?”
Yes, one much like this, it’s just the right size, but instead of glass it has to be completely enclosed.”
“Enclosed, sir? Well, I must say that is an odd request. Usually the open windows are to help honor the intended.”
“Honor the intended?” Blank asked trying to ignore the tugging on his collar from Lincilara. “Oh, I get it, you do mostly upscale events.”
“Yes sir,” the man nodded.
“Like parties, anniversaries,” Blinks smiled and, had it been possible, had pat himself on the back.
“No, sir,” the man frowned
“No?”
“No,” the man replied. “We never do anniversaries but occasionally we will hold an honorary perception after the ceremony is complete.”
“Ceremony?” Blinks asked slowly scratching his head to try and get the invisible fairy to stop bothering him. “I have this under control,” he whispered out of one side of his mouth.
“Ceremony, yes, Sir. In most cases after the body is laid to rest there are some sort of ceremony to honor the deceased.”
The same second Blinks realize what kind of wagon he was trying to buy he heard a distinct giggle very close to him.
“Well,” Blank said looking around at all the nicely crafted hearses in the lot. “We will definitely take that to account when the time is upon us to consider it. She’s been holding steady every day now but we are hoping she’ll get better any day so we may not have to plant, err, bury her in the ground if she gets well. Of course.”
Of course, sir,” the man in black said having no idea what the optically challenged male was blabbing about.
Blinks smiled and walked down the street as quickly as he could and whispered, “why didn’t you tell me what was going on.”
“I have this under control,” Lincilara whispered in a silly imitation of his own voice.
The next two places he tried only sold large, heavy wagons used to transport high amounts of materials. They were heavy and slow and would add weeks to the trip even with six drawn horses.
“Oh, no,” Blinks gasped when he was alone, and no one could hear him speak. “I hadn’t thought of that!”
“What?” Lincilara became visible and pleaded with him. “Are we in danger? Is it about Gallif?”
“Horses! We’ll need t
wo horses,” he said counting his coins.
Lincilara’s shoulders dropped as the urgency of the situation drained out of her and she just shook her head.
“Will need two. I’ll ride Horse, my horse, and Angelia will write her horse. So, we’ll need two more to pull the wagon.
“Why are we getting a wagon again?” Lincilara asked sternly with her hands on her hips.
“So, one of us can stay inside while the other drives and we can get there faster,” he said as if it were obvious.
“What are you going to do with your horse while you’re driving the wagon?”
“Oh, err, on, hold on, I think, weight, it’s almost there, don’t worry,” he said gradually getting more excited until he suddenly jumped up and down and started smiling. “I’ve got a better idea!” He exclaimed.
Lincilara rolled her eyes and smiled at the charming man.
“Instead of getting two horses will use our own! Brilliant, that will make it much easier,” he claimed and had it himself on the back. “See, I told you, I have everything under control.”
“Of course, you do,” Lincilara said with a crooked smile. “Now shut up and get moving.”
Despite Lincilara’s objections Blinks stopped at a small shop and bought a bag of candied fruit, chocolate, and muffins for the trip. She stayed invisible but kept urging him to keep going. He couldn’t help but notice that the complaint stopped when he put a fingernail sized piece of chocolate on his shoulder and a quickly disappeared as she scooped it off.
A smile across his handsome face as he looked across the street into the blacksmith shop. Just inside the small fence was a small, completely enclose wagon. He walked straight towards it and the closer he got the better the wagon looks.
He ran a hand along the wooden side of the wagon, shook the bench at the front, and kicked one of the wheels. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to find but he’s seen Others do it and figured it was mandatory.
“May I help you, sir” the blacksmith asked as he came out of the shop. He appeared to be human but was so covered with dirty oil and sought it was hard to tell. He was short and stocky and wore heavy leather aprons and arm guards. He was very muscular, and his dark hair and beard were matted.
“I like this wagon,” Blinks said. “Is it for sale?”
“Not mine to sell,” the blacksmith admitted and continued before Blinks could say anything. “However, I have been authorized to sell it for Mrs. Hammerdanksweetsong.”
“Hammerdanksweetthong?”
“Hammerdanksweetsong!”
“Hammerdanksweetsong. Well, nice lady?”
“Wonderful lady. Very religious. In fact, she only drove the wagon from her farm to church once a week. This is an excellent shape with very few miles on the tires.”
“That sounds pretty good,” Blinks said with excitement. “How’s like it’s got a good history,” he added ignoring the constant fluttering by his ear. “What is the asking price?”
“I’ll tell you what,” the blacksmith said. “I’m so sure you’re going to love this wagon I’ll make you a deal. You take this off my hands today, so I can get the money to Mrs. Hammerdanksweetsong, and I guarantee you that if you have any problems with it in the next year you bring it in here and I will fix it absolutely free.”
“Ooh,” Blinks said brightly. “That is very good indeed,” he said ignoring the tugging of the hair on the back of his neck. “What is the asking price?”
“You know, I shouldn’t do this, but I know the old lady has been ill and really needs the money, especially when you include the sick husband and child, she has to have extra help on the farm.”
“Oh,” Blinks frowned. “That is so sad.”
“Yes, it is, she’s in kind of a bad way but you seem like some sort of honest fellow so I’m going to give you a break. 50 giant coins, less than what I’d sell it to anyone else, and it’s yours.”
“Oh,” Blinks said looking at the wagon. 50 giant coins was an extremely high price for a wagon, more than twice the average, but he had to take Mrs. Hammerdanksweetsong’s sick family members into account. “You couldn’t just shave just a wee bit off?”
“I’m afraid not,” the blacksmith shook his head. “In fact, I’ll add a bit to the old woman myself. Sweet old lady. Sometimes I’m too nice of a guy for my own good.”
“That’s very nice of you,” Blinks said sympathetically and twitched as he felt the invisible fairy yanking on his ear.
“She’s like a mother to me, the blacksmith added and sniffled.
“Oh,” Blinks sniffled back a few tears and pulled out his bag of coins. Lincilara was not pounding her way into the back of his head with all the might that her tiny fists could muster. He counted out 50 giant coins, almost completely emptying the bag, and happily pass them on to the blacksmith.
“Thank you, sir,” the blacksmith said with renewed happiness. “Now if you could take the wagon off the lot immediately.”
“Immediately? I’m afraid I have to go back and get the horses so that’ll be a while.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I’m just closing up the shop for the day. Can you pick it up tomorrow?”
“Closing for the day? It’s not even lunch yet.”
“Well, the blacksmith said joyously jingling the giant coins in his hand. “I’m sure Mrs. Hammerdanksweetsong will want your money as soon as possible.”
“Understood,” Blinks nodded. “It’s best for you to get out of the heat a while, too. I suppose the poor old woman wouldn’t enjoy you getting her name wrong.”
“You’re too kind,” the blacksmith said smiling and holding the giant coins gleefully. “Now, take your wagon and go.”
Without another word Blinks grabbed the yoke of the wagon and, grunting and swimming, pull the wagon into the streets. As soon as he was outside the fence the blacksmith closed the gate as a young blonde woman came running out of the shop and hugged him.
Blinks smiled knowing that’s Mrs. Hammerdanksweetsong would be taken care of.
As he pulled the wagon through the streets he wondered where Lincilara had gone and was relieved when he heard the fluttering wings return.
“You could help me get this back to the restaurant,” Blinks said out of the side of his mouth as sweat started to drip down his neck.
“Nope,” Lincilara said harshly from the distance.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re a dumb ass.”
***
Once they were in the less populated areas Lincilara became visible and use what casting abilities she could to help with the wagon.
They slowly brought the wagon around the corner and within sight of the abandoned restaurant when Blinks brought them to a stop. They both looked ahead and were surprised to see eight horses reined up to posts near the building. They squinted to get a better luck and realize that there was no one outside.
“Oh no,” Lincilara fluttered her wings and hovered near his shoulder. “She’ll be in her down cycle!”
Blinks grunted and quickly pulled the wagon off to the side of the road so would not roll away. Once it was safe, he dropped the yoke into the wet grass and started running. Lincilara’s wings fluttered hard and she kept just behind him. At one point, puffing for air, he ordered her to go invisible for safety.
They got to the restaurant and Blinks drew his flame sword as they reach the door. Stopped, then decided to use the back entrance instead. He knew it was the fastest way to get to the basement and he knew Angelia would be there.
He headed down the stairs and paused in the dark hallway. He listened for any signs of where the intruders would be. He was angered when he realized they were already in the basement directly ahead of him. He sees a flame sword to avoid drawing attention to himself and quietly worked his way forward until he could hear them speak.
“I tell you, there was someone there!” I young male voice insisted.
“I think was just a shadow from one of us,” another voice young and mail li
ke the first, commented.
“No, I saw something to,” someone else added.
Blinks realize by the various voices that there were at least six young man ahead of him. Most likely all of the riders from the extra horses out front.
“What are you going to do?” Lincilara asked with a whisper.
“I have everything under control,” he said confidently and was sure he could hear the fairy sign relief. “I’ve got it,” he said.
He took a deep breath and then boldly, with the flame sword tucked in its sheath, stepped into the open area where the boys were.
All six of them were checking out some crates and about to go into one of the smaller storerooms. They were young, barely 15 or 16, but were stocking and strong. Each carried a weapon of some sort, either a sword, hammer, or mace and they turned to look at him.
There was very little light in the room. One of them had a small torch with just enough light to see things close but there were long and dark shadows everywhere.
“Kids,” Blinks said in the deepest voice he could reach. “I don’t want any trouble. Just turn around and leave.”
The six boys were not at all impressed by him in each glared back at him and rebellion.
“Who says?” The tallest boy challenged him.
“My name is Blinks. That’s all you need to know because you probably won’t remember much else anyway. Now, one last warning, get out of here.”
The boys glanced at each other, smiled, then fanned out and approached him.
“I don’t think so, old man,” the tall boy, the leader of the group, said.
“I do think so,” Blinks said. “There’s nothing down here for you.”
“Well, if there is nothing down here what you trying to protect?”
Blinks stumbled a bit realizing they had made a good point and called his bluff. Against his own advice he chose to speak anyway. “Well, I said there’s nothing for you but that doesn’t necessarily mean there’s nothing for me so you should still go.”
“There’s one of you and five of us,” one of the boys said shaking his head and stepping forward.