“Now, I have been wondering about that,” said Murland, sitting up and waggling a finger. He blinked his puffy lids heavily. “How in the bloody hells can one dragon light the entire continent on fire? And if there were such a grand beast, how in the hells would we be able to ‘scare’ her away in the first place?”
Willow hadn’t thought about that before.
“Yeah,” said Gibrig. “A beast that size would be…well, the size o’ the Wide Wall! And why the hells don’t Kazimir just whoosh her big black butt somewhere else?” He pointed at Willow enthusiastically. “You always ask him about whooshing, and he never answers you!”
Willow sighed. “I have no answers. I just know that we made a promise, a vow to do this.”
“Meh,” said Sir Eldrick, and he lit a long thin cigar that smelled like elderberries that had been gathered next to a skunk den.
“Why would we want to travel to that blasted place when we have everything we need right here?” Brannon asked, arms wide. “Here, I don’t have to act like something I’m not. Here, I can be myself.”
“And what about Valkimir?” Willow asked, cocking a green brow.
Brannon soured and seemed to shrink in his cushions. “What about him?”
“You love him, and he loves you,” said Willow, glancing at Brannon’s new “friend.” “How would he feel if he knew you had abandoned your quest and were going around behind his back with this waif, who is half the elf he is?”
Brannon scowled at her, and the elf who had been feeding him grapes looked like he might suddenly begin to cry. His eyes pooled with tears, and he hurriedly ran out of the tent.
“Look what you did!” Brannon hissed, throwing back his blankets and beginning to stand.
She forcedly pushed him down again. “Sit down. You all need to listen to me!”
“Come on guys,” said Gibrig with a big concerned smile. “Hey, what say we go paint somethin’?”
“What about you, Gibrig? What would your father say?” Willow asked him.
He looked to her, his eyes pooling with tears and lip quivering.
“Leave him alone,” said Sir Eldrick.
“And the great Slur Sirsalot,” said Willow, digging the words in. “Quits questing and becomes a drug-addled fireside lump.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sir Eldrick spat. “There was no quest, there was no heroic destiny for us. Brannon and I were leading you to—”
“No!” Brannon screamed.
“Yes, there is a quest!” Willow boomed over them both, shooting to her feet and kicking the chair she had been sitting in, causing it to fly right out of the back of the tent and crash into someone outside, who cried out in surprise.
“There is a quest,” Willow went on, ignoring the moans issuing from outside the tent. “And we are the godsdamned champions! Do you know what’s going on out there? Do any of you even see?”
They looked at each other, confused.
“The captain is duping everyone. He is keeping you all high on fust so that you’ll never leave. He has done it to every dippy here. He uses us to catch the fairies, and then he uses the fust to keep us pacified and stoned. And you know why we really have to cut our fingers off?”
“To become a real dippy!” said Gibrig with a cheer.
“Are you listening to yourselves? You are going to CUT, YOUR, FINGERS, OFF…”
“Just half of it,” said Murland, looking at his right hand. “Captain Ripps says that our ties to the material world exist in that fingertip, and it must be chopped off to fully be free.”
Willow crossed her arms and glared at them all. “And you think that makes sense, do you?”
Sir Eldrick choked on a water pipe hit and glanced at the others. They all nodded agreement as though it were obvious.
She threw up her arms. “You know what? You four are impossible. Thanks for nothing!”
Willow stormed out of the tent and slapped the flap closed, shaking the entire structure.
Something hit her in the leg like a bee sting, and then another hit her in the neck, and then the arm. She reached up with a shaky hand, her vision blurring and her head suddenly becoming light, and pulled out a feathered dart. She turned her head, stumbling, and found Captain Ripps standing with two rainbow bears, each with a blowgun in their mouths. Two more darts hit her, and she reached for the captain, intent on ripping off his head. She took three staggering steps and fell on her face.
Chapter 8
And This Little Piggy had None
Willow jerked awake and tried to sit up, but her arms and legs were chained down, and something cold was clasped around her forehead. The light of a torch held too near to her eyes blinded her. She could feel its heat on her right cheek.
“Good evening, Willow,” said Captain Ripps. Behind him stood two red ogres with curving tusks that were longer than was normal for their species.
Willow thrashed against her chains, straining to break them but to no avail. Her right hand was tied down with leather, unlike the left, and the fingers were all bound within the leather strap, all but the ring finger.
“You turned out to be smarter than you look, my dear ogre. I have never met someone who is immune to fairy dust, aside from the fae of course. Perhaps you have fae blood in you.”
The torch was moved aside and the captain was smiling down on her. Beside him, looking quite unfriendly, was the dwarven guard Willow remembered as Danbrig. He had a small but heavy looking hatchet resting up against his shoulder, and he was eyeing Willow’s finger.
“You can’t do this. You don’t understand. We are the Champions of the Dragon. If we do not stop Drak’Noir, no one will!”
“Won’t they, though?” said Captain Ripps. “To tell you the truth, I don’t much care either way. I don’t make my money off peace, you know.”
“Charlatan! You’re nothing but a filthy slave master.”
The captain considered this and glanced at Danbrig with a shrug. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“Kazimir will never let you get away with this!”
“I keep hearing about the Great Kazimir, but he has yet to appear. For weeks now you have been off your road, and…” The captain extended his arms wide and glanced around. “Where is he?”
“He always shows up when you least expect him, and when you most need him.”
“Well, then, let us test your theory. Right now, I least expect him, and you most need him,” said the captain. He nodded at Danbrig, and the dwarf leveled his hatchet over Willow’s finger, taking aim.
Willow screamed and thrashed, but the chains were too strong.
“If you’re correct, he’ll show up right now!” said Captain Ripps.
The hatchet went back.
“Kazimir!”
The hatchet came down.
Willow waited for a flash of light, a glorious bang, a streak of lightning, a puff of smoke, anything that would announce the wizard’s arrival. Instead, she felt the quick cold weight of the hatchet on her second knuckle. With a sickening crunch, her finger was cut in half. Hot pain shot through her arm as a glowing knife was pressed to the stump.
Willow howled in pain and shook against her chains.
Captain Ripps glanced around the room as Willow screamed. “I guess Kazimir had prior engagements,” he said, and shared a hearty laugh with Danbrig.
“You son of a barren hag!” cried Willow, more angry than afraid. “When I get out of here I’ll—”
The captain stuffed a rag in her mouth and bent to her ear. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” He turned to Danbrig. “Put her to sleep. Then get these two geniuses to help load her up on a cart with the other stock. Get her out of my city.”
Danbrig pricked her with a needle, and warmth filled her body. Her head swam, and she forgot the pain in her throbbing finger.
Her body rocked gently, the lull beckoning her back to sleep. She fought the desire, the sweet song of slumber, and became keen to a faint sense of dange
r. She opened her eyes to darkness and felt the chains still squeezing her body tight. Her mind raced to remember where she was. Her finger throbbed terribly, and her head ached like a bad hangover.
Her finger!
The memories came rushing back and filled Willow with dread. The others were in danger; she was in danger. But where were they bringing her? “Load her up with the other stock,” the captain had said.
Willow struggled against the chains, but they were hopelessly tight and restricted her breathing. She began to hyperventilate. The chains, the closeness of the dark, and the smell of the pine pitch sticking to her skin—it was all too much.
She tried to calm herself and get her bearings. She listened, trying to make out her surroundings beyond her small prison. The low rumble of wagon wheels over a rutty path vibrated through the wood beneath her, and the occasional slap of reins told her of a driver. Then she heard giggles and hushed speech.
“I told ye to shut it while we be on the way to the coast. Ye keep yer yappers shut, ye get treats. Ye don’t keep ‘em shut, ye get nothin’!” said Danbrig.
“They’re excited for their surprise,” came a man’s voice that Willow did not recognize.
She listened to the many horse’s feet, guessing that the other guard could be riding along beside the wagon.
“And won’t they be surprised when they are put on the pirate ships, bah!” said Danbrig.
Willow guessed that there were at least a half a dozen others, including the dwarf. It would take as many to move her around in a box, and then there were the dippies to keep rounded up. She had no problem with the idea of taking on seven guards, even if two of them were the red ogres she had seen, but first she had to get out of the blasted chains. She was tied up so tight that her skin was bulging out like a rising dough haphazardly wrapped in string.
Claustrophobia began to set in again, and her mind screamed to be released. She flexed her muscles and pushed out her big belly, but the chains only cut into her skin more.
Come on Willow, you’re the strongest ogre there is, she told herself, pressing harder.
She pushed out with her arms and took in a big gulp of air, expanding her large chest. She shook with the effort, flexing every muscle in her body.
A pop and the groan of metal forced her to stop. Something had given way. A link in the chain had broken. She could feel it no longer against her left arm.
She redoubled her efforts, pushing and jerking her muscles. She flexed her back, clenched her balled-up fists, bent her legs, and squeezed with all her might, growling with the effort.
Another chinking pop, and another.
Willow flexed her huge arms and pushed her elbows outward, snapping the chain links with quick jerks of motion.
“What’s going on back there?” Danbrig called.
Willow frantically freed her left arm and then her right. She couldn’t sit up in the box to get at her legs, but she could pull the chains off her chest and hips.
“The ogre!” came the startled voice of the man who had been speaking with Danbrig.
Something hit the side of Willow’s box. “You best be good in there, else there won’t be no treats for you,” came a sniveling woman’s voice that she hadn’t heard before.
Willow prepared herself for the coming fight, and took deep, quick breaths, working herself up. She thought of her friends still trapped in the City of the Dead. She thought of all the poor pixies rotting in those dark cells. She thought of all the dippies, people from all over Fallacetine who had been duped by the dastardly Captain Ripps.
With a great explosion of power, Willow slammed the wood above her with her fists. The lid broke into two pieces and flew high into the air. She hurried to untangle her legs from the chains with the help of the torchlight coming from both sides of the wagon.
Someone called out a warning, and the wagon came to an abrupt stop. Willow freed her legs and leapt to her feet, squaring on Danbrig, who sat on the driver’s bench looking back at her, dumbfounded.
“Yaw!” Willow cried as she leapt from the back of the wagon onto the dwarf.
He tried to jump off, but she caught him by the scruff of his back hair and shirt and yanked him backward. He sailed over the destroyed box and onto the dippy wagon.
“We’re going on a hayride,” said one of the dippies, a big-eared dwarf with crooked teeth.
There were two guards on each side of the wagon, watching over the dippies, and one of them, an elf woman covered in tattoos, was leveling a bow at Willow. On the other side, a man had drawn his sword.
Willow grabbed the reins and gave them a quick snap. The horses took off so quickly that she was thrown backwards onto the driver’s bench.
“Heyaw! Heyaw!” she called out, urging the team of four horses on.
An arrow whizzed by her head, and she tried to make herself as small as possible as the wagon bounced and jittered over the uneven and rocky terrain. Dippies were falling off the back and laughing, and those still on the wagon were cheering and clapping the grand adventure.
“It’s a chase!” one cried.
“I always wanted to be in a horse chase!” cried another.
“Move!” yelled Danbrig, pushing a dippy off the wagon as he stalked toward the front.
Willow saw him coming out of the corner of her eye and pulled the reins hard, causing the horses to buck to a stop and everyone in the back to fly forward. Danbrig cried out and was thrown forward through the air, toward the driver’s bench, and right into Willow’s flying fist.
Teeth shot out of his mouth and his nose squished with a crunch as Willow’s fist connected. His body crumpled against her arm, and he dropped like a stone.
An arrow suddenly hit Willow in the shoulder, jerking her back. It glanced off her tough skin, but not without leaving a long line of dark green blood. Willow growled and ground her tusks. The elf archer was on horseback and quickly closing the distance, pulling back another arrow. Willow tore a long wooden plank off the bench and spun as the arrow came in. It hit the wood right next to her face, and the elf stared wide eyed as Willow charged across the wagon. The elf hurried to nock another arrow as Willow leapt, but she was too late. Willow slammed into her, knocking her off the horse and crushing her under seven hundred pounds of green flesh.
The dippies cheered her on as the other three horsemen rushed to surround Willow. But she had gained her freedom, and she wasn’t about to lose it again. She picked up the unconscious elf and tossed her ten feet through the air and into the face of an approaching horseman. Man and horse went down, and Willow leapt onto the wagon full of dippies, screaming and yelling and trying to rile them up as much as possible.
“Go back and tell the captain!” one of the horsemen cried, and Willow saw another turn around and head the other way.
“Oh no you don’t!” she cried out, and meant to go after him, but the other horseman leapt onto the wagon and produced a shimmering sword.
“’Bout time you learn your place, ogre!” he spat, sneering and pushing dippies to the side.
Willow glanced around for a weapon, but the man gave her no time. He came in with a quick thrust meant for her gut. She slapped the blade away, gaining a long cut on her hand, but surprising her assailant. Before he could pull back or maneuver, she lunged forward and barreled into him, overpowering him with her great weight and driving him off the end of the wagon.
“Oof!” His breath exploded from him when Willow landed on top. She then put him to sleep with a head-butt.
“Three cheers for the ogre!” one of the dippies yelled. They were now dancing with the torches and lighting the grass on fire around the wagons.
“You idiots, get out of here!” she yelled and hurried to unhitch the wagons and climb up into the driver’s seat. “Get to the Wide Wall. They have all kinds of treats waiting for you there. Go now. East, east! Go to the Wide Wall.”
The dimwitted dippies began singing her command. Willow turned the wagon around and slapped the reins, urging t
he four-horse team after the lone horseman who had escaped north.
The moon offered ample light now that her eyes were used to the dark, and the horses had no such problems. They left the dippies behind and tore down the wagon road. Willow bounced on the bench and trained her eyes on the northern path. It wound through the tall grass and eventually led to the forest. She had no idea how long she had been out or how far away from the city she was, but she hoped that she could catch the rider before he warned the captain. She could not see him ahead, and wondered if perhaps he had taken a different path.
She rode through the tall grass and into the forest, where the road became quite bumpy. The wagon bounced around precariously, and Willow hoped that the wheels would hold up to the abuse. If she was going to catch the rider, she was going to have to push it hard.
Birds erupted from the trees as she sped through the forest, which dismayed her, because it meant that the rider had not disturbed them recently. She began to doubt that she would catch him, and she considered her options. If the captain was alerted to her escape, she would be at a huge disadvantage.
She thought about just trying to find Kazimir, but the wizard hadn’t been there when she needed him, and he probably wouldn’t come now.
Movement caught her eye ahead, and her heart leapt. The forest path wound out before her, giving her only fleeting glimpses of what lay ahead, but she was sure that she saw a horse and rider sprinting through the night. She spurred the horses on, knowing that it was only a matter of time before she caught up.
The rider put up a good race, but he could not outpace Willow’s team. Seeing her coming, he tried to steer off the road where she could not follow, but the horse was not so keen on the idea, and gave him trouble. Willow pulled in front of the rider and stopped her team and wagon sideways in the road, causing the rider’s horse to buck and throw him off.
Willow leapt off and rushed over to him, planting a thick knee in his back. “Shut up and we’ll get along just fine,” she said in his ear.
Chapter 9
Beyond the Wide Wall: Humorous Fantasy (Epic Fallacy Book 2) Page 6